Dance Around - Susi Hawke Page 0,25

it."

6

Gil

A week later…

I threw my pants at Edgar and reached for another choice. It was the third pair of skinny jeans in a row which refused to fasten. When I glanced up and found him watching me in the mirror, I glared and stuck my tongue out.

"What? So I've been eating my feelings lately, sue me. You didn't have to come along on my little shopping spree here, by the way. If I wanted to look at your face, I could've been miserable at home."

I was acting ugly, but I was so mad. And had been for the past week. Mostly at myself. Both for the fuckfest and the argument the morning after. And for once again being unable to communicate with my frustrating man.

"The first step in communication is listening. Ignore the way he said it and consider the thought process behind his words. I keep telling you, Dan is a decent person. And despite his inability to have a civil conversation with you, he's actually quite intelligent. We've had our share of interesting chats during our joint travels."

Gaping at Edgar in the mirror, I needed a few seconds to remember to close my mouth. "Shit. I spoke my thoughts out loud again, didn't I? Hence why you think I finally opened the door to discussing what went down at the secret Hilton."

My brother looked so smug I wanted to kick his teeth in. Lifting a brow, he sat forward on the guest chair to fold the jeans I'd thrown his way. "Subconsciously, you wanted to open the door to this long overdue heart-to-heart. Admit it, if only to yourself. You really want to accept Dan as your mate, don't you?"

Picking another pair of jeans off the stack we'd brought into the dressing room, I wiggled into them, trying not to answer. When I went to fasten them, a good two inches separated the button from closing. I huffed and reminded myself not to cry over clothing. I took a deep breath and shoved them down, mercilessly kicking the fuckers toward Edgar while I reached for the next pair.

One way or the other, I was going to find good-fitting pants today.

Once I realized Edgar was patiently waiting for a response, I huffed all over again. "I don't know. Maybe? Love is hard."

Edgar quickly folded the pants I'd kicked over before setting them aside. Talking to me in the mirror, he walked up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You need to figure it out, Gilligan. Quickly, in fact. Unless you plan to raise your family alone and hope he doesn't find out about it, you're going to need to talk to Dan sooner rather than later."

The fuck? It took me a second to realize what he was insinuating, and I hit him in the gut with both elbows, rapidly shaking my head. "No. Not even—there's no way you're right. I'm not fucking preggo. I would know."

As if asking me to give him a moment, he held up a finger while he bent over and sucked in a few deep breaths. I smirked and felt a little better, not even caring when I tried and failed to fasten the latest pair. I went through another two options before Edgar was ready to talk.

"God you're a dick when you're hormonal. Fuck, you actually hurt me, Gilligan." I narrowed my eyes at the use of my given name but decided to allow it since I'd knocked the wind out of him for once.

"Quit saying ridiculous shit. So I'm having a bad day in the fitting room, and I also happen to be in a shitty mood. Doesn't mean I'm pregnant."

Edgar looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head as if asking the Almighty for help. "Bad day in the fitting room? The current stack of pants you've been trying on is a size larger than you've worn for pretty much your entire adult life. The ass and legs have all seemed to fit perfectly fine. Funny how your little bit of belly bloat—if that's what you're calling it—is going to make you buy pants two sizes too big."

I gasped in horror. "Buy pants two sizes too big? I'll do no such thing."

"Good. The smartest thing I've heard you say in ages. You'd only be wasting your money because we both know how fast our pregnancies go—you'd be back here two days from now. What you need are those pants in the omega section with the elastic front panel. Those