Nerdy (Unexpected Lovers, #2) - J.B. Heller Page 0,6

It’s the perfect relationship, in my opinion.

I hit send just as Ever climbs onto the couch and snuggles into my side, resting her head on my bicep as she watches her movie. She’ll probably fall asleep, as she usually does after we’ve had a playdate at the park.

She snuggles back into my chest then reaches for my arm to wrap it around her. We snuggle together and watch the wild princess on the screen as she fights for her independence. And for some reason, I think of Emory. It’s probably just the red hair.

I smile and kiss the back of Ever’s head as she begins the slow blink that will inevitably lead to her snoring softly in the next few minutes.

Emory’s question from this morning comes back to me. Would I leave this all behind if my book became a huge success? Never. I would never give this up. Not for anything. Which is exactly why Jayla and I broke up.

She wanted me to pursue a career, to go out and make something of myself. But the thing is, I am exactly where I want to be. My role in Everly and Hazel’s life is more important to me than any career could be.

And screw Jayla for not seeing that.

My head hurts, and my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton wool as I roll to the edge of my bed and slap a hand around on my nightstand. I’m sure I had a bottle of water on there. Peeking one eye open, I squint until I spot my drink. I snatch it up, unscrew the lid, and down half of it.

Why did I drink so much wine last night?

Sighing heavily, I wriggle out of bed and shuffle to my en suite, a hand resting over my angry belly as I go. I swear the best thing about this apartment is the individual bathrooms. My head throbs just thinking about how impossible it would be to share one single bathroom between myself and my two roommates.

After I pee and wash my hands, I stare at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I look like a train wreck. Black bags circle my eyes, my skin is dry and itchy, and my hair looks like a flock of seagulls had an orgy up in there.

Stripping off my clothes, I crank up the hot water in the shower then stand under the spray for a solid ten minutes before soaping my body down. Washing my wild hair takes another ten minutes.

When I eventually exit my room, it’s almost noon, and unsurprisingly, it looks like I’m home alone.

Kins has been spending all her spare time with Atticus, which is super freaking cute, and I really can’t blame her. The dude is H.O.T. Hot. And Lenny’s probably at some sporting brunch or something with one of her clients.

I make myself a cup of coffee and toast a bagel. I slather it with garlic butter and cream cheese then kick back on the couch and begin to surf Netflix. I’m flicking through the latest additions when my phone chimes with a text.

A smile curves my lips when I see Sebastian’s name on the screen. But my smile quickly falls when I begin to read the message.

SEBASTIAN: Umm, so I’ve been trying to think of a way to answer last night’s barrage of questions, but I’m pretty sure it would be inappropriate for me to do so. Also, I’m not sure what the size of my dick has to do with you writing an article about my book? But in saying that, I feel I need to answer at least some of them. So, yes, I am very good at sex, and yes, I am straight.

What the actual shit…?

My thumb scrolls through our chat, and my heart lodges in my throat when I see the questions he’s referring to.

I drunk-texted him.

A lot.

Sweet baby Jesus in the manger, why didn’t you save me from myself?

ME: You write some pretty intense sex scenes in your book. Did your own sex life inspire them? Like that one scene in the lighthouse? ’Cause holy shit, it’s hot.

ME: I can’t help but wonder what it’s like for a straight man to write about another man’s penis thrusting into a wet vagina. So, I’m thinking you must be describing your own penis when writing these scenes, right?

ME: There I go assuming again… are you even straight? If not, that brings up a whole lot of new questions.

ME: You must be