One Baby Daddy (Dating by Numbers #3)(97)

“Fine, Emma Stone.”

I shrug my one shoulder. “Eh, she’s beautiful, but she didn’t give me the feelings like Rachel McAdams did when she was teamed up with Ryan in The Notebook.”

“You’re absurd. Emma and Ryan by far have more chemistry.”

Turning toward her, I point to my chest. “I’m absurd? You’re the one saying Emma and Ryan had more chemistry in La La Land, than Ryan and Rachel in The Notebook. Take a poll right now. Twenty bucks says Rachel and Ryan win. Go ahead ask the people around us.”

Taking in the couples around us, she turtles in on herself and shakes her head.

“Aha, because you know I’m right.”

“No.” She swats at me. “It’s because I don’t want to disrupt their evenings with your childish ways.”

“Ahh, I’m childish now, huh?” I wrap my arms around her and bring her back to my chest, my hands linking in front of her belly.

For a brief moment, I pause, trying to memorize this moment. The way she smells, sweet and fresh. The way her hair brushes against my clean-shaven face, soft and airy. The way her body fits against mine, petite and curvy. The way my heart is so goddamn full at this very moment.

“Are you cold?” I whisper into her ear.

She shakes her head and sighs, looking toward the cityscape. “How many movie stars do you think are driving around the streets right now?”

My lips curve up. “At least fifty.”

“Got to be at least fifty. There are so many movie stars, and they’re always going places.”

“Yup, always going places.” I chuckle. “Can’t stop those movie stars.”

“Real busy bees. Do you think we’ll ever run into one living here?”

Bending my head, I pull her in a little closer so her cheek is almost caressing mine, just a few inches shy. “I sure as hell hope so because then what was this move all about? The whole point of us relocating here was to run into a movie star. What a letdown that would be if we never once bump into Jake Gyllenhaal at Taco Bell.”

“Blasphemy, that’s what that would be.” She takes a second to think and then says, “Is that who you want to bump into? Jake? Because I don’t recall you being a super fan.”

“For some weird reason, it was the first name that came to mind. But now that you asked, who do I want to bump into? Hmm.” I take a moment to really think about my choices. So many celebrities, so many opportunities. “I guess if I had to choose one, I would say Mark Hamill.”

“Mark Hamill as in . . . Luke Skywalker?”

“The one and only.” I kiss the top of her head and squeeze her tighter. “What a freaking dream that would be.”

“Huh, I kind of thought you would pick a girl.”

“Why, when I have all the girl I need in my arms right now?”

The minute she stiffens in my embrace, I know my words are unexpected, maybe a little too soon. Fuck though, I feel like I can’t hold back any longer.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask, not wanting to have this conversation with random people milling about us.

“Uh, yeah. It’s getting late.”

The door clicks shut behind me as I lock up, while Adalyn walks into the living room, her hand playing in her hair.

The car ride wasn’t silent like I thought it would be. Instead, we talked about the celebrity she would want to run into—Scott Eastwood, because The Longest Ride “did her in”—and what she would do if she ever did run into him. Her response was cute, which was most likely cry like a banshee while trying to talk to him at the same time. She’s confident that Scott, or Scotty as she likes to call him, would be very understanding and cool about her “fangirl” moment.

We felt normal. We felt like the old us, but now that we’re home, I know I’m about to throw a wrench into our normal.

Taking a deep breath, hands on my hips, I ask, “Can we talk for a second before you go to bed?”

She’s in the midst of taking her shoes off when she nods, not knowing what’s coming her way. “Of course, what’s up? Are you moving out already?” She playfully pouts, and I can’t help but think, possibly, if this doesn’t go my way. There is no way I can continue to live with her if there is no future with her. That would be like dangling a glass of bourbon in front of an alcoholic. I know this because that’s what it has felt like for the last few weeks. Being friends with Addie is easy because I love her so fucking much. But it’s also brutal because I want more. Surely it’s our time.

Nerves ratcheting up my spine, my voice feeling tight and shaky, I try to ease my body, telling myself this is Adalyn. I’ve known her for a long time, we’ve shared an amazing night together, there is no reason to be nervous, even if she moved out to California to be closer to the man she has a baby with.

That’s nothing to worry about . . .

“Not moving out.” I take a seat on the couch and pat the cushion next to me. “Take a seat.”

Trepidation in her every move, she slowly lowers herself. “Okay, you’re starting to make me nervous. Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I say quickly, taking her hands in mine. “Everything is fine, I’m just . . . fuck, I’m nervous, Addie.”

“Nervous? Why? Are you sick?”