Penthouse Prince(12)
But I don’t.
Instead, when I let out that breath I’ve been holding, what comes out is, “Text me your address.”
He arches one thick, dark brow in my direction. “Same number as high school?”
“Same number,” I say with a nod, immediately realizing my mistake. If I still have the same number, then . . .
“Then why didn’t you reply to my voice mail?” He finishes my thought out loud, the tiniest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
“I was busy,” I say quickly, my voice wavering ever so slightly.
Lexington’s eyes narrow with skepticism. He’s always possessed the unique ability to know when I’m lying, even when no one else can tell. It looks like that skill hasn’t worn off in the last ten years.
Luckily, I’m not lying about my plans with Sarah Jo this afternoon. We have a twelve thirty brunch reservation, and I definitely need to go home and shower first.
Checking my smartwatch, I wince at the time. “I really have to get going. I’ve got a reservation to make.”
He nods. “Well, it was good to see you.”
“Good to, um, yeah,” I stammer. But by the look in his eyes, I’m guessing he can see right through that lie too.
After a short drive consisting of me screaming into the silence in my car, and questioning if the last ten minutes of my life were some weird dream, I’m back home.
Not for long, though. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I’m back in the car in under half an hour, firing off a text to Sarah Jo before I hit the gas.
On my way now. I hope you’re ready for some crazy news.
My phone buzzes with her reply almost immediately. No words, just about a million exclamation points. God, I love this girl.
We arrive at the restaurant at about the same time, sharing a quick hug in front of the hostess stand before we’re taken to a table near the back. Thank goodness we snagged a reservation in advance. There isn’t an empty table in this place.
Normally, I’d be bothered by all the noise of a crowded restaurant, but not today. Whatever it takes to drown out the enormous gasp Sarah Jo is going to let out when I drop this bomb on her.
The second we sit down, my best friend props her elbows on the table, leaning into full-on gossip mode. “Okay, spill. What’s the big news?”
I fill her in on the details of my run-in this morning, including the fact that Lexington Dane is, much to my dismay, even better looking than he was in high school. And to add insult to injury, my pit stains were half the size of the state of Texas when he saw me.
“Worst timing ever.” She groans, her voice brimming with sympathy. “I think you deserve extra pancakes for having to deal with that.”
Before she can bury her nose too far in the menu, I hit her with the coup de grace, the information that takes this whole Lexington thing from weird to wild.
“There’s one more tiny thing,” I say, pinching my fingers together to form an itty-bitty space I can barely see through. “Well, not that tiny. But small enough to still fit in a crib, if you get my gist.”
Sarah Jo drops her menu, her brows knitting together. “What do you . . .” Before she can finish the thought, it finally clicks, and her whole face goes totally slack. “No freaking way. Are you telling me he has a kid?”
I nod. “A daughter. But there’s no ring on his finger. So I think he’s a single dad.”
Sarah Jo’s jaw drops as she leans back in her seat, pressing her fingers into her temples. “This is actually too much for me to handle.”
“Imagine finding out the way I did. As if running into him in public wasn’t enough, the guy was pushing her in a stroller. Talk about a one-two punch.” I actually thought my heart was going to stop for a minute there.
“So, what’s the plan?” She cracks her knuckles, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “Do we egg his house? Or maybe we play the long game and wait till his daughter is in your class? Then you can just, like, teach her the alphabet backward or something.”
I shake my head. “You’re not going to believe this, but he actually asked me to come over tomorrow.”
Sarah Jo’s jaw drops. “Like, to his house? You’re not even meeting up in public?”
I shrug. “He brought up his new espresso machine. How am I supposed to resist that?” I joke, hoping I don’t sound as crazy as I feel right now. My emotions are all over the place.
Sarah Jo just shakes her head at me.
When the waitress swings by moments later, and we both place our orders for short stacks of pancakes and tall cups of coffee. Once our server disappears, though, Sarah Jo leans in even closer, squinting her eyes like she’s trying to get a read on me.
“Be honest. You’re going so you can secretly put laxatives in his coffee, though, right?”
I shake my head. “Not quite. I think I’m just going to hear him out. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get an apology.”
Sarah Jo frowns at me, unamused. “It’s ten years too late for that.”
“Believe me, I know.” I sigh, picking nervously at the corner of a paper napkin. “I have zero intentions of getting involved with this man ever again. But I never got any explanation when he totally disappeared from my life. No closure whatsoever. Maybe this is what I need so I can let go of all this stupid anger and resentment and move on.”