What Lovers Do(39)

We load everything into my car and stop at the driver’s door. Shep’s hands find mine, our fingers lacing as he pulls me into his chest. I don’t do this with Jules.

“So much for our conversing … our exclusive tele-dating, although, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to return to it,” I say.

“Pfft. We can’t tele-date now. We’re friends. Best friends.” He wears that mischievous expression like it was custom made for him.

“You should date,” I blurt. It takes me a second to realize what I just said. I’m scared to death of this friendship. It would make things a lot easier if I knew Shep were actively dating. Not imagining anything more. Accepting what happened this weekend won’t happen again. It was my pre-baby-belly last hurrah.

He narrows his eyes.

“As your friend, I’m telling you that you should date. I can give you dating advice as any good friend would do.”

I can’t. My dating life has been nothing short of a catastrophe. But saying it to Shep feels like the right thing to do. And for a second, it makes me feel normal. Just a woman—a friend—helping another friend. A woman with a good job. A woman living with her dog. A woman not housing a squatter.

Informal settler.

Shep kisses my cheek, pausing for a long moment before sliding his lips to mine and giving me a soft peck. “Don’t worry, Sophie. I’m not going to sit around home drawing your name on notebooks and stalking you on social media. No trees will be defaced because I carved our names into them. I’m a grown-ass man capable of having sex without postcoital heavy spooning.”

“Good. That would be pathetic.” I release his hands and open my door.

“I have Julia and George this week. Let’s meet at the park.”

I smile, dropping into the driver’s seat. “Sounds perfect.”

And just like that … we’ve figured it out.

No room for neediness or falling in love. Shep World can continue a little longer. It’s innocent. And nobody has to know.

Just two grown adults exploring all the ways we can be friends. What could go wrong?





Jimmy.

That’s what or who could go wrong. He manages to stay out of my sight for the remainder of Sunday, and I don’t see him Monday until I arrive home from work.

“What the hell …” I park on the street because my driveway is in the process of being torn up. Grabbing my bags and letting Cersei out of the car, I march through my yard, scowling at the men destroying my property and fueled by a special kind of rabid anger funneling into my veins.

“What the—” I start to unleash on Jimmy, but he holds up his hand, perched at his new desk, new computer in front of him, headset with a mic attached to his stubborn, dumb head.

I’m so angry I can’t relax my hands to drop my bags. My legs root into the floor, and everything inside of me shakes as I wait for him to finish his sales call.

In my house.

With a desk he purchased with my money.

And my computer.

Fucker!

“Hey, babe. Missed you. Do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Jimmy slips off his headset and stands.

“I want you out of my house! What the hell is happening to my driveway?”

“Okay. Looks like we’ll start with the bad news.” He saunters toward me, slipping his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Grammy died Friday. I was going to call you, but I didn’t want to ruin your weekend. That’s the bad news. The good news is that I will be getting some inheritance money. Mom floated me a loan so we could put in a new driveway like we’ve talked about for months. No more huge cracks and uneven parts. I think we’ll have enough for a basketball hoop too.”

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

“Jimmy …” I ease my head side to side. “You … you need help. Serious help. You are delusional. Something is truly wrong with you. I gave you a five-day notice to vacate. You have one day left. Then I’m filing eviction papers. This ends with you being escorted from the premises by a sheriff. Is that what you want?”

“I’m paying for the driveway, Sophie. That’s a big investment. It’s equity in this house.”

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh. My. God!

He’s digging his heels in. He’s doubling down. He’s going to drag this out. Court. Attorneys. I don’t have time for this. I’m pregnant!

“I’m …” I open my mouth to say just that but clamp it shut just as quickly. No. Jimmy Fucking Pain In My Ass doesn’t get to hear about this baby before my parents. Before Mason’s parents.

“Hey, Cersei.” Jimmy bends down and rubs Cersei’s chest. She likes him. I hate that. But he feeds her junk food and rubs her belly all damn day because he has no life. He’s a parasite in my life. Is he going to attempt to take her too? Will we be like Shep and Millie? Sharing custody of a dog?

How can that happen if he NEVER MOVES OUT?

I’m fuming to the point I can’t even speak. I need to go to my room and calm down for the baby.

Jimmy: One.

Sophie: Zero.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN





“How was your weekend?” Nora asks, stopping at the door to my office. She was out on Monday.