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Sloane: Does it have to do with your murder plot? Winter: Yes. I’m making you my accessory. Sloane: New friendship level unlocked! I’ll be out front in five.
Because no matter how unplanned this is, I can’t help but see it as a blessing. Something turning up Winter after getting shoved down so many times.
“I think she’s okay. Happy but overwhelmed, if that makes sense?” “That makes perfect sense. If I wrote a dictionary, that might be the definition I put under motherhood.”
“Watch your fucking tone when you’re talking to the mother of my child.”
“What’s happening is Miss Independent met the treat-her-like-a-princess guy, and she’s freaking out.”
“You do know you’re in love with that girl, don’t you?” I flop down beside her and sling an arm over her shoulder, ready to get lost in the very best medical drama while sitting beside one of my favorite women in the world. “Yeah, Mom. I know.”
“I think I more than like you.” “Because I’m your baby daddy?” “No.” I meet his eyes at the final red light before we pull up to the house. “Because you make me like myself . . . and you’re the only one who ever has.” I glance away, because staring at him feels like too much. Too heavy.
