Love Me Like You Do (Love Me, I'm Famous Book 6)

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Love Me Like You Do (Love Me, I'm Famous Book 6) Page 10

by M. H. Soars


  “You can’t think like that.” Holding onto her forearms, I push Liv back so I can look into her eyes. “I’m heartbroken that we lost our baby, but you’re the most important thing in the world to me. If having a baby is not in the cards for us, I’ll accept that because I have everything I need right here in front of me.”

  Liv’s eyes fill with tears and her lips tremble. “But I want to give you a family. I want you to have that again.”

  “We are a family already. You, me, and that ugly-ass dog.” I laugh. “We don’t need to keep trying to get pregnant right away. We can wait a few more years.”

  “I don’t want to wait, Bas.”

  “Okay, then we don’t, but I don’t want to see you down, or worried about this. Let’s put it in the hands of fate.” I kiss her cheek, then her nose, before claiming her mouth. I taste the saltiness of tears on her lips, but I’m relieved when Liv throws her hands around my neck and surrenders to my caress.

  Our bodies take control, and soon our clothes disappear and we’re tumbling onto the bed. I trail a path of kisses on her collarbone, hooking my hand behind her knee to place her leg over my shoulder. I’m more than ready to plunge all the way into her hot sheath, but I control myself, not wanting to hurt her just in case she’s still sore. I tease her entrance with the head of my cock until she squirms under me, trying to impale herself on me.

  “Bas, why do like to torture me so?”

  “I want to take it easy, babe.” I slide just an inch in, hissing as I do because she feels so damn good.

  “I’m okay, Bas.”

  I pull my cock out before thrusting forward a little deeper this time. My lips find hers again, and I repeat the movement repeatedly until I fill her completely. It’s a little hard to keep the pace slow now, and Liv’s soft moans are not helping me maintain self-control one bit. When her internal walls clench around me, I know she’s getting close, so I increase my pace.

  We come almost at the same time, our labored breathing and accelerated hearts in sync. A shiver runs down my spine as I ride the final waves of my release. Then I roll off her and pull her close to my side, kissing the top of her head.

  “Thank you for not letting go of me,” she says.

  “You never gave up on me, Liv. I’m here for the long haul, for the good and the bad. Letting you go when we were young is the biggest regret of my life. I’ll never do it again. I swear.”

  Twenty-Four

  LIV

  TWO MONTHS LATER

  My cheeks are hot, and pride fills my chest as I read the lengthy e-mail Mayara Reinhardt sent to the entire company congratulating everyone involved in the global accessibility campaign. My name was the first she mentioned, and the praise almost feels like it’s too much. I’m still getting used to being recognized for my work. This project was one of the hardest things I’ve done; multiple team members around the world were involved, which meant crazy-long working hours.

  Many people jumped on the bandwagon and replied to Mayara’s e-mail, saying how wonderful it was to work with me. I don’t even know the proper response to things like this. Do nothing? Reply saying thank you? Ugh.

  Cynthia sends me a private chat message saying I’m slaying it. I take the opportunity to ask her about the proper conduct, and she tells me to say nothing and just bask in the glory.

  I receive a text from Saylor next, saying she seems to be finally over the pregnancy sickness that plagued her for the last two months and she’s craving a burger. I smile and reply, Hallelujah.

  My friend’s pregnancy doesn’t hurt as much as it did in the beginning, but it’s still a sore reminder of what could have been. With time, the sharp pain has turned into a dull ache. Sebastian and I have been trying to get pregnant again, a fact we decided not to disclose to anyone else. For all intents and purposes, we’re taking a year break. This was Sebastian’s idea; he didn’t want any outside pressure on us. Still, after two months and nothing, I’m beginning to worry, so I’m going back to Dr. Zimmerman without telling him. I just want to be sure there’s nothing wrong with me.

  My phone rings, bringing me back to here and now. It’s Saylor.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hello, chica. Sorry to bother you at work but I wasn’t in the mood to type. Are you busy tonight?”

  “Not really. I was planning to vegging out in front of the TV. Why?”

  “Do you feel like coming over for dinner? I know it’s last minute, but I don’t know when I can find another date where everyone is available.”

  “Who is everyone?”

  “You, Bas, Mandy, and Harry.”

  “Not Emma and Kennedy?” I don’t even know what they’re up to these days. I’ve been so out of touch with everyone.

  “Uh, no. So, can you come?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’m curious about Oliver’s brother. I think I only spoke to him once at your welcome home party. How is he doing, by the way?”

  “Surprisingly well for someone who’s been through hell. He’s amazing. I’m really happy he’s staying with us. The stupid stairs were a problem, but Oliver had one of those stair lifts installed.”

  “Well, I can’t wait to get to know him better. Yes, count us in.”

  “So, Saylor didn’t say anything about what this dinner is about, huh?” Sebastian asks as we head to our friend’s place.

  “Nope. Maybe it’s just a get-together.”

  “Saylor is starting to show, and pretty soon she’ll be huge. Oliver and Allan want to wait a few more months to announce she’s expecting twins.”

  “Yeah, she did say that. What do you think of Harry?”

  “He’s nice. It’s hard to get a read on him though because he jokes all the time. I think he might be going overboard for Oliver’s benefit.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, the Jenkins did take him away from his family, even if they didn’t stick him in a basement like Simon did. Can you imagine what that’s doing to Oliver’s head?”

  I nod, but I don’t comment. We’re all battling our own demons, aren’t we?

  Saylor greets us at the door, wearing a snug red dress that shows off her small bump. I stomp on the spike of envy that threatens to sour my mood. I’m better than this. I hug her tight, saying how beautiful she looks. She beams at me before placing both hands on her belly and glancing down.

  “I’m afraid of what I’ll look like in a few more months.”

  “Still gorgeous.”

  Mandy is already there, chatting with Harry. They’re both laughing when we step outside. Harry glances in our direction with a twinkle in his eyes. I’m glad to see he no longer has the gaunt look; his chest and arms have filled a bit, and the sharp edges on his face are gone. You can’t deny the resemblance to Oliver. Shit, there’s another good-looking guy to break hearts.

  “The other guests of honor have arrived.” Harry wheels his chair in my direction.

  He stops in front of me, grabs my hand, and kisses the back of it. “Liv, looking as dashingly beautiful as I remember.”

  “Hello, Harry. You’re looking good yourself.”

  “I know, right? What sunshine and pumping iron can do to a person. Check out these guns.”

  He flexes his arms, showing off his biceps.

  “Impressive.”

  “I swear to God, you’re worse than Oliver ever was. Vanity must definitely run in the family.” Saylor walks around us to hug Oliver from behind.

  He looks over his shoulder, giving her a crooked grin. “Our last name is not Best without reason. Although I’m better at the cockiness. I was never that ridiculous.”

  “Oh, I’m not so sure. Remember that time when—”

  Oliver turns around and covers Saylor’s mouth with his hand before she can spill the beans. “Shh, woman. Whose side are you on?”

  Saylor pulls Oliver’s hand from her face to reveal a smirk. “I’m just keeping it real, babe.”

  “I’ll show you keeping it real.” He pushes her against the wall, claiming
her mouth passionately as if they are the only people in the room.

  Harry makes gagging sounds while Mandy’s face turns bright red. She looks away, staring at the pool instead.

  “Did you decide to throw a dinner party to show us how you got your wife knocked up, brother of mine? I think we know how things work.”

  Oliver kisses Saylor a while longer before pulling back. “What did you say, Harry?”

  Sebastian leans closer to me and whispers in my ear, “They did the same thing to me while I was visiting Ollie at the hospital. They gave the nurse quite a show.”

  I laugh and shake my head.

  We take our seats around the table, and a moment later, Oliver and Saylor bring snacks and champagne glasses when they join us. Sebastian picks up his glass and raises an eyebrow at Oliver. “What’s with the flutes? I don’t recall you enjoying this so much.”

  Oliver glances at Saylor and winks. “Well, we’re celebrating tonight. At least, I hope we are.”

  “Watch Oliver announce Saylor is actually a triple-decker,” Harry says.

  “Don’t even joke about that.” Saylor throws a glare in his direction.

  “No, but I’ll try harder next time.” Oliver chuckles, earning a swat on the arm from his wife.

  “So, what are we celebrating?” Sebastian asks.

  “We wanted to ask you guys to be the godparents of our babies.” Saylor’s smile is small as she takes in the reactions all around the table.

  I’m totally caught by surprise. I know Saylor isn’t religious, and I could go out on a limb here and say Oliver isn’t either.

  “That’s such an honor,” Mandy says. “But I’m a little surprised by the request. You don’t believe in organized religion, Blue.”

  “That’s true, but I know Adeline would have appreciated it, and we want to honor that.”

  “I’m so totally in. I can’t wait to give hell to the priest teaching the prep classes.” Harry rubs his hands together.

  “Wait, we gotta take classes?” Sebastian looks truly surprised.

  I shake my head and ignore his outburst. “You know what my answer is, Blue.”

  “And so it begins,” Harry says enigmatically.

  “What does?” Mandy peers at him.

  “The games for the best godparents award. May the odds be ever in your favor.” He laughs. “Good luck, though. Mandy and I got it in the bank.”

  Harry raises his hand for a high five, and to my surprise, Mandy goes for it.

  Oliver throws his arm over Saylor’s shoulder and tucks her in tight. “Oh, this is going to be bloody epic.”

  Twenty-Five

  LIV

  My heart is stuck in my throat as I wait for Dr. Zimmerman to come in. I’m wriggling my fingers together and my legs won’t stop shaking. I hate waiting at a doctor’s office, but today is much worse. The door finally opens and Dr. Zimmerman comes in carrying a white folder which I can only guess contains the results of the exams she requested.

  “So, Doc, what do they say?” I ask as soon as she sits down.

  Resting her elbows on the desk, she links her fingers together and leans forward. “As I told you when you came here last week, your worries about infertility were premature. It’s only after a year of unprotected sex without conception that we should look for problems. Your results came back all normal.”

  “They did?” I sink into my chair as a wave of relief whooshes through my body.

  “Yes.”

  “So why am I not getting pregnant? It happened right away when Bas and I tried the first time.”

  “Many factors can contribute to that. I think in your case it’s stressing over it that’s causing the problem, so my suggestion is to relax and focus on other things.”

  “It’s hard to focus on other things when my best friend is pregnant.”

  “I understand. Maybe go on another vacation. There’s no statistical proof, but it seems to me that couples have a higher chance of conceiving when they’re out of their regular environment.”

  I bite my lower lip and glance down at my hands. Taking time off work will be hard for us. We both are so busy right now.

  “I’ll try to relax. Thanks, Doc.”

  On the ride back to the office, I get a call from the head of communications and PR. I’m helping her with Reinhardt’s Fourth of July charity event. She asks if I can meet her at the Clarissa Reinhardt Center, a place dedicated to children with special needs. Every Fourth of July, Reinhardt throws a big party to raise money for the foundation. The center was named after Mayara’s sister who had Down syndrome.

  It’s my first time at the center and I’m impressed with the facility. It looks like a luxurious gym, but with all the colors and decoration aimed at making this a fun place for children. Right at the entrance, there’s a huge light panel wall where kids can play different games by pressing on the lights that pop up. Right behind the reception desk is a sculpture of a multicolored teddy bear.

  My coworker Theresa is waiting for me at the front and before we get down to business, she gives me a quick tour of the place. She points at the artwork on the walls, explaining that they were donations from Romero Britto, a famous Brazilian artist. Theresa stops to admire one of the paintings when I notice a ball rolling down the corridor in our direction. I bend over to pick it up right before a small boy comes running in our direction. He can’t be older than four. The thick glasses he wears cover half his face, and up close I notice they’re being held together by tape in the middle.

  “Hey, buddy. Is this yours?” I offer him the ball.

  He nods shyly before taking the toy from me.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “Sebastian.”

  “Really? That’s the name of my husband. It’s such a pretty name.”

  “Are you going to be my new mommy?”

  His question takes me by surprise and I don’t know what to say. Mercifully, one of the center’s volunteers comes running for the boy.

  “Sebastian, there you are. You’re scared me.”

  “Sorry, Miss Goldberg.”

  The volunteer holds the boy’s hand and takes him back to the playroom he escaped from.

  “Why did he ask if I was going to be his new mommy?” I ask Theresa.

  “Oh, I believe he’s in the system. It’s so much harder to find placement for children with special needs.”

  “You mean he’s in the foster care program?”

  “Yes. He’s such a sweet boy. I wish people would look past the Down syndrome.”

  “So where does he live now?”

  “I’m not sure. Foster care is supposed to provide a safe haven for abused and neglected children. Unfortunately, too many of them experience further harm. At least here in the center, those kids get to enjoy some happy moments.”

  I keep staring in the direction the volunteer disappeared with the little boy. My heart is heavy and sad for him. “Will he be here for the Fourth of July celebration?”

  “I don’t know. You can check with the receptionist, though. Shall we continue?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight, Liv. Did something happen at work?” Sebastian asks me during dinner.

  I glance up from my untouched plate of food. “No. Work was fine.”

  “Then how come you didn’t eat a single bite of your dinner?”

  I set the fork down and pick up the glass of wine instead. After I take a sip, I say, “I visited the Clarissa Reinhardt Center today and I met someone.”

  “Oh? Who? Should I be jealous?” He smiles in a cheeky way and I can’t help but reciprocate.

  “Maybe.”

  He leans back, frowning now with arms crossed in front of his chest. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “His name was also Sebastian.”

  “And how old was this new Sebastian?”

  “I don’t know. Four, maybe. He was so cute, Bas, with his spiked blond hair and nerdy, broken glasses.”


  “He sure made an impression on you.”

  “He asked me if I was going to be his new mommy.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Theresa said he’s in the foster care system and kids like him with special needs have a much harder time finding a home.”

  Sebastian keeps staring at me for a moment without saying a word. “I don’t know if I told you before, but Rebel and Riot were in the system.”

  “No, you didn’t tell me that.”

  “Maybe because their story is a little sad. They were separated when they were little, and only got reunited in their preteens when they were adopted by the same couple.”

  “Well, at least they got a happy ending.”

  “Yes, but not every child is so lucky.”

  I sigh and look down. “I know. When I got back to the office, I did some research. The system is good in principle but so flawed. Some children bounce from foster home to foster home or are placed inappropriately in institutional settings. And children with disabilities are at even greater risk for negative experiences in foster care.”

  “Since I learned about Rebel and Riot, I’ve been thinking a lot about that. Would it be crazy if we became foster parents?”

  I blink without saying a word because since meeting little Sebastian, that’s all I’ve been thinking about. “Do you think we could do it?”

  “Yes, I think we could.”

  “Why didn’t you talk to me about it before?”

  Sebastian runs a hand through his hair. “I was afraid you would take my idea the wrong way.”

  I can see now why he would think that way. “I’m glad you brought it up now. This is a big decision to make on a whim, but we could learn more about the process.”

  Sebastian’s face breaks into an ear-to-ear smile, his love for me shining brightly in his eyes. “Yes, we could.”

  “I would love for you to meet little Sebastian. He’s going to be at the Fourth of July party.”

 

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