Reaching under the table, I wrap my hand around her thigh, hoping to distract her. Her skin is smooth and warm, and the little gasp she makes reminds me of the noise she made when I slid inside of her. I’ve thought about that night a lot—the sounds she made, the way she felt wrapped around me, and how everything happened so fucking fast. The instant it was over, I regretted taking her like I did and hated that I couldn’t say no when I should have. Then I regretted not taking my time with her, enjoying the moment, stretching it out as long as I could. I also think about how I ran like a fucking coward because the first thought in my head after I fucked her was once would never be enough.

Covering my hand with hers, she presses her fingers into my skin, and she looks over at me with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Okay?” I mouth, and when she nods, I slide my hand off her thigh.

As lunch carries on, she doesn’t eat any of the food placed in front of her; all she does is move stuff around on her plate to make it look like she did. I want to ask her if she’s been eating and keeping any food down, but now is not the time to do that, and honestly, I don’t know if it’s my place to ask her at all.

I’m walking a very thin line, trying to be supportive while keeping myself distant. It’s difficult, and I have a feeling it’s just going to become harder the more time that passes. And it will likely become impossible when I can confirm that she is pregnant with my child—something I already believe, even with the knowledge that it should not be possible.

Maybe I would feel differently if I thought she had something to gain from naming me as the dad. But I don’t have money—not much of it, anyway—and I’m a fucking nobody, especially when you look at her social circle and who her father is. She’s surrounded by men who could provide more for her baby than I would ever be able to. So, if she were looking for financial security, she wouldn’t have to look very far. And I have no doubt that most of the men she comes in contact with would tie themselves in knots in order to give her whatever she wanted if she were willing to give them a chance.

Including her ex-husband, who made it clear the night we met that he wants her back.

When the auction finally comes to an end, and people start to leave the room. Barrett looks between Franny and I as we get up from our table. “What are you doing the rest of the day?”