Page 55 of Sleeper: The Palisades Edition

“No.” If we show up together, everyone will knowthat my nanny and I have been fucking. “I’ll go. This is my fault.” I rake my fingers through my hair. So much for heaven.

“They’ll be fine, Shane. They just need to rest. It’s not like you gave them food poisoning.”

“Thanks,” I say, brushing past her, out of the room. “I’ll be sure to remind people of that when I’m accepting my Father of the Year award.”

I check my text messages while I head to the bathroom to clean myself up.

MARGO: Why am I getting texts from Riley’s mom about the twins being sick and needing to be picked up in Woodland Hills? What is going on?

MARGO: Shane. They’re calling me to set. Willa won’t answer me either. What is going on???

I textMargo to tell her the twins were just sick from jumping after eating too much. And that I was stuck in traffic running errands but I’m on my way to pick up the twins. It’s the first time I’ve ever lied to her like that. I’m a shit.

“I’ll have peppermint tea waiting for them when you get home. Do you have any?”

“I have no idea,” I say, looking for my wallet and keys. “See you in a bit.”

I’m already backing out of the garage by the time it occurs to me that I should have kissed Willa good-bye. Something. So she knows I’m not mad at her foranything. That what just happened between us meant everything to me. But I already feel bad for making the kids wait so long to be picked up. And deep down I feel guilty that what happened between me and Willa meant everything. Because she isn’t everything to me. She can’t be.

I lost my head.

I may already be losing my heart to her, but I can’t afford to lose my head.

SIXTEEN

WILLA

Well. It was not the first time a man had left my bed in a hurry before, but itwasthe first time a man had rushed off to pick up his kids after plowing me and joking about making me sandwiches before doing butt stuff.

Can’t fault a guy for being such a devoted dad.

Can’t blame him for forgetting to kiss me good-bye.

Can’t feel bad about the fact that we didn’t discuss what it means now that we’ve shagged and I have no idea if he regrets it or blames me somehow for distracting him.

Yeah, baby.

Yeah.

I’m clutching on to my heart pendant, something I haven’t done in days, when my phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s not Shane. A photo of my Grammie’s beautiful, elfin face is on the screen, and I answer the call immediately, my heart suddenly racing because she usually only texts or e-mails.

“Grammie? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I was just checking to see if your phone is working.”

“Yeah. I mean, I think so.”

“Oh good. I thought maybe you didn’t get any cell phone reception at Shane Miller’s house or something.”

Oh. It’s that kind of call.“Shit. Sorry. I haven’t called you since I came here. I’ve been so busy. I’m an asshole.”

“Well, you said it, love, not me. I did appreciate the video of Nico. Glad to see he’s still a cocky little stud muffin.”

“Yeah, no worries there.”