I swear to God on my parents' graves that I had no plans for a hookup when I left the house.
Zero. Nada. None.
I assumed I'd get buzzed on a few drinks, look at the stars above Hollywood from the hillside party house, look at the actual movie stars dancing inside, then go back to my post-divorce celibacy.
Alcohol and common sense are sworn enemies, though. So when my ex's former intern wandered on the deck and wrapped me in his warm leather jacket, I was hooked.
Despite our age difference, I found myself on his living room floor, his head between my…you get the picture.
We made a deal…friends with benefits. That was all well and really, really effing good until he went from hookup buddy to potential baby daddy. I just have to work up the courage to tell him or dump him. I want this baby, but I don't want to tie Nick down when his life is just getting started…
About the Author
I live in Los Angeles with my husband, son, and a whole lot of pets. When I'm not hanging out in Hollywood, I'm eating my way through Budapest.
You can read more about my books at www.sylviefox.com.