Bossy Romance: Single Dad BWWM (Billionaire Dads)

ADAM

I close my bedroom door tightly and stare at my buzzing phone screen. The last time I spoke to Alexa, she told me I had a son.

What could she possibly want this time?

Uneasily, I answer. “Hello?”

“Is this Adam Harrison?”

“How did you get my number?”

“From your assistant.”

A prick of something dark stabs my heart. I should be surprised that Nova intervened and forged a link between me and Alexa behind my back.

But I’m not.

Nova has a habit of making moves and then informing me about them later. I trust her implicitly, so I’ve never had a problem before. But now… I wish she’d given me a heads up.

A simple ‘hey, remember that fling you had in college who sent an eleven year old to your doorstep? I gave her your number’ would have gone a long way.

“How’s Rowan doing? He didn’t respond to my texts tonight. He’s supposed to call me before he goes to bed.”

“He’s…” I stammer over my words. “He’s good.” I clear my throat. “For the most part.”

“For the most part? What does that mean?”

I rub the back of my neck.

“What happened to my son, Adam?”

“He had a minor accident in one of our labs today.”

“What?”

“It shouldn’t be fatal. I don’t think. We’re going to observe him over the next few days.” I try to make my voice more upbeat when I say, “But he should be fine. I’m eighty percent sure.”

“Adam, it’s been forty-eight hours since he’s gone to live with you and he already has a medical emergency?” Her voice rises to another level of frantic. “I’ve had my son for eleven years and he’s only gone to the hospital a handful of times! You need to do better than that.”

“I’m sorry, Alexa,” I grind out, my annoyance seeping into my tone. “Maybe if I’d had a little warning, I’d be better at this dad thing. But since you decided to sic Rowan on me at random, I’m still trying to get used to it.”

“He’s a child, not a dog, Adam. I can’t sic him on you.”

“You know what I meant,” I grumble.

“You’re his father. You should have been involved from the start. You’re eleven years too late.”

“And whose fault is that?” I bite out.

She goes silent.

I feel a flash of regret for lashing out at her and speak in a quieter voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know, Adam. Maybe it’s because we were never anything serious?”

“Come on, Alexa. That’s bull and you know it. If you’d told me, I would have taken responsibility.”

“I know.” Her words escape on an exhale. “I wanted to tell you. I went all the way to your dorm. Then I overheard some guys talking about how brilliant you were and how you were going to do great things. I didn’t want to clutter your life with a kid you didn’t ask for. I didn’t want to shackle you to me when I knew you didn’t love me. I thought I deserved more than that.”

I rub a hand over my face, my heart fraught with guilt. “You still should have—”

“We can’t change the past. Rowan’s with you now and you can prove exactly how you would have taken responsibility back then.”

“Of course I’m going to take responsibility.” If the kid’s really mine. “But Alexa, you were okay with hiding him for eleven years. I think I deserve to know why you suddenly changed your mind about keeping Rowan a secret.”

Her breath skitters through the phone.

She says nothing.

Finally, fabric rustles on her end of the line. “Look, let’s forget about everything else. Our son is all that matters.”

Our son.

That’s still so mind-boggling to me.

“Whether you knew or not, the truth is that you weren’t involved in Rowan’s life for over a decade,” Alexa says. “But now that you have him, you can’t keep ignoring him. That’s not how parenting works. You need to pay more attention to him if you want to keep him safe.”

“I’m doing my best here, Alexa.”

“Then obviously your best isn’t good enough!”

Her words scrape against my skin. I know I’m fumbling around on this ‘dad thing’ and it’s embarrassing. I don’t need anyone else rubbing salt in the wound.

“You can’t just drop him on me and expect my life to magically shift around. People don’t wake up and suddenly become the perfect dad.”

“Did I ask you to be a perfect dad, Adam?” Her voice rises. “I just asked you not to have our kid in the freaking hospital.”

I massage the bridge of my nose, my frustration bubbling up. “He’s fine.”

“Eighty percent fine.”

“That’s a passing mark.”

“Not in my books.”

I groan. “See, this is the reason we couldn’t make a real relationship work. We can’t communicate. You don’t get what I’m saying and, obviously, I don’t get what you’re saying either.”

“You’re right. We never could understand each other. But as crazy as we were, we did one good thing. We made a kid together.” She lets out a breath that whooshes over the phone. “I don’t care about our history or what you think of me, Adam. I don’t care about your excuses either. All I care about is Rowan being safe.”

If that’s true, then why did she shove her son on a bus by himself and let him show up on the doorstep of a total stranger? Why didn’t she come with Rowan and explain everything?

Something isn’t adding up.

“I need you to figure out this dad thing. Fast. Okay? You don’t have room to make any mistakes.”

“Why did you send Rowan to me after all these years, Alexa?” I ask urgently. “What’s really going on?”

“I have to go. Tell Rowan to call me tomorrow.”

“Alexa—”

The line goes dead.

I lean my head against the wall and grip my cell phone tight. Making a fist, I pound the wall once. Twice.

I feel like I’m standing on a rooftop that’s cracking into pieces. Any minute now and I’m going to fall right through and get buried under rubble.

Damn. I hate feeling helpless more than anything. And right about now, I’m walking in the dark with my hands tied behind my back.

Alexa’s hiding something, but I can’t even begin to imagine what that something is. What’s her real plan? What isn’t she telling me?

I take a big breath.

Another.

Another.

Obsessing over it won’t bring me closer to the answer.

One step at a time, Adam.

After a few more moments of freaking out and breathing hard, I feel calm enough to head outside and face Nova.

I turn the bend. “Nova, when did you give Alexa my… phone number?”

My words falter when I see my executive assistant curled up in the couch. Her hands are pressed together and flattened under her cheek. Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing deeply.

I move backward as quietly as I can. Hurrying to the closet, I pull out an extra blanket and return to the living room.

Nova adjusts her head as if she can sense me coming. Half of her curls are crushed against the sofa while the other half expands like a cloud. Her nostrils flare lightly with each breath.

My heartbeat slows down. Just watching her seems to untangle the knots that formed while on the call with Alexa.

I drape the blanket over her. It can get chilly out here at night and I don’t want her to tremble in her sleep. Nova snuggles into the blanket as if seeking out more of its warmth.

I crouch in front of her, my eyes tracing her dark forehead, the slope of her straight nose, and the shape of her luscious, brown mouth.

It’s strange. When Nova’s awake, she looks like an impenetrable wall of efficiency. Always on the go. Always tackling one problem or another.

In sleep, her shoulders don’t seem as strong. She looks smaller and more fragile, like a butterfly with delicate wings rather than a hawk with a sharp beak and talons.

“You must have been exhausted,” I whisper. Glancing up, I notice that the lasagna is untouched. She didn’t even eat before she fell asleep.

A surge of protectiveness washes over me. But it’s different than what I usually feel. This time, the surge is like an invisible fist that grips my heart until it’s almost painful.

“I want to make your life easier, but I don’t know how,” I admit.

Nova clutches the blanket and burrows deeper into it. She sighs so heavily that her eyelashes tremble.

Should I take her to my bed?

A picture fills my mind immediately, as if it had been waiting for a chance to debut. I see myself draping Nova over my bed. I see my fingers dragging over her collarbone, down to her belly button, moving lower, lower still.

Have mercy.

Stabbing that idea in the gut, I back away from the sofa.

I need to go to sleep before I do something stupid.

Like wake Nova with a kiss.

Like wrap my arms around her and move her to my bed.

Like drag that sensible skirt to her waist so I can see what’s underneath.

She’s not interested in me like that, and revealing how she makes me feel would be the biggest mistake of my life.

It’s one thing to lose her as an executive assistant.

But if I mess up and lose her altogether—

I wouldn’t be able to survive that.

The next morning, I wake up earlier than the sun. My bedroom is dark and my body is aching from the dream I had.

A wispy image from the dream carries on the wind.

Nova.

In lingerie.

Smiling at me from my bed.

I shake my head and stiffly shuffle to my feet.

My first instinct is to check on Nova, but I don’t trust myself to be near her right now.

Shower first.

And I’ll make it a cold one.

When I emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, I’ve got the beast inside—the one that wants to gobble up Nova every time she so much as bends down to pick up a pen—in check.

I’ve been wrestling with that dragon since Nova’s first day. Once he’s chained up where he belongs, I stand a better chance of keeping my hands to myself.

On the way to the living room, I pass Rowan’s room.

I stop and ease the door open. He’s lying beneath the blanket. It’s a cream shade, sandstone—at least that’s what Nova called it when she picked it out for me.

My eyes trip over the plain cream walls, bare except for a painting of the ocean. There’s a lamp next to the nightstand, a dresser and a small closet. The attached bathroom is decorated just as plainly.

Instead of getting a paternity test, you should make the guestroom kid-friendly.

Nova’s words return to haunt me.

I’m definitely getting the paternity test but… I can also do something about Rowan’s room. Nobody said I can’t do both.

I start to walk away when Rowan makes a sound of distress in his sleep. Alarmed, I hurry to the bed and bend over it. Noticing the sweat on his brow, I realize he might be having a bad dream and set a hand on his shoulder.

“Rowan, hey, buddy. You okay?”

At the sound of my voice, his expression eases and he goes back to sleeping soundly. I study the kid. With his face smushed into the pillow and his arms flung out, he doesn’t look so annoying. In fact, if I squint a little, he looks kind of sweet.

I remove my hand from Rowan’s shoulder. He rolls toward me as if he wants to keep me from leaving.

I’m surprised by how pleased that makes me.

“I’m still here, kid.” I run my hand through Rowan’s dark hair, noticing that it’s the same color and texture as mine.

I don’t know if he’s my son yet. But I do know that Nova’s right—I haven’t been putting much effort into getting to know Rowan.

Maybe that’s because I’m scared.

Scared that the moment I open my heart to him, my life really will be changed forever.

But is keeping my distance worth the risk?

Nova’s warning in the elevator yesterday, that I can’t make another first impression, seeps into my head.

I’ve been treating Rowan like an inconvenience.

Which he is.

But it doesn’t scrub away my responsibility.

“I’m going to try and do better, bud,” I promise under my breath. “It might take some adjusting, for the both of us. But I’ll get there.”

His mouth opens further and drool starts sliding out.

Ugh.

I back away from the bed and tiptoe to the living room. I half-expect Nova to be gone, but she’s still there.

I can’t begin to describe the relief that fills me when I see her trim body hidden under the blanket.

She’s sleeping peacefully.

As I watch her, another dream fills my head. Except this time, Nova has her clothes on. She’s gliding through the manor, getting ready for work. She’s there when I open my eyes in the morning. Every morning. She’s kissing me before she gets into the car with Steve.

My heart starts beating faster and faster with excitement.

Remember the line, Adam.

The warning does nothing to help me calm down.

Maybe I need something stronger than a cold shower.

Leaving the living room quietly, I head outside with my phone. The view of the sunrise is captivating, but that’s not what holds my attention.

A quick check of my phone reveals a new development.

Sometime last night, I got a text from Dejonae.

Hey, Adam. Just checking in. Remember, if you need anything, feel free to give me a call.

I re-read the message, hearing Dejonae’s earnest voice in my head.

It’s a mystery how Sazuki landed someone as warm and big-hearted as his girlfriend.

I smile to myself, and then I glance over my shoulder and study my slumbering executive assistant.

Come to think of it, I could use Dejonae’s help with something.

I text her back, assuming she’ll call me when she’s got a free moment.

But my phone lights up immediately.

“Hey, Adam.”

I blink in surprise. “Hey, I didn’t mean to bother you this early.”

“It’s okay. Niko woke us up an hour ago. She’s excited about the barbecue at the farmhouse tonight. She was up before the birds wanting to get ready for it.”

At the mention of Sazuki’s daughter Niko, I get a warm feeling in my chest.

Sazuki is fiercely protective of his kid. He didn’t even allow me to meet her, despite how long we’ve known each other. However, since Dejonae entered his life, he and Niko have been socializing a lot more. I hear his daughter has her own set of faithful friends.

“How is Rowan settling in?” Dejonae asks.

I lean against the porch railing, trying to decide if I should mention the goo incident. “Uh, he’s doing well. You know… we’re… adjusting to each other.”

“So it’s been close to a disaster?” Dejonae deduces.

I cough. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She laughs.

I hear something rumbling in the background.

“Oh, Sazuki’s here. I’ll put you on speaker, Adam.”

“Morning,” I greet him.

The famous musician grunts in response.

Always a conversationalist, that guy.

Dejonae takes over. “Your text mentioned you needed a stylist?”

“Yeah.” I look back at Nova again. “No cap on the budget. I just want someone good.”

“Is this for Nova?” Dejonae pries.

I hesitate.

“Did she stay over?” Dejonae presses. “Are you two finally together?”

“What? No,” I sputter.

“Well, that sucks.”

Sazuki grunts again. I can’t tell if that’s a good grunt or a bad one.

“She slept on the couch.” I don’t know why I’m telling them that, but the words come pouring out. “She’s been working hard lately and I want her to get an extra hour of sleep, but I know she’ll freak out when she wakes up. Especially if she has to go home, shower, and get changed. I figured, if she got ready here, she could rest for a while longer and then go straight to work.”

“Isn’t that romantic?”

“Why is that romantic?” Sazuki asks darkly. “It’s just a change of clothes.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she fires back.

“You find the strangest things romantic,” Sazuki mutters.

Dejonae laughs. “Adam?”

“I’m here.”

“You don’t have to worry about hiring a stylist. I’ll do it.”

“No, I couldn’t ask you.”

“It’s fine. You know my sister’s a model, right? I picked up on some things just by hanging around her.”

I squint into the distance. I faintly remember Sazuki mentioning that Dejonae’s sister worked in fashion.

Still, I resist. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Adam, why ask a random stranger, who’s never met Nova before, when I could help? I’ve got a good sense of her measurements and I know her style. I’m confident I can do a good job.”

“Just let her do it, Adam,” Sazuki says. “Or she’ll pout all day.”

“I will not. Stop talking nonsense.” The thudding that follows tells me Sazuki got a punishment for his teasing.

I hear his low laughter and figure he’s not too hurt by it.

“Alright. If you really don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” Dejonae squeals. “This’ll be fun. I’ll ask Yaya to pull some strings.” There’s a pause and then the sound of rushed movement. “I’ll need at least an hour. Is that enough time?”

“That’s perfect.”

“See you then.”

I hang up the phone and head back inside the house, tiptoeing past the living room to the kitchen. Nova didn’t eat my lasagna yesterday, so I’ll hold her hostage by making her some wheat pancakes and bacon.

I’m halfway through popping the bacon when Rowan emerges from his bedroom. His hair looks like a bird’s nest, he’s got a pillow crease on his cheek, and I think I see dried drool.

“Morning, kid.” I lift the spatula and flip the pancake. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He yawns.

I turn the stove on low and approach him. “Let me see your hand.”

He sticks both out to me.

I check his palm, glad that I’m not seeing any allergic reactions to the goo. Placing my hand on his head, I check if he has a temperature.

He gives me a strong look. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t feel like you have a fever,” I mumble. “Is your stomach okay?”

“I didn’t eat any of that stuff.”

“You can never be too careful. If you start feeling uncomfortable, you need to tell me right away.”

“You sound like mom,” he grumbles.

I’ll take that as a compliment.

See? Once I put my mind to something, I can get better at it.

I grin proudly and return to the stove.

Rowan glances past me and notices the lump in the sofa. He points. “Is that Nova?”

“Yeah. She’s really tired so…” I put a finger to my lips.

He nods.

I gesture to the stove. “Want to help?”

“Are you going to get angry with me for how I cook again?”

I shake my head. “I’ll keep a close eye on you this time. If things get messy, I’ll clean up by myself.”

“Deal.” He takes over the pancakes from me.

I clear my throat. “So, uh, did you have any plans for the summer?”

“Not really.” He pours batter smoothly into the pan.

“Not even with your friends?”

He shrugs.

“Did you have a lot of friends back home?”

He nods.

“You’re better than me. Growing up, I found it hard to make friends. They didn’t understand the things I was into. This one guy called me a freak when he saw me sketching out inventions in my notebook.”

“You sketch?” His eyes light up.

I take note of it. “Do you?”

He shrugs and flips the pancake.

So the kid likes to draw?

“I’ll show you some of my old notebooks later,” I promise.

He nods, an interested gleam in his eyes.

I hear sounds coming from the living room and twist around. Nova is sitting up, a perplexed look on her face. She glances down at the blanket, up at the walls and then smacks her head, cringing hard. When she swings around and meets my gaze, she goes completely still.

“Keep an eye on the bacon for me, Rowan.”

The kid nods.

I walk out to the living room. “Morning, darlin’.”

“I can’t believe I slept over.” Nova wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and touches her hair self-consciously. Her curls are a lot frizzier than usual. While one side is big and poofy, the other side—the side she was sleeping on—is adorably flat.

I can’t believe how stunning she looks with her makeup mostly worn off and her hair doing its own thing. It’s like I’m getting a glimpse of the wilder side of Nova, the real side. And I can’t look away.

My pulse picks up speed. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“You should have. This is… I shouldn’t be sleeping over.”

“Why not?”’

Her eyes dart to the side. “Because it’s inappropriate.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong, Nova.” I arch an eyebrow. “Besides, Rowan is here. We weren’t alone.”

She winces. “Still…”

“I, well, we made breakfast.” I gesture to where Rowan is standing at the stove. “You can tell me how inappropriate this was over pancakes and bacon. Turkey bacon. I know how you get about pork.”

“Oh no. I’ve already intruded too long. And I’m not hungry.” She wraps an arm around her stomach, which growls loudly in direct defiance of her statement.

I chuckle.

The doorbell rings at that moment, cutting off the rest of her protests.

“That must be Dejonae.”

“Dejonae? Sazuki’s girlfriend Dejonae?” Nova’s eyes widen.

“She’s early,” I mumble.

Opening the door, I nearly spring back when Dejonae launches inside with a bright smile. Another woman is with her. She’s tall and exuberant with long black hair and expressive brown eyes.

“Morning, Adam.” Dejonae charges past me. “Hey, Nova.”

Nova stiffens and lifts a hand in discomfort.

“I brought my sister Yaya. She picked the outfit, so I guarantee you’re going to love it.”

Yaya makes a gesture with her hands.

“My sister says your house looks cozy,” Dejonae translates. She stares at Yaya’s hands as they keep moving. “She says you’re pretty, Nova. And that you should model.”

I go slack-jawed when I see Yaya signing. I hadn’t realized that Dejonae’s sister was deaf. No wonder Dejonae knew sign language and connected with Niko so well.

“We hope you like the dress,” Dejonae says, shaking the garment bag hefted over her shoulder.

Nova doesn’t smile. Her eyes shoot to me. “Mr. Harrison, can I speak to you?”

My excitement turns to apprehension in a snap. Whenever Nova calls me ‘Mr. Harrison’ in that tone, I know I’m in for it.

“Dejonae, do you mind watching Rowan for a sec? He’s got the stove on and I—”

“Say no more.” Dejonae flies into the kitchen. “Yaya, come over here. Let me introduce you to Adam’s son.”

For the first time, I don’t flinch when hearing someone call Rowan my son. Progress.

My eyes return to Nova and I shrivel in the middle of her death glare. Swallowing hard, I follow her down the hallway.

When we’re far from the living room, she whirls on me. “Why’d you bother Dejonae?”

“I didn’t bother her. She offered to help.”

Nova’s eyebrows crash into an angry V. “Did you tell her I slept over last night?”

“I explained that you fell asleep on the couch.”

Nova starts pacing and I study her in confusion. “What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know, Adam. Maybe it’s that you dragged Dejonae into this for no reason.”

“Dejonae doesn’t mind helping out. She’s practically chomping at the bit to come and check on us.” I step closer to her. “Nova, what’s wrong?”

She steps back. “Nothing.”

I don’t let her shake me off. She wore a thunderous expression when she stomped here with me and now she’s pressing a hand to her throat like she’s being choked.

“Nova, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. Forget it. It’s fine.”

But I know those words are the biggest lies in the universe.

When she tries to scamper away, I press a hand to the wall, blocking her from leaving. She turns around and tries to escape the other way. I drop my other arm too, caging her in.

When it comes to that sassy mouth of hers, she can have me running in circles. But I’ve got her on brute strength alone. She’s not going anywhere.

Nova turns to me, her chest rising and falling. Anger spurts from her eyes. “How can I help you, Mr. Harrison?”

Again with the Mr. Harrison crap.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to have breakfast and a change of clothes. If I knew involving Dejonae would make you so uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“It’s not about Dejonae,” she croaks.

“Okay. Then tell me what’s really going on.”

Her eyes skate away from mine and she licks her lips. I watch her pink tongue skitter over her mouth and my body tightens like I’m being held in a fiery clamp.

Damn, I can almost taste her tongue on mine.

It’s like my fantasies are tiptoeing into reality and the line between professional and unprofessional is getting blurred by the minute. There’s a gravity between us that pulls my very soul closer to Nova’s, stealing my oxygen before it hits my lungs.

“Tell. Me.” My tone is dark. Darker than I’ve ever used with her and it’s only because I’m trying hard not to thrust her body against the wall and stick my hand up her skirt.

Scorching brown eyes shoot to mine, hot in their defiance. I meet her stare unflinchingly, not bothering to hide my frustration or my desire.

Her angry look begins to crumble. She falters, either from the intensity of my gaze or from pure shock. Her eyebrows jump just a bit and her fingers are quivering.

The silence is its own song, coiling around us, binding us together like a physical rope.

Nova holds my stare, keeping still and speechless.

She feels this too.

I can tell.

It makes me bold.

Lifting my hand, I skim calloused fingertips over the rim of her top lip, barely grazing the flesh of her mouth, dipping between the alluring cupid’s bow and stopping at the fullness of her luscious bottom lip.

My touch is the barest dance of fingers on skin.

But I feel the heat as if I’d kissed her, a fire shooting through my body, spreading out from my chest to every inch of me.

I’m a freaking inferno inside.

I lean my forehead against hers, closing my eyes, my breath skittering as I fight for control of myself. I know I’m losing this battle. That light floral scent coming from her hair teases my senses. Her curls are like catnip. I want to bury my face in them.

I want to bury myself in her.

My hands are greedy for Nova, already anticipating how soft she’d be if I could just grip her.

Damn. If I could just kiss her.

Just once.

But I know that once won’t be enough.

Not with Nova.

The air gets hot and sticky. Each labored breath from my mouth sounds like a gunshot in the hallway. I push my hands harder into the wall to keep from touching her. Restraint was never my strong suit, but I’ve had to grow a hell of a lot in that area. Especially when my assistant walks into view.

“W-what are you doing?” Nova croaks.

“You’re driving me insane.” I flatten my hands against the wall. My eyes rising to hers again, I whisper, “Is that intentional?”

Her fingers dig into her skirt. Her plump mouth falls open.

“Oh shoot. Sorry.” Dejonae’s voice is like a bucket of cold water.

Nova shoves me away with the force of someone twice her size. I go crashing into the wall and see stars.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dejonae says sheepishly. “I was just looking for the bathroom.”

“You didn’t interrupt anything,” I lie, massaging the back of my head.

Nova walks stiffly away from me.

Dejonae stops her. “Would you like to change now or after breakfast? I brought shoes and some underwear too.” She winks.

“Underwear?” Nova glances back at me, shooting lasers from her eyes.

“I didn’t ask her to bring underwear,” I defend myself, seeing the uneasiness in Nova’s face.

Dejonae looks up guiltily. “Oh, right. That was all me. I thought—”

“I won’t be staying for breakfast,” Nova barks.

I frown. “Nova.”

“I’m sorry you went out of your way,” Nova says, looking down at Dejonae. “I have a lot of things to do. I’ll leave first.”

Dejonae blinks in shock.

I shoot after her. “Nova.”

Dejonae steps into my path. She’s tiny but stubborn, like one of those loud chihuahuas. I step to the left, but Dejonae’s right there, an annoying burr in my sock.

To the right.

She blocks me again.

I can’t barrel past her. I can only stand back as the door opens and then shuts with a click.

Nova’s gone.

My heart slams into my rib cage.

I stare at the door as if I can will Nova back into the house.

But of course I can’t.

My shoulders tighten like a wind-up toy. I’m amped up from being near enough to kiss her and I’m still completely confused about what she’s angry about.

It’s like the closer I get to Nova, the more she pushes me away. I don’t understand.

“Adam, you can’t go after her like a cannon ball. These things require a delicate touch.”

“What are you talking about? What requires a delicate touch?”

“You and Nova.” She gives me a duh are you stupid? look.

I glance over Dejonae’s head again, only half present. The other half of me isn’t even in here. It’s with Nova, stuffed in her purse like a forgotten chocolate bar.

Should I disregard Dejonae’s suggestion and run after my executive assistant? Nova couldn’t have called a cab so fast. If I get in the car, I can chase her down…

Suddenly, the front door blasts open again.

My entire body zings with energy when I see Nova hustling inside.

Rowan steps into the living room. “Did you come back for the bacon?”

“No, sweetie.” Nova flashes him a brief smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

I rush out to meet her, recognizing that look of panic. “What happened?”

Crazy scenarios zip through my head. Did she witness a car accident on her way down the street? Did her taxi driver try to kidnap her? Was it aliens?

“We have a problem, Adam,” Nova cries, her voice edging on a tone I’ve never heard from her before.

I stare at her, waiting for her to reveal what’s got her so shaken up.

“I just got a call from our lawyers. We’ve been served with a suit.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “They’re accusing you of plagiarism.”