More, Please(46)

“Finally!” I rubbed my tired eyes. That should keep Bruce off my back for a few days. Maybe.

I checked the time. Hunter would probably be over soon. Hopefully.

I thought back to his almost-admission from the week before. He had been going to say he loved me. It had to be. He hadn’t said anything since, but I often saw that emotion in his eyes. The emotion he’d had when he started to say the word. It was just a matter of time.

I turned around and stared at the stack of boxes. What a pain. I hated unpacking. I wouldn’t even need most of the stuff. Janelle had stocked the flat pretty well.

My gaze roamed over the various boxes, as I tried to figure out where to start, when it snagged on two boxes at the bottom. A chill passed up my spine as I stared at the word “bathroom” printed on the side.

“Oh shit,” I whispered, getting up with wooden movements.

My phone rang. I barely heard it.

Like a zombie, I moved one box after the other, working down to that “bathroom” box. Once there, I ripped it open and rifled through it.

It didn’t have what I was looking for.

I found the next and did the same, pushing past some bath towels to find my little blue canvas bag. I took it out and stared at it.

I had been a week without taking the pill. And not the sugar pill week, either, where your body and Aunt Flow battle, cramps make your life miserable, and you just wait for the end. No. The week after that.

I’d had sex nearly every day. Unprotected.

What the fuck had I been thinking?

I never forgot the pill. Never! I was religious about it. Always had been. I’d never even had a scare before, I was that conscientious.

Yet this last week it hadn’t crossed my mind once. Not once.

I groaned.

Hunter had trusted me. This was such a big deal, and Hunter had trusted me with it in a way he hadn’t trusted anyone else. But aside from that, what the fuck was I thinking?

Hyperventilating, I walked out to the living room. Once there, I wiped my suddenly damp forehead and sat on the couch. My phone rang in my office again.

I had to tell him. There was no way around that. We’d have to use condoms for the rest of the month, and he’d want to know why.

My stomach churned. The good news was that I probably wasn’t pregnant yet. Ovulation happened more toward the middle of the cycle. I think.

I got up and paced in the middle of the living room.

He was supposed to be home in an hour or so and we were going shopping for God-knew-what. Naturally, I should just wait until he got home, admit my mistake, and assure him we were probably fine.

Fear worked through my body and out through my limbs. I shook out my hands. He had every right to be extremely pissed off about this. I had majorly screwed up. This wasn’t one of those situations where both parties were equally to blame; this was all down to me. I’d assumed responsibility, assured him I was trustworthy, and then been negligent.

I started back to my office, thinking that working might distract me until Hunter got home. I could do some things for Hunter. Or go over that code again for Bruce. I didn’t have high hopes that it would work, but pacing in the middle of the floor wasn’t doing any good.

As I passed the door, I heard the gate of the building clang. I froze. It could be anyone. Janelle often stopped by on her day off—maybe she’d forgotten something. Or maybe Mrs. Foster had…

I watched the door handle turn before the door swung open. In stepped an incredibly handsome man with a tailored suit, loosened tie, and sexy bedroom eyes.

“Why are you home so early?” I said in a hoarse voice.

A crease formed between Hunter’s eyebrows. His expression turned into one of confusion as he closed the door behind him. “Are you okay?”

“You’re home early,” I said again.

“What’s the matter?” Hunter walked toward me, reaching out to brush his hands across my cheek when he neared.

I flinched, fear clawing at me. Tears came to my eyes. “I fucked up, Hunter. I fucked up really bad.”

“Hey.” He grabbed me, pulling me into his body. “What happened?”

I pushed against him, struggling out of his grip. A terrified, angry tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away as my chin trembled. “I forgot to take the pill. All week I forgot. I’ve been without protection.”

Fear welled up again, not just from what he might say or do, but from the uncertainty of what that just might mean. I was young, just starting out, and had no solid ties to the man in front of me. If he fired me, I would immediately go back to unemployed with a mountain of debt. How could I possibly raise a child, too? How could I afford it, much less grow up to nurture it? I could barely take care of myself!