Angie sits there staring at me in horror. “Gavin, I know what it probably sounded like, but I was just kidding. What are you—”
“You were kidding about not being on the pill?”
“No, but—”
“Kidding about being stuck with me?”
She has the grace to look guilty about that at least, but I don’t hear any denials. I know what girls think of me, money and sex. I’m not in love with Angie, so why does it hurt so much when I hear her admit to being just like all the others?
“You think you’re the first one to try it? You know what? It’s my own fucking fault. I didn’t even ask. You screwed up though, talking where I could hear you. Would’ve been safer to wait a few days. Could’ve had that many more chances to hit the jackpot. Wouldn’t that have been fun?” I need to get the fuck out of here. I feel like such an idiot.
“Gavin!” She’s crawling over the bed, looking drop dead sexy. “You’re acting crazy. It was a mistake! We were drunk. I didn’t even think about it, which was dumb, yeah, but we were both stupid. I was just nervous and joking with Cassie.”
It would be easy to believe her. I’ve gotta get out of here before I head back in and fuck her again. Tears run down her face, but I’m not fucking falling for it. Not again. Pulling on my pants, I ignore her. A shirt, a pair of shoes, and I’m gone. This is exactly the kind of shit I was afraid of, and I should’ve fucking known better. Nobody is too cute, or too innocent when money’s involved.
“I need some space. Do me a favor and stay out of my way. I’ll do the right thing if I have to, but enjoy this honeymoon, because we’re not having another one.” I’m fucking growling, I’m so pissed.
My hangover is back, a painful spike hammering through my skull. Even as I tear open the door to the hallway, leaving Angie behind naked on the bed, all that flashes in my brain are memories from last night. Of her under me. On top of me. Of me fucking her deep and making her mine.
Fuck. I need a drink.
Chapter 24: Angie
The door slams behind him, and I sag back on the bed, stunned.
What just happened? Irritation, panic, a joke about knocking me up on my wedding night. All of those I could have understood, but not that. He exploded. There’s no other word for it. Does he really think I could do something like that? I knew when he made the comment about my mother’s motivation that it was something he worried about, but me?
That’s tinfoil hat level paranoia.
I can’t take back last night, even if I wanted to. Even now, I don’t know that I do. Last night was incredible. I’d never thought anyone would be able to make me feel like that. I didn’t know it was possible to feel like that, but he made my first time magical. There’s no way he didn’t feel it too.
Shit.
I need someone to talk to. Joyce? I guess, if I wanted to hear about how the same thing happened with her second husband who was amazing with his toes. Pass. I blow my hair out of my eyes in frustration. Yes, that’d be great. How would I even start? “Hi there, inappropriate old lady, let me tell you about how I fucked my stepbrother and how awesome it was until he flew off the hook.” I’m sure she’d love it.
I guess Cassie would be the obvious choice. Picking up the phone from my nightstand, I scroll until I find her name and tap the call button. It rings a bunch of times and I almost give up, but then I hear her familiar voice. “Angie! Are you alright?” She’s concerned. I cut her off pretty suddenly before the argument.
I sigh. “Yeah. Or at least I will be.” I think.
“Whoa, what happened? I heard Gavin in the background before you hung up, and he sounded really pissed.”
I want to cry again, and it pisses me off that he can make me feel that way. “Yeah, you could say that. He overheard us talking, and now he’s convinced that I tried to get him to knock me up. Like I’m some gold digging slut. What the hell is up with that?” For once, Cassie’s quiet. Like dead quiet, so long that I think I’ve lost my connection, except that I can hear her breathe. “Cassie? Are you there?”
“Yeah. Just not sure what to say. What a prick.”
“Well, I mean, I guess what we said sounded bad, but—”
“Seriously? Making excuses for him?”
“No, I’m not. It’s just—”
“Angie. Listen to yourself. You don’t actually want him, do you?”
“No!” I say it way too quickly, too defensively, and she hears it. “But I might be pregnant. With him.”
“I know it’s scary, trust me, but Angie? We had our periods together like last week.”