The Rebel's Own(8)

A pang of guilt raked over him when he realized how possessive and how excessive his need had been for her. But Bailey hadn’t complained, she’d soared with him and they’d let out their cries of release together. Nothing except football had felt so right before in his life. His hand froze before his fingers could curl around his rigid member for release. He had emptied every bit of himself inside her. There was no barrier between them last night.

Fear struck him like a bolt of lightning. What if that was what she wanted all along? Could Bailey have trapped him into getting her pregnant only to come and collect money from him later? His throat closed over the very thought. No, he shook his head furiously in denial, as if he could shake the troublesome idea clear out of it. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. But the sweet passion of the memory grew darker with bitterness and fury. He was an idiot—an idiot who had been trapped.

Ryan was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Clara walk into the bathroom. The translucent shower door opened suddenly and a fuming blonde stood in front of him holding out a scrap of paper.

“What is this?”

Ryan looked at her, confused. “I don’t know, you tell me. You have it in your hand.”

Her jaw clenched she unfolded the note, “Rebel, meet me where we first met. I won’t be wearing any panties. B. Who the fuck is B?”

Ryan leaned back on the wall, a giddy giggle escaping his lips. His hand lay on his chest as the giggle turned into a chuckle then to a bellow of laughter. He didn’t know what made him happier, that Bailey wasn’t trying to trap him or that she wasn’t going to be wearing any panties for their next meeting. His frozen heart thawed out.

He stepped out of the shower, tying a towel around his waist. “What time does it say?”

“What?”

He regretted asking when he saw her face burn crimson. He reached out for the piece of paper but she stepped back. Annoyed Ryan reached out again, but this time Clara turned around and flushed the piece of paper down the toilet.

“There, now you won’t know when to meet her,” she said, with a smug smile.

Ryan stared at her. His voice was a low bark as rage burned through him and he said, “I’ll have someone pick up my things by the end of the day. You better find someone else to leech off of, because I won’t be paying your bills anymore. You can keep the car; I don’t want anything that will remind me of you around me.”

“You can’t leave!”

“I need to change this excuse of a life I’m living. You need to change too.” Ryan rolled his eyes as he walked into the bedroom. He waited for Clara to come up with a list of why he shouldn’t leave her crazy behind. He pulled a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on. He turned to face Clara and could see her trying to master every tear duct in her eyes to release a drop of moisture. “Don’t cry. We both know you aren’t capable of emotion.”

“I’m pregnant,” she announced.

Ryan took a step back, the news hitting him like a ton of bricks. He opened and shut his mouth in surprise, lost at what to say. He watched her, curiously and suspiciously. But then his mind recovered and the wheel in his brain started to turn, “Really? You were drinking last night.”

“I only found out this morning,” Clara fired back, her retort sharp.

“Where is the test?” Ryan stalked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers, searching for a sign of deceit on her face.

“I threw it out.” Clara flipped her hair and stood her ground.

Her act of defiance almost made him believe her. But then Ryan remembered whom he was dealing with. “We need to go to a doctor and have it confirmed.”

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“When did that happen? Before or after your boob job? Or was it your nose job?” Huffing with a hard impatient sigh, Ryan grabbed her arm and forced her towards the living room. “I am taking you to a hospital. Unless you want to tell me the truth before we get there.” Clara turned her nose up at him, as if she was daring him to drag her unwillingly to the doctor. She was challenging him, and he could tell. Cautious not to inflict any harm just in case she was telling the truth, Ryan lifted her into his arms and walked out of the apartment to the elevator. Clara hadn’t said anything yet, but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Nothing yet?”

When they got to the front desk, Ryan could see the swarm of paparazzi through the clear glass doors. Clara craved attention, now this was her chance to have them eating out of her hands, of giving them something they’d been craving for years. “Maybe we should share the news of your pregnancy with your pals. Then later we can show them the doctor’s report.”