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“Yeah, babe.” I set her coffee down and sit across from her.
“The condom.”
“I know.” I plant my elbows on the table and run both hands through my hair. “It fucking sucks we have to use one, but I’ve got issues about it.”
She looks up at me, her bottom lip between her teeth. “Issues . . .?”
I massage my jaw. It’s not something I enjoy talking about, but I feel close to Halston right now. And I plan to get even chummier, so she needs to know. I’m comfortable enough to go where I’d rather not. “Kendra and I dated when I was just out of college, for about a year, and then I ended things. But she was used to getting what she wanted, and she wanted me.”
She knits her eyebrows. “What’s that have to do with condoms?”
“She came by one night. We had break-up sex. No big deal, lots of couples do it, but it didn’t change my feelings for her. We were completely over. Unfortunately, she didn’t tell me she’d stopped taking birth control. That’s how Marissa was conceived.”
Halston looks horrified. “Oh my God.”
I sip my drink and Halston does the same. The mug’s the same cool gray as her eyes. “Yeah. It started this whole downward spiral of stuff. I felt responsible, so I married her. Her parents were devastated. They thought I was a bum. At the time, I’d been trying to make it as a photographer, but I was barely getting by. Her dad got me admitted into business school without asking me, and I went. Not for him or for Kendra, but for Marissa. I knew, even if I tripled the work I was doing as a photographer, there was no supporting a child on what I’d be making.”
“She manipulated you.”
“And she’s been doing it ever since. The affair was the catalyst for the divorce, so she brings it up any chance she gets. She uses Marissa against me at every turn. It’s not ideal, but it’s my life.”
Halston doesn’t respond. At first, I think she’s shocked, but then I realize she’s gulping air fast—too fast to let any out. “I-I . . .”
I stand, pushing my chair back. “What’s wrong?” She turns sheet-white and begins to wheeze. I kneel in front of her. “Are you having a panic attack?”
Distantly, she looks down and grabs the edge of her t-shirt. Awful scenarios filter through my head. Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Did the Kendra stuff scare her? She lifts the hem, but there’s nothing there.
“Halston, talk to me. What is it?”
“I think the condom broke.” She touches herself between the legs, and her fingers come back slick. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose.”
I sit back on my heels. My relief eases slightly, but not completely. Fuck. I didn’t check the condom before I tossed it. It definitely wasn’t empty, but maybe it wasn’t full, either. I cover her hand with mine. “Are you on birth control?”
“Yes. I swear, I would never, ever lie about that, no matter how upset . . . no matter how much I wanted . . .”
I kiss her hand. “I believe you. I do. It’s not—I mean, if I have any doubt, it’s because of Kendra, not you.”
“You have some doubt, though?” she asks, her voice small.
I wish I could say no, babe, of course not, like a normal boyfriend would. It’s just that Kendra blindsided me so bad, I still haven’t recovered. I was in shock until well after I’d made an honest woman of her and Marissa was born. Not even Sadie shook that distrust in me. She might’ve eventually, but I made sure we used a condom every time we were together. “I don’t doubt you,” I say. “But it goes deep. I don’t even have the faith I should in condoms or birth control. When it comes to this, I don’t entirely trust anything I can’t see with my own eyes.”
“I can show you my pack,” she says and goes to stand. “It’s in my—”
I push her back into the seat. “It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. I don’t want you to think I . . . that it was intentional or—”
I smile a little, and she stops, clearly confused. It’s just fucking cute that she’s so worried about it, and for some reason, it makes me less worried. “I know you didn’t.”
Finally, she deflates into the chair. “I promise.”
I chuckle. “I hear you.”
She looks out the window over the kitchen sink. “Okay. Good.”
“Yes, good,” I repeat, trying to catch her eyes, because she doesn’t sound at ease. Once again, I’ve gone and spoiled her mood. Fuck me. “Shit, if it’s anyone’s fault the condom broke, it’s mine,” I say, attempting to cheer her up. “I’m the one who bought them. And it was my bright idea to fuck in the shower. You have every right to be suspicious I plotted to get you pregnant.”
She whips her head around, her expression pure shock.
I grin. “If you don’t shut that mouth,” I warn, “I will kiss you.”
She covers her lips and says through her hand, “Please go clean it.”
I laugh, standing. I’d like to kiss her at some point today, so I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. The condom’s on top of the trash, full of my jizz. It doesn’t look broken from here. I’m good. I should be totally good. Condoms break all the time. The chances of pregnancy without a condom or birth control are relatively low. And I barely came in her. We’ll be fine.
Belatedly, though, I think about what I just said to tease her. Me, plotting to get her pregnant. It’s the last thing I want, and maybe that’s the reason it turns me on to think about. Coming inside her. Claiming her permanently. I never had that urge with Kendra. Before our split, I’d been adamant about not having another baby. With Sadie, I thought about our future a lot, but a family would’ve been a concession on my part to win her.
On my way out of the bathroom, I stop at my nightstand for another condom. They might be crap, but they’re all I’ve got and I’m not about to get dressed and go downstairs to find more. I start to shut the drawer when I catch sight of Halston’s journal. God, just a couple weeks ago, I was jerking it to her words. I would’ve given anything to have her.
Now I do.
I pick up the warm, weighty leather with respect and gratitude and bring it with me to the kitchen. She has her hands curled around the fog-colored mug, her cheeks pink from hot coffee and hotter sex.
“Hey,” I say, passing through as I head to the living room. “Come with me.”
I go to the couch, lie on my back, and open an arm to her.
“What’s that?” she asks from the doorway.
“You know very well what it is.”
She half rolls her eyes but comes to me. As she settles in, I take a moment to appreciate how her skin warms against mine. How she fits herself to my side. Her silky blonde hair tickles my bicep as she runs her fingers up my middle, abs to chest. I won’t last like this very long, so I open the journal. “Read to me. Will you?”
She takes a few moments to answer. “I don’t know.”
I turn on my side, encircling her from behind, and flip through the book so we both can see. She stops me by touching one of the pages. “This one.”
I nuzzle her ear and whisper the first line to her. “‘I have a thirst I can’t deny.’”
“‘I try, baby, do I try,’” she says. “‘But I want to be drunk down like you do a handle, taste me better than your first-love liquor, your fingers tightening around my whiskey-bottle neck.’”
I’m harder than hard against the cushion of her ass. I let go of one side of the journal and gently take her throat in my hand. When she lifts her chin, I angle over her to capture her mouth. I accidentally drop the book but leave it. Her words are sex, and I need to feel her now. Shoving down my underwear, I push into her from behind.
“Oh my God,” she groans. “Oh, fuck. But the condom.”
“Just for a second,” I say. I trust myself, and only myself, not to go too far. “I just want to feel you.”
