“You fucking tell me,” I snap in return. “You brought the condoms.”
“You’re not on birth control?”
A little late for that question now, isn’t it?
But I keep that snark to myself as I set aside the now-warm paper towel Leo had pressed to the back of my neck in the bathroom.
After the whole What the fuck? discussion.
He marches back over, snags it from me, scowl deepening as he carries it to the sink and runs water over it again.
Then he’s pressing it against my forehead, ordering, “Keep it there. You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” I mutter dryly. “And no, I’m not on birth control. I can’t take it.”
His brows come up, a silent question in his deep brown eyes.
“It makes me sick,” I explain.
“Not sicker than a baby, I bet.”
Probably not.
But, fuck, I can’t do this right now, can’t break this down, can’t think of what it means. Not with my stomach churning and my throat on fire and…ugh. I hate that Leo standing here in front of me just makes me wish that things were different.
Pathetic, I know.
And yet…there it is.
“Look—” I begin.
“Are you going to keep it?” he asks coolly.
Ice flows through me and I lift my chin. “Why do you care?”
I could have been off banging men left and right for all he knows.
It could be anyone’s baby currently playing interloper inside my womb.
Of course, it’s not. It’s?—
“Because it’s mine.”
My teeth clench together so tightly a bolt of pain shoots through my jaw.
“Isn’t it?” he presses.
“Again, why do you care?”
“It’s mine,” he semi-repeats with a kind of ringing finality that gets my back up.
I toss the paper towel to the side then glare at him. “I think you made it pretty damned clear that you wanted to have nothing to do with me, so I’m going to remind you that you can’t possibly give a fuck about what’s happening inside my body.”
He opens his mouth, sighs, and closes it.
I keep going. “And furthermore, I could have spent the last couple of months taking up residence in Pound Town and sleeping with guys left and right! You have no idea if this baby even is yours!”
My chest heaves as he comes over, his footsteps clicks on the floor. Then he lifts the paper towel from the table, gently sets it on the back of my neck. “You’re not the type to sleep around, Harp, and the timing makes sense. Yes, I used a condom, but they’re not foolproof.”
