I lift and drop one shoulder. “Of course something like that would happen. To me, I mean.”
“Why should that happen to you?” he asks, surprise morphing to curiosity.
“Because of The Cur—”
“Don’t call it a curse,” he interrupts, glaring a little.
“Okay, fine. Because of the supernatural-phenomenon-surrounding-my-fertility-and-that-of-every-woman-I’m-descended-from.” I frown. “Doesn’t really roll off the tongue, does it?”
Luc visibly fights a grin. “Millie, I’m being serious.”
“Me too.” I nod. “But, honestly, when you put it on—the condom, I mean—there was a part of me that literally thoughtwhy bother?”
“Seriously?” Astonishment rings from the question.
I shrug again. “Granted, I wasn’t at my most rational at that juncture,” I admit. “But, yeah, kind of. I mean, if my parents resorted to a vasectomy, and even that failed in the face of cosmic interference, what good is a little latex balloon?”
Luc narrows his eyes in a sinister expression.“Little?”
I smile huge. “Massive. Massive latex balloon.”
Hello, dimples.
“Anyway, I figure we both know the score. You were warned at least.”
Luc rolls his eyes. “I’m just glad you aren’t upset. At first I wasn’t going to say anything about it.”
Something in his voice snags my attention. “What made you change your mind?”
“Because.” Luc’s face hardens in a way I’ve never seen before. “If you wanted to do something about it, there’s still time.”
Later, I’ll look back on this moment and realize just how naive I am. But right now, I still have no clue.
“What do you mean?” Honest to God. No clue. “Time for what?”
His expression doesn’t change. It’s as hard as granite. “To get a prescription.”
I stare at him, still completelysansclue.
“You know,” he says with a shrug and a disconcerted frown. “Plan B.”
When the penny drops, it’s with a trumpet blare of adrenaline. I swear, I hear the blast as it enters my bloodstream. My vision tunnels, and my mouth turns to cotton.
“Plan B,” I parrot. “Right.” The words sound as dry as cornhusks.
I realize I’ve been standing in the center of hope, rocking in its orbit, like a girl with a hula-hoop. And it just clattered to the ground.
I’m not taking Plan B. I’d never take Plan B. That’s not the problem. The problem is that I would have never expected Luc Valencia to suggest it. And because I never expected it, I feel like the dumbest person in the world.
Becauseit’s too much to ask.
My life. Everything I am. What I’m destined to be. It’s too much to ask.
And I knew that before I fell for him, and I still let myself fall.
Stupid.
Stupid.
