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I instantly regret the words.
I know exactly what she wants to hear.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I wish there were something more I could say. I behaved horribly. And I’m sorry.”
“What happens if Iampregnant, Brock? What happens then?”
“Can’t we just wait and see what happens? Deal with it then?”
From the look on her face, I can see clearly that’s not what she was looking for in a response. But it’s all I can give her right now.
She’s ready for a baby.
I’m not.
God, I do love her, though. I love this beautiful woman. I never expected to fall in love, not at my age, at least. Sure, marriage, a family—they were all down the pike for me.
I figured maybe in my midthirties.
Not at twenty-four.
Not when…
Not when my family is being upended at every turn.
If only I could confide in her, tell her. But do I really want to lay that on her? When she’s going through her own shit?
No, I do not.
“Fine.” She purses her lips. “If you don’t mind, Brock, I think I’ll be going.”
I widen my eyes. “Actually, Rory, I do mind.”
“Let me rephrase that, then. I’m going.” She stands, takes her plate, which consists of a half-eaten burger, a potato, and peaches that weren’t touched at all, to the sink.
In an instant I’m behind her, my body touching hers, my dick hard and pressing into the small of her back.
Probably not what she needs right now, but my dick responds to her.
“Please don’t go,” I whisper in her ear.
She stiffens, throws her food down the garbage disposal.
I hate wasting food. My mom drummed that into my head early on. People are starving, so we don’t waste food.
“I thought you were hungry,” I say to her.
“Turns out I’m not.” She turns off the garbage disposal. “If you’ll excuse me, please.”
I don’t move.
I place my arms around her on the counter so she’s trapped.
“Excuse me, Brock,” she says again.
“Please, Rory.”
She seems to relax then, soften a little.
