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My brow creased. “Did he force himself on you?” I recalled Orson’s persistence at the Green Room.
“Not really. I was drunk. And maybe hedidtake advantage of me because of that. All I know is I hated it.”
I gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know how that feels. I’ve had lots of regrettable sex.” I smiled. “You’re just as wild as I once was.”
Her face lit up in horror. “I’m nothing like you. Before we slept together, I hadn’t had sex for six months. I was sworn off it.”
Comparing her to me was a bit of a stretch—up to a couple of months ago, I didn’t go one night without sex. “Let’s leave it there. Hey?”
She looked up at me, like a girl lost. “You forgive me?”
“Look, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little hurt. But you’re right—we weren’t committed. My mother is so out of line. I’m sorry.” I tapped the sofa. “Come on, sit here, and I’ll massage your shoulders.”
Chapter 19
Mirabel
“Mm…you’rereallygoodat this.” I closed my eyes as his soothing strokes untangled gnarls and knots. No matter how nice his hands felt on my tense muscles, he couldn’t massage away the bubbling angst.
Regardless of my resentment over his mother’s intrusion into my private life, now that the cat was out of the bag, Ethan asking about Orson was understandable. If Ethan didn’t care, he wouldn’t have questioned me. Cold comfort.
I would have wanted to know if he’d fucked someone while we’d been hooking up, despite my sleeping with Orson happening when we were no longer hooking up. My heart read this thing between me and Ethan differently than just hooking up. I wanted so much to keep hating him. That would have been easier.
Ethan was no longer that shallow, party boy I loved to tease. I could also see growth.
He wasn’t just ridiculously sexy and fun to be with, he was also kind and had a deeper side. I’d been the one too quick to judge.
Despite his bad boy period, Ethan had always been a good person.
And now,perhapsthe father of my child.
My heart sighed as his lips brushed my cheek.
“I have to tell you something,” I said at last, acid exacerbated by persistent nausea burning my gut. The concern in his eyes made me dig into my palms. If my fingernails weren’t so blunt from being chewed, I would have drawn blood. I puffed out a loud, steadying breath.
“What’s wrong?” He opened out his hands.
I got up from the couch. I couldn’t think straight while he was so close. Just the mere whiff of him was like taking a pill that airbrushed life’s blemishes.
I had to tell him because I was keeping this child. I wanted to be a mother. I’d always wanted to be a mother. And thirty was a good age.
Ethan watched me pace.
“I’m pregnant,” I said at last.
I stared him in the eyes, and within a breath, the blood drained from his face. His gaze filled with horror, and his mouth dropped, like the joint in his jaw had broken.
“When did you find out?” he asked at last.
“This morning. I did a pregnancy test.”
His face brightened a tad. “But it could be a mistake. That happened to Savvie once.”
I shook my head. “I did it twice. And I’ve been vomiting. I feel different.”
“But I thought you were on the pill.”
I released a jagged breath. This wasn’t an easy confession. “I sometimes forget.”
