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“Spill.” Kimber lets out a sound like she’s being tortured over there.
“Well, you know.” My face flushes. We’ve ‘you know’d’ it so many times I lost count.”
“You use protection?” she asks.
I almost drop the phone on my face. For once, I actually have a small amount of hand eye coordination and catch it before it hits me. I sit up.
“No,” I gasp out.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm?” I shoot back. “All you have is hmm?”
She looks like she’s thinking. “Just thinking maybe he’s serious with you or maybe he thinks you’re on the pill?”
Now my mind starts to race. Did he think I was on the pill? Does he just sleep with random women without condoms? Was he trying to knock me up? What would happen if I got knocked up? Would he leave again without notice? I have so many questions. Instead of this being fun girl talk, it’s taken a drastic turn into real life talk.
“He could be shooting blanks and isn’t worried about it.” I don’t know if Kimber is trying to help but that doesn't help at all. A baby. My hand goes to my stomach; the thought of having one and not having one is equally as scary.
“Calm down.” Kimber’s voice drops to a soothing tone. My face must show it all. “It’s all going to be fine,” she tries again.
I shake my head no. It’s not going to be fine. I don’t know what it’s going to be.
I rise from my bed and drop my phone onto it before heading for my closet. “Pick me up!” Kimber demands.
“I’m getting dressed,” I shout as I dig through my closet for something to wear. I pull on my normal yoga pants and a shirt, then I pick the phone back up as I slip on shoes. “Should I say something?”
“He doesn't strike me as the unsafe kind of man.” She’s right. He doesn't. He’s meticulous about pretty much everything. So if it’s not a matter of him being unsafe, then he knew what he was doing.
I start to pace back and forth in my bedroom. Jinx returns to the bed to watch me.
“Lena. Calm down.”
“This is new, but I need him.” I swallow at how true that is. “He calms me. But now there’s this huge possible problem and it’s about him and now I don’t know what to do!” I shout the last part. Oh God, I’m too attached to him. When Kimber left, it was hard. Really freaking hard, but I knew we’d be back together one day. That isn't true with Heath. He could leave me. Walk away without a backwards glance. My throat starts to constrict.
“Breathe. The man is in love with you, Lena. Think about it.” I hear what she’s saying but how could she know that? “Think about it. Do you really think you’ve been a topnotch spy, or you think he’s been letting you have your fun because he cares about you?”
“I’m a good spy.” I stop pacing to defend myself.
She raises one of her perfect eyebrows at me. “Man’s been into you from the start or he would have gotten a restraining order.”
“Hey--”
She keeps going.
“If you think the girl next door to you is stalking you and might be crazy, you don’t sleep with her. Unless you’re into it. He’s into it. Really into you.” She quirks a smile. “In more ways than one.” She laughs at her own joke.
I fight not to laugh with her, but a snort comes from me.
“Go talk to him.” She waves a hand at me. “Discuss it. Tell him your thoughts, and ask him his.”
She’s right. That’s the adult, rational thing to do.
After hashing it out with her for a few more minutes, I say my goodbyes, then give myself a pep talk before I head over to Heath’s. My hand goes to my belly, and I can’t help but smile. A baby. I think that would be so wonderful, which really isn’t a rational thought. I don’t even know what Heath actually does for a living. We don’t live together or say I love you. I just stalk him and he gives me crazy pleasure that I’ll never be able to live without again. This is just so fast, and now there could be a baby in the mix and instead of being mad, I’m . . . tentatively happy? I am no longer a stalker. Now, I am a stage five clinger.
I pull my hair up and leave my bedroom, resolved to discuss it with him. I freeze when in my kitchen I see a man in all black. He’s short. He’s maybe only an inch taller than me, but he’s built. Jinx is sitting on the counter, his back bowed, his hair on end. No one moves or says a word. My eyes flick to the gun in his hand. My heart drops. My hand goes to my stomach.
“I’m pregnant,” I say. I could be?
