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“But?” She keeps her eyes closed. “There’s always a but with you.”
Of course she noticed I dodged her question.
I stand in front of her and put my hands on her waist. “If something did happen—that, I wouldn’t hate.”
She opens her eyes. Her hands are still on her head. Steam swirls around us.
I wait for my heart to thump. Pulse to scream. But everything inside me feels steady. Sure.
“Brooks.”
“Yeah?” I grab the soap.
“This is only, what, the sixth time we’ve had sex?”
“Tenth.”
“We’ve had this conversation before. Only the roles are reversed now.”
It hit me just now how much I want you to stay. Possibly forever. “You convinced me last time. If I need to convince you, so be it.”
“Fine. We’re too new.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m way too young.”
“I know.”
“I’m not ready for . . . that.”
I squeeze some soap into my hands and rub them together, creating a lather. “I respect your timing. Always have, always will.”
“You brought up my brother, and so will I.”
“We’re going to have to tell him. Not about the broken condom.” I put my hands on her shoulders and begin to soap up her skin, the clean, herbal scent of the body wash blooming between us. “But about us.”
Her eyes go wider. “Brooks, we’re not . . . together together.”
“Yes we are. I gave you the fucking key to my place, Greer. That means we’re together.”
Her breath catches when my hands move to her breasts. I pluck their hardened tips between my fingers, making her eyes flash with heat. “I know I keep saying this, but it feels like we’re happening really fast.”
“I disagree.” I watch her expression go hazy when I lather her up between her legs. “We’ve known each other forever, sweetheart. Friends for a decade. The foundation is there. We just added the sex, which is excellent. No wonder we went from zero to sixty in, like, three seconds.”
“I’ve—” She moans when I glide my fingers over her clit, her hands flying to my forearms to steady herself. “I’ve known you forever, and I’ve wanted you forever.”
My heart twists. I look her in the eye. “Now you have me. Let’s stop wasting time.”
She searches my gaze. A full beat passes as the meaning of my words sink in. I’m yours. For as long as you’ll have me, Greer, I’m yours.
She squeezes my forearms. “You have me too.” Her hips roll into my touch. “You wouldn’t be upset. If I got pregnant.”
“Only if you were upset. Otherwise, no.”
She smiles, digging her teeth into her bottom lip as her eyes flutter shut. I let out a silent sigh of relief. “You’d really want that. With me.”
“Do you want me to get you pregnant?” I tease, nicking her jaw with my teeth. “Because I will. Gladly.”
Greer isn’t wrong. It’s weird we’re joking about this. Weird we’re talking about it, period. We’re jumping a hundred steps ahead. But if I’m being honest, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels right. Like this conversation is one we’d end up having anyway, whether it’s tonight or two years from now.
She shakes her head. “No. But one day, maybe. It’s kind of wild to think about, isn’t it?”
Wild. Hot. Exciting.
I unhook a nearby sprayer from the wall and use it to make her come again. She laughs at the unexpected pleasure of it.
She asked me to be careful with her. I’m trying. Really fucking hard. I just hope I can figure out a way to keep her safe and make her happy in the end.
We get lucky: my doctor friend, Ria, picks up my call on the first try.
Long story short, Greer needs to take Plan B as soon as possible. It’s available without a prescription, but it may be kept behind the counter at the pharmacy.
The closest pharmacy, a few blocks away, closes in thirty minutes.
“I’ll go,” Greer says, rising off the couch.
I’m already on my feet, so I put a hand on her stomach and carefully press her back down onto the cushions. “Absolutely not. I got this. You stay here and have another glass of wine. Relax. I can tell you’re still a bundle of nerves, despite the fantastic orgasm I just gave you. I can’t believe you’ve never gotten off using a shower head before.”
Despite the glassy look in her eyes, Greer gives me a funny little shrug. “Guess I’ve been living under a rock. Or in a bakery. I keep having all these firsts with you.”
I palm the back of the couch and lean in to kiss her. “Just you wait. I’ll be twenty minutes, tops. Call me if you need anything?”
“I will,” she says softly, giving the strings of my hoodie a tug. “Thanks for taking care of this. You’ll let me help with your dad, though, right?”
“One thing at a time, sweetheart.”
It’s mild outside, and dark. Walking down the sidewalk, I take a long, deep inhale. The crisp air gives me a welcome hit of clarity. My head’s been buzzing since the condom broke, thoughts leaping from one big, scary thing to the next. Greer possibly being pregnant. Dad’s threat. Telling George. The cupcakes—how good they were and how much Lizzie would’ve loved them.
