Page 84 of Adoring Delaney

“Again, so?”

“No, Carter, I can get pregnant. We’ve been having unprotected sex for days and my period is due in ten days.”

“And?”

“Did you not pay attention in sex ed? Did no one ever tell you about a woman’s cycle and when they ovulate? I could be pregnant.”

“Babe, I see you’re freaked out, but I’m not sure why.”

Was he crazy? Why wasn’t he freaking out? I was certainly getting ready to hyperventilate. We couldn’t have a baby. Not right now. Not when we were still rocky. And what if something happened again? What if I lost another baby?

No. I didn’t want another baby. Not now. Not like this. Maybe not ever again.

“We’re not married,” I said in a lame attempt to hide what was truly bothering me.

“We will be soon.”

“What?” I shrieked.

“Yeah, Laney baby, soon we’ll be married. So I don’t see what the big deal is if you get pregnant now or in a few months from now.”

Months, months, now I knew he was nuts.

“So, you’re telling me we’re getting married. You’re not gonna ask me, you just assume my answer is yes.”

“Delaney, will you marry me?”

My body went solid and my breath fled. Words I’d waited so long to hear lingered around me and I was pissed.

“No.”

“No?”

“Yeah, Carter. No.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Well, for starters, as I’d mentioned, I waited for what had felt like my entire life to hear him ask me that question, and I damn well wasn’t going to accept his proposal when it was an off-the-cuff question when we were sitting in bed after I’d just talked to his parents, brother, and sister-in-law about us losing our baby. After I’d told him about a woman he’d been warning me about and me admitting he could be right about her being a few cookies short of a dozen. But most especially not after I’d told him I could be pregnant and I didn’t know how I felt about that.

But I didn’t tell him any of that. Instead I said, “I’m not ready.”

“Not ready? Baby, what’s really wrong?”

You know the best and worst part of being in love with your best friend? They know you. Well and good. Inside and out. Which brought me to the second best and worst part—they’d call you on your bullshit. That coming from one of your girls—great. They wouldn’t let you try and blow sunshine and get to the bottom of whatever ailed you. It coming from the man you were trying to keep a secret from—not great.

Annoying was more like it.

“Let’s just go to bed.” I handed him my phone and he haphazardly tossed it back on the nightstand and I bit back my irritation for his rough handling of an electronic device that cost more than my damn TV.

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

We went into a stare down. I was good at them, I’d had a lot of practice over the years but so had Carter. After a few minutes I broke the silence, proving he was better. Maybe not better, because I was known as the master, perhaps I’d given in because I was tired of holding back. Tired of keeping everything bottled up. It was exhausting keeping secrets.

“I’m not sure how I feel at the possibility I could be pregnant,” I whispered, loathing myself for admitting it.

“Baby.”

“I don’t know if I want kids.”

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