Page 148 of The Persistence of Thornes
She goes rigid in my arms, but she doesn’t try to escape me like I thought she would. “I’m not pregnant.”
“You could be.” I push her wet hair back, my dress shirt clinging to my skin. “We haven’t been careful every time.”
“I take birth control,” she argues. “Never miss a pill.”
“People get pregnant on the pill. Shit happens. Just take one.”
She pulls back, her eyes tearing up in earnest now, the droplets mixing with the water clinging to her lashes. “I love you, but I don’t want to be pregnant. I’m not ready now.”
“I know, baby.” I cuff her neck gently, massaging with my fingertips. Truth be told, as much as I want more kids, I’m not ready for a baby right now either. Selfishly I want more time with Halle first. Even if we’ve already got the boys and Seda. “I still think you should take a test.”
“Fine,” she grumbles. “But I probably don’t have enough liquid left in me to pee.”
That pulls a chuckle from me. “In the morning, then.”
“Okay.” She heaves a sigh and burrows into me again. We stay like that for another minute or two before she says, “I think I can keep it together if you’re willing to help me wash up.”
I stand, then ease her to the tile seat, wishing I could turn up the temperature when she shivers. Once I’ve removed her shirt, I step out of the shower long enough to grab a washcloth. I add my soap to the cloth, then glide it gently over her body.
Eyes closed, she lays her head back. This moment, despite how bad she feels, is one I’ll treasure forever. For the first time, she’s giving me her complete trust. This privilege, to care for her when she’s her most vulnerable, is far more precious and intimate than sex.
I wash her hair quickly, and while I’m working the conditioner in, she goes peaked. Stomach sinking, I lean out of the shower and snag the bathroom trashcan.
But, stubborn as ever, she holds it together. She’s stoic as I turn off the water and dry her off, and she’s breathing deeply as I drag another of my shirts over her head.
“I need to brush my hair,” she mumbles. “Or else it will tangle.”
“I’ll brush it for you.”
I close the toilet lid and point for her to sit. “I’ll get your brush.”
Quickly, I dart into her bathroom to get it. When I return, she’s gripping the trashcan.
“Did you get sick?” I ask.
“No, but my stomach started lurching again.”
“Mmm. If you need to, I’m here to help.” I divide her hair into sections and begin combing it out.
“How are you so good at this?” she asks as I finish the first section.
I pause, hand held in the air, on the verge of laughter. “How do you think?”
“Oh, yeah,” she breathes, slumping. “You have a daughter.” I’m almost finished with the last section of hair when she speaks again. “She came home crying yesterday. She saw Quinn kissing a girl.”
My heart pangs. Though I hate the obsession she has with the boys, I hate the idea of my little girl being upset. “She was heartbroken?”
“Unbelievably. Hopefully her next crush will be someone her age.”
I grunt, jaw clenched. “I hope she never has another crush.”
“Unlikely.”
“I know.” I lean over her, setting her brush down. As I move, I’m hit with a cool shot of air, and I shiver.
Halle peeks over her shoulder, frowning at my wet clothes. “You need to change, or you’ll be sick too.”
I pick up her towel and scrunch her hair, sure to get the excess moisture from it. “I’m okay.”
