Page 33 of Art of Love
He laughed. “There was whipped cream.”
God. I winced, feeling my insides crumble.
“Hunter.”
“Yes, love.” His eyes twinkled with that spark that reached out to me.
Time to get to the point. I should have just come out and asked him this days ago. “Where we careful? I know we were drunk, but can you remember if we were careful?”
“I can assure you I handled you with care.” He took a few steps and stopped just before me.
“That’s not what I mean. Did you use a condom?” Best to spell it out.
“No. But don’t worry. I went to the doctor’s last month, and I’m as clean as a whistle. Before you, I hadn’t had sex in four months.” The corner of his sensual mouth lifted into a slow, easy smile.
I would have taken the time to savor the picture of him if I didn’t seriously start to freak out and have palpitations.
I brought my hand to my mouth and tried to keep the panic in, but it wasn’t working.
“Hey, you look like you’re going to faint.”
“God, I wonder why?”
He had the audacity to laugh. It was that stupid laugh that infuriated me more.
“Yes, God, why?”
“Hunter.” I pulled in a deep breath. “I’m not on birth control.”
A ragged breath escaped my lips.
He pressed his lips together and actually looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be well taken care of when the baby comes. We’ll have to move to England though. I have a nice little cottage in the countryside. Pretty, and great to raise a family.”
“What is the matter with you?”
“Nothing. I’m just doing what’s right. Oh shit, sorry, I forgot the part about asking you to marry me first. Let’s start over. We get married before the baby comes and tell everyone we got pregnant on our honeymoon. Then we move to England and live happily ever after.”
“You asshole.” I punched him as hard as I could in his chest, but I ended up hurting myself because I landed my fist into solid muscle. “Damn it.”
He caught my hands when I lashed out at him again. He was laughing, laughing at me.
“Jia, I’m joking.”
To my surprise, a tear ran down my cheek. Not from what he said; it was all of it. Everything. It was all too much now.
“Joking about what? Because if I’m pregnant and you’re saying you were joking about all that stuff, you’re evil.”
“We didn’t sleep together,” he cut in.
I narrowed my eyes and gave him an intense stare. “What do you mean? You said we did.”
“I was just messing around.”
“What!” I shook my head at him. “What kind of freak are you? Why would you allow me to believe we slept together when we didn’t? Do you know how worried I was?” I couldn’t believe he would do such a thing, and it was all too much. I needed a timeout.
“I’m sorry. I know I should have come clean.”
