Page 105 of Pucked Up Plans
“I believe you. But the rest is still true. My emotions are all over the map between thinking there was a possibility ofgetting pregnant and my period arriving. It doesn’t excuse my behavior.”
“I’d very much still like you to be my girlfriend. If you can stand it,” I tack on.
She retorts sassily, “Only if I can ride the Keeley cockcycle.”
To say I’m shocked is an understatement, but damn if it doesn’t turn me the fuck on. Which isn’t the best place to be right now considering she’s off-limits for a while. It’s so unfortunate since we have the place to ourselves, no kids needing us, all the time…
No. I can’t let my thoughts drift there.
“As long as it’s ultimately protected. I don’t need the added stress of a possible malfunctioning condom.”
“You need to get on birth control.” Not my best comeback for a variety of reasons, especially when she raises her brow. I continue, without screwing things up more. “As a backup protection. Between the two, we should be good. Birth control and condoms. Used in conjunction.”
Great. Now I’m babbling.
“Fair enough. If you’re willing to wrap it up, the least I can do is remember to take a pill every day.”
“That was easier than I thought.”
“Don’t push it and make me change my mind.”
I heed her advice and shut up, her narrowed stare even more of a deterrent.
“How about dinner at my house on Sunday with the girls? Maybe if we’re really lucky, Mom will let us escape for an hour to Target. Hell, the grocery store.”
“Shouldn’t you check with your mom first before inviting us?”
“Nope. ‘The more the merrier’ she’ll say.”
She laughs at my lousy impression of Millie Keeley.
“Let me just check with Aunt Marsha since we usually go there for dinner on Sundays. But we’ve been there a lot this week, so she may be sick of us.”
I shrug. “Lunch works too. Hell, how about breakfast? Come for some meal on Sunday.”
“Sheesh. Okay. You don’t have to beg. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it?” She rolls her eyes at my wink.
We sit in the kitchen a little longer, sharing our favorite Thanksgiving weekend traditions before we turn in for the night.
I change into flannel PJs and a hockey T-shirt before climbing into bed. Dressed in the T-shirt I wore earlier and PJ pants, she makes it very clear which side I’m to sleep on. It does little to discourage my cock from thinking it’s time to play.
Damn period.
CHAPTER 24
WALSH
Cuddling Tate all night long changes something between us. I can’t put my finger on what exactly, but there’s a distinct glow about her this morning, a renewed energy radiating off her. I’m not stupid enough to ask. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.
She cooks pancakes for breakfast—a triple batch with some “to freeze for the week.” I wish I had an ounce of her organization and productive nature. After I clean up breakfast—loading the dishwasher how she likes—we curl up on the couch to finish the movie we started weeks ago before I have to leave.
As much as I’ll see her around, a part of me doesn’t want to leave. The last twenty-four hours have been overcharged with emotions, for both of us. I’m glad we worked through it all to end up here: Tate as my girlfriend. Even thinking those words has my heart beating faster. I should pinch myself to confirm I’m not dreaming.
The movie ends, and it’s time to say goodbye. Tate’s wrapped in my arms. It’s coming to be my favorite place for her. Too bad it’s only when we’re alone.
“I’ll text you later to let you know what time to come for breakfast.”
