Page 115 of Líadan's Code

Líadan swishes some water around in her mouth before spitting it out in the sink. Once she’s done, I turn to run the water in the shower.

“So this is the first time?” I ask, walking her in with my boxers on.

“I thought I was just doing too much,” she rasps as she shivers. The water is quickly turning to warm, but I didn’t wait long enough. Rubbing my hands over her arms, I nod for her to continue.

“I got dizzy while I was enjoying my birthday present and then again at Daddy’s viewing.”

My lips twitch as I pour some shampoo into my hand, motioning for her to get her hair under the shower.

“So you did enjoy it,” I murmur. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting the photos I got that day.”

“Oops?” she asks, moving her hair out of the spray of water so I can shampoo her hair.

Líadan’s still pale as I massage her scalp, and I can see Brendan keeping busy as he scrubs the toilet. I also notice that he’s texting someone, which means the doctor is probably on his way.

While she may be irritated by that later, it makes me feel relieved.

“Mhmm,” I tease her. “Calculated texting is not an ‘oops’, Princess. Have you felt tired lately too?”

“Yes,” she moans as her body relaxes under my fingers. “Long days, shitty sleep is what I’m tossing it under.”

“I don’t know,” I say, rinsing out her hair. “Can I ask you kind of a prying question?”

“Okay,” she says, drawing out the word as I hand her some conditioner to continue washing her hair, so I can gently scrub her body.

Maybe being on my knees as I rub the soap over her skin isn’t the best idea for this. My back is healing very well after all of the glass, but I’m going to need more of my cream as the muscles pull.

Wincing as I watch the soap slide down her perfect breasts, and I continue down her stomach, I wonder if this is the way I die: being kicked in the head by my girlfriend.

“Jor?” she asks, brow raised as she finishes working the conditioner through her hair. “Did you lose consciousness while between my legs?”

Barking out a laugh at her sassiness, I raise her leg onto my shoulder as I work the soap up her body with intention. The little clit piercing winks at me, daring me to kiss it, so I do. I never was very good at walking away from a dare.

Her little gasp is worth it as I put her leg down as if I meant to lift it to wash her better, finally standing.

As the water trails down her body, washing her off, I bite my lip, worrying at it. Fuck it, I’m asking.

“When was your last period?” I ask, waiting for her to hit me. I know what she told me, okay? I just don’t know why else she’d be puking her guts out and practically fainting.

“Ah…” Líadan thinks, and my heart starts to pound. She’s not upset, but she can’t remember right away.

“A month and a half ago,” Brendan says, leaning against the sink. “She’s never been very regular, though.”

“Would you be open to taking a test just to clear this as a possibility?” I ask. I’m very logical as I speak, even though my heart is racing.

“Jordan, I told you…” Líadan’s eyes fill with tears as I nod, pulling her into my arms.

“I know, baby. You absolutely did. I wouldn’t suggest it if all the symptoms didn’t match up with the possibility,” I say soothingly. “The exhaustion, the nausea, the dizziness. If we go to the hospital, they’ll ask you to take one.”

A shuddering sob meets my words, making me feel like an ass. Fuck me.

“Lía, Dr. Kurtz is on his way,” Brendan says as I shut off the water. She’s as clean as she possibly can be by this point. He has a towel in his hands, ready for Líadan as she steps out of the shower. “Will you take the test if he recommends it?”

“Knowing him, I won’t have much of a choice,” she grumbles as she dries off her skin. Brendan hides a smirk from her as he hands me another towel, following her into the room.

They picked up clothing from their hotel, agreeing to come stay the night. I don’t think I want to spend another day apart, much less a night. I’m definitely going to negotiate that they come stay with me indefinitely. This place is as secluded as you can get in Chicago, and it’s quiet.

Pulling off my boxers, the wet material makes me groan uncomfortably. I hate the feeling of wet clothing against my skin. Drying off quickly, I walk into the room, throwing everything into the hamper.

---