Page 66 of Sebastian

I supply her with more tissues.

“I know you went all momma bear because you care about me. I get it, and I appreciate it.” She smiles, a look of relief on her face, as if divulging her secret, only briefly, helps clear her thoughts. “But you do need to tell Paolo how you feel.”

“Sounds as if we both have things to figure out.”

She stands, straightens her suit, and hunts for my trash can. I lift it from underneath my desk for her to throw her used tissues in.

“We do, but I’m glad we have each other. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I stand, itching to hug her, when someone taps on the glass to get her attention. “And maybe I’ll text Sebastian my doctor’s number. It can’t hurt, right?”

A broad smile breaks across her face as if we are not conspiring together. And maybe we are.

“Only if you want to. My meddling days are over now.”

She heads out the door, joining the guy as they walk away with a stack of papers.

“Yeah, I want to, alright.”

I snatch up my phone to scroll through my contacts and look for my doctor’s name to share with Sebastian.

“Here goes nothing.”

17

SEBASTIAN

Isit in the parking lot of Chloe’s apartment building. Lost, scared, unsure of what to do or where to go. Instead, I replay the events from last night in my mind.

I decide notto go back to the party. I don’t look for Chloe. I don’t even bother saying goodbye to Paolo and Taylor after grabbing the bag from them and stomping upstairs, mostly wasted. What I do is grab a bottled water from the theater room fridge, then shove it and the bag in Veronica’s face while she lies naked across my bed. She gets pissed at that. I don’t give a damn.

I am not going to fuck her on the very bed I had had Chloe two days before. Hell, I wasn’t going to fuck her ever again. Not unless I pass out and she rapes me. Not putting anything past her, I stop drinking after she prances naked into my bathroom while I sit in the armchair by the shower, holding my head in my hands.

One by one, she rips open the boxes, pees, and passes the sticks through the crack in the door. I lay them on the counter. The very same counter I ate Chloe out on. Chloe’s imprint is so fresh on everything in these two rooms it is fucking with my ability to believe what is happening now. I’d easily grab another double from the liquor cabinet if I weren’t worried about getting trashed and repeating Cabo.

I’m so fucked.

I read the boxes cover to cover, and it all said the same thing—wait. As she finishes the last test and gets dressed, I stare at the tiny little windows that determine the rest of my life. Her hand slithers up my back as I hunch over the three tests, waiting for the magic symbol to seal my fate.I cringe, shake her hand off, and move away.

“How’s it going to work if I’m pregnant? I’d want you to be a very involved father.” She fixes her hair in the mirror when our eyes connect. “What? You, of all people, should understand that a child needs both parents.”

My fingers clench the countertop. I’m convinced I could break the stone with the rage surging through me. I walk away from her and those fucking sticks to stare at the ceiling. What am I going to do if I’m tied to her for the next eighteen years?

“We’ll figure it out.”

I keep saying that, but I haven’t figured jack shit out. I only know I don’t want a kid and would never want one with her. Fuck. I’m screwed. She continues blabbering about living arrangements and building a nursery here, having to baby-proof the house, adding fences around the pools, and hosting a couples reveal party under the pavilion—all things I can’t even think about right now.

I don’t know the first thing about kids. Sure, I dressed as Santa Claus on Saturday and talked to them, but they ran back totheir parents at the end of the carpet, and I returned to chasing tail. Chloe’s tail, to be specific.

And now that’s . . . over, I assume. Can I blame her? Hell no. Why would she want to date with all the shit that just dropped on me? If the roles were reversed, would I?

Hell no.

Regret and self-loathing creep in as I think about my carefree and reckless sex habits. The looming threat of parenthood makes me sick to my stomach, and the temperature in the room gets hotter.

When Veronica lets out a loud shriek, I turn around and see her jumping in the air, crying and laughing at the same time. She’s holding a stick in her hand, her eyes sparkling with pure happiness. Her joy is a punch to my gut. I clutch my chest, feeling an acute, stabbing pain.

I can’t catch my breath. My heart’s racing, throbbing in my head when she picks up another and another, confirming what I don’t want. I stumble backward, desperately trying to stay upright, as the world spins around me.

My lungs clench, squeezing the air from them as overwhelming anxiety takes over. When she runs up to me, shoving the sticks so close to my face that I can’t even see the windows, I grab them and throw them across the room before running out.

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