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He lets out another heavy sigh, this one sounding a little disgruntled. He rubs at the back of his neck as he turns away. “Fuck.”
When he turns back toward me, there’s something like disappointment in his eyes, and I hate it.
“Look, I’m not asking you to do anything,” I say. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Yeah,” he mutters to himself. “I appreciate you telling me.”
Suddenly, I wish he’d touch me again. Hold me. Kiss me. Anything to be back in his good graces and turn around this dreary mood we’re both in.
I find myself reaching for him. “We can still…”
My flirtatious smile barely changes his expression at all. He still leans in and kisses me on the cheek. But that’s it.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he replies.
My hands slide up his biceps. “Why not? It’s not like you can get me more pregnant.” I laugh, but he doesn’t join in.
“I should probably go,” he says.
Fuck. I messed this up. Me and my stupid ovaries fucked up everything.
“Okay,” I say reluctantly.
“But let me know what you decide, and I’m serious; I’ll pay for everything. You know, if you do decide to…”
“Yep. Got it,” I reply.
As he opens the door, I feel such a sense of defeat. This was awful, but did I really expect anything different? Was there any chance of this conversation going well?
No. Because, deep down, I think I knew what I was going to say even before the words came out of my mouth.
I think I want to keep the baby.
Eight
Lucas
Grading papers can be a mind-numbing activity. Hence why I prenumb myself with two to three glasses of Macallan 18 before getting started.
It’s a pathetic way to spend a Friday night, but until something more stimulating comes along, this is my life.
After the third glass, I consider calling someone to stave off the loneliness. There’s a beautiful ethics professor that has flirted with me once or twice and probably isn’t opposed to booty calls. Maybe I should text her.
There’s some light jazz playing in the living room as I pick up my phone and scroll for Dr. Laura Hanson’s phone number.
God, when was the last time I got laid? It’s been too long. No wonder I’ve been so tense lately.
As I find Laura’s number, I pause, hovering my thumb over the button to call her. Suddenly, I’m thinking about my visit to Sadie’s house this morning, and the corner of my mouth lifts in a smirk.
I’ve never once considered myself a Dom or kinky at all. I wouldn’t dare ask a woman to do anything like that, but it does make me wonder…
With the right partner, it might be fun.
I wonder if Laura would submit to me. Would she crawl on the floor for me? Let me control her?
I doubt it. And she wouldn’t argue back either. Not in a defiantly hot and bratty way.
And this is how I know I’m drunk. Because suddenly, I’m imagining one of my students and that smart mouth of hers. The way Sadie argues with me sets my body on fire. Almost like she wants to be punished.
