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He reaches for me, but I step back out of his grasp. His jaw ticks, but he doesn’t push me.
“We’ll get a pill,” he murmurs, carefully lifting his hand to brush away a tear on my cheek. Though he’s trying to comfortme, there’s a distance that wasn’t there before. An icy coldness that fills my veins from the way he looks at me.
Like it was a mistake.
Whore.
Mortification coils through me and I stumble to the bathroom, refusing to look at him again.
Once the door is shut, I lean back against it, letting the tears quietly fall.
I’m an idiot. A liar. A girl with baggage. I can’t blame him for regretting what happened any more than I blame myself.
I always knew something would send this whole thing crashing to the ground.
I just didn’t think I’d care this much.
Mason
I’m a fucking idiot.
I know it. Hannah knows it. The fucking teenage clerk at the local drugstore knows it, judging by the grimace on her face when she rings up my shittyPlan Bpill.
I shouldn’t have fucked her. I definitely shouldn’t have slid inside her bare. In the moment, though, when she was begging for my cock, I really didn’t give a shit.
I still wouldn’t. And that’s a dangerous fucking thing.
I can still feel her fingers in my hair. Hear her moans echoing in my ear while I was buried inside her. From the scratches on my back to the taste of her on my tongue, she’s engrained in me.
I fucking hate it.
Her crying at the thought of the two of us being tied together solidified it. She couldn’t have made it any more clear that the thought of having a kid with me horrified her.
Those tears burned like acid in my chest when I watched them roll down her cheeks.
Still . . . I know she’s too fucking good for me. She always has been and maybe that’s why I crave her so much. Like an invasive species, I want to take her. Make her mine. No matter what she’s done, it pales in comparison to the terrible shit I have. The people I’ve let down. She’s a fucking saint where I’m concerned and touching her is like an act of defiance toward God.
If you believe in that shit.
I’ve never been religious, but watching her come for me, hearing her cry out my name like it’s a Hail Mary? That’s the closest I’ve ever felt to fucking heaven.
She was so fucking beautiful riding my cock . . . and now, she hates me.
The clerk finishes ringing me up and I take my bag, not bothering to mumble my thanks. She won’t hear me over the headphone jammed in her ear, anyway.
I make my way home in silence, taking my time because I just don’t have it in me to pretend I’m not still fucking reeling.
I’ve always been in this deeper than her. I’ve come to accept it. Where she can move on and forget about me, I wouldn’t be able to breathe in a world without her in it.
Isn’t that fucking poetic?
My hands shake as I drive. Jesus Christ. You’d think I just lost my fucking virginity.
I laugh bitterly in the silence of the cab. I was a dumbass to think she’d react differently. She’s still holding onto that hopethat life is just going to magically be what she wants it to be tomorrow, when in reality, it’s ugly, cruel, and demeaning.
I’m not an idiot. I know a pregnancy with everything going on right now would be the worst thing either one of us could do.
Even so, the sick and twisted part of me didn’t care about coming inside her. Knocking her up would finally put an end to this. I’d marry her in a fucking heartbeat and finally give her a reason to stick around. To think of me as more than just the asshole helping her find her sister.
