He exhales sharply, and I feel the tension rolling off him.
“Ben,” I whisper against his mouth, but he doesn’t answer. He just kisses me again, rougher this time. His hand slides down, finding the hem of my crop top, his knuckles brushing against my stomach and tempting me to allow him to do whatever he wants to my body.
Then, he finally pulls back, and his voice is gravelly against my ear when he says, “That’s what happens when you challenge me, princess. But I’ll be your psycho. If you tell me what this is.”
I try to gather my breathing, my pride rearing itself back up again when I whisper, “A mistake.”
“Try again.”
“You forcingme.”
“Is that why you won’t go to Italy? You think I’m going to trap you even more and drag you away from anyone who could help you?”
Not really.
His gaze sharpens then, and a wave of nervousness washes over me. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” he clips out. “I can see it in your eyes. Something happened.”
Oh, something happened alright.
“I just don’t want to go,” I emit evenly. “Period.”
“Because…”
“My grandmother is here.”
“I told you I’d fix that.”
“I don’twantto go.”
“Tell me.”
“Ben—”
“Tellme.”
He’s pissing me off.
“I just told you.”
“You just told me, huh?” He brushes his thumb along my jawline, and I melt for the simple action. “We’ve moved to more secrets.”
I don’t like how he said that.
He’ll know eventually, like when I start showing and doing God knows what.
Maybe if I tell him, he won’t want to stress me out and drop the subject line of this conversation.
“I’m pregnant.”
He blinks once. Twice. Then presses quietly, “You’re what?”
I swallow hard and force out, “Pregnant. I took a test this morning.”
For a moment, he doesn’t move. Then, he exhales unsteadily, pressing a hand to the wall like he needs to ground himself.
