Definitely don’t need to fall into Beck’s charms and talk to him about it more. Not that I’m any good at that anyway—clearly.
“I like that your sister calls you Jennie.” Beck leans back resting an elbow on the back of the couch. “But I have to say, y’all don’t look anything alike.”
Not the first time I’ve heard that, and it won’t be the last, I’m sure. Stella’s face is full of freckles and has bright blonde hair that she just added lavender highlights to. “Well, she is my adopted sister.”
“No shit, really?” Beck asks in an amazed tone that has me chuckling. He turns his head up to the ceiling. “You know, if I wanted kids, I’d adopt.”
My heart pounds in my chest because that is exactly what I want. I don’t want to be pregnant, my tokophobia has had me reeling on this since I can remember.
Beck laughs again. “I mean, really, that’s my only option since I’ve had a vasectomy.”
Holy shit. Holy shit.
“You’ve had a what?”
Heart beating louder. Heart might burst out of my chest.
He turns to me with a curious look. “A vasectomy. You know…” He closes his fingers together like scissors, and that dies down the heartbeat a bit.
“I know what a vasectomy is, Beckham. I’m shocked to learn you’ve had one. Can’t say I ever expected to hear you say that.”
He shrugs. “I guess it’s not something I’ve ever really talked about before. No regrets on my end.”
My mouth opens then shuts. I don’t know what to say. My brain is absolutely reeling. Beck doesn’t want kids? Or, well, would adopt if he did…
“But you always seem so into kids. Miles adores you, and you’re so good with him.”
Beck gives me his signature smile. “I knew you liked watching me, Jennie.”
I kick his shoulder for the third time.
“So aggressive.” He fakes a pout, then smiles again. “I love Miles, and I love the idea of kids. I have other reasons, but kids aren’t a guarantee I see in my future. If that changes, then there are other options.”
The silence sits between us while I fully let what he’s said sink in. Holy shit. He doesn’t want to have kids. He can’t have kids actually. I could sleep with him and have zero fear of getting pregnant.
Something about that revelation does something to me. I spent years trying to explain my fear of pregnancy to my ex. I don’t think there has ever been a time I’ve truly enjoyed sex because of that fear looming over my head.
“I have tokophobia,” I say to him more confidently than I’ve ever said to anyone. “An extreme fear of childbirth. Stella was actually my best friend growing up. Our moms were best friends, the whole nine yards.”
The look on Beck’s face nearly has me stopping there but I want to talk to him. I don’t know what he’s done to me, but every time I’m around him, he brings out something new that I just can’t help it.
“We were nine when her mom had a surprise pregnancy. I remember all of it.” I swallow down the lump quickly forming in my throat. “Um, neither of them made it through childbirth.”
Beck sighs. “Jen?—”
I just want to get it all out, so I continue. “The fear started after that, and I know it seems like I had some separation to the situation, but with everything Stella went through… Her dad couldn’t cope with the trauma—it was bad, so the fear really solidified with the aftermath.”
I prep myself to hear all the sympathies and rationalities that I’ve been met with before, but again, Beck surprises me.
“I got my vasectomy a year after the doctor told us that there’s a chance I could have early-onset too.”
“Really?” I try to keep the question more inquisitive than judgmental. I don’t need him to rationalize with me and I’m sure he feels the same.
“Yeah.” Beck pats the couch for Dottie to hop back up. He pets her slowly and deep inside something tells me he’s never told anyone this before. “I’ve been told there’s never a guarantee. I’ve been lectured on all the things to do that could help prevent it. I’ve been to therapy for it, but at the end of the day there is no guarantee, so I made one for myself. If it’s genetics, then I can control my future ones. I don’t need a kid to have my DNA to love it any differently.”
Oh my lord, this freaking man. I relate to so much of what he just said. All the therapy sessions helped me have the tools to cope with the fear—for example, with Lucie—but I also heard countless statistics about women who were fine giving birth. I was told to just get over it by my ex and for a while I tried.
But then here comes Beck Daines with the emotional intelligence of my three-degree holding therapist. I feel seen for the first time and that wasn’t even his intention. This is not good. I’m so screwed.
