“Your new plan. The kid you’re growing. You, in general.”
I blush immediately.
Bo notices, then glances away, his jaw working as his eyes narrow on the road ahead.
At the exact moment I ask, “Should we talk about last night?” Bo says, “I’m sorry for last night.”
“It’s all good,” I say with full confidence. “Tensions are going to run a little high, given the circumstances. I think we’re doing a great job and should probably expect there to be some… awkwardness. We’ll keep focusing on getting to know one another as friends.”
“Still, I should have never said—”
“I think I’d feel better if we just pretended you… didn’t.”
“Okay,” he says, nodding, his hands tightening around the wheel. “Is it cool if I just apologise one more time?” He winces, turning toward me briefly with a sweet shyness in his eyes.
“One last time,” I say.
“I’m sorry,” he says compulsively, as if he’s been holding it back for far longer than a few seconds. “From now on, we will pretend the baby was an immaculate conception, and you’ll be my sexless pal Fred, if that’s what you want.”
I hear a high pitch ringing in my ear. The sound of my libidoscreamingfor mercy, if I’m not mistaken. “That’s probably for the best.” Bo changes gears between us, and the back of his knuckles brush the side of my thigh accidentally. Still, I can’t help but grind my teeth as I look out the window.
“Want to bust out a question before we get to the restaurant?” he asks, reaching into the inside lining of his jacket and pulling the deck of cards out of the inner pocket. He holds them out to me, his eyes flicking between the road ahead and my face.
“Sure,” I say, taking the cards.
CHAPTER 21
Theuniverseislaughingat us.
“Hey, I saw that,” Bo says, his face twisting between me and the car in front of us. “No switching cards. What did it say?”
“Trust me,” I say, dropping the deck to my lap.
“We’re going to do them all eventually, right?”
“Yeah but—”
“No card-switching,” he says, signalling as he changes lanes. “New rule.”
“Fine.” I take the card back from the bottom of the deck and turn it over, holding it against my bouncing knee. “What has been your most significant sexual experience? What did it teach you?”
Bo doesn’t laugh, though I can tell he’d like to. “Good Q…” he says dryly.
“Solid. Not at all what we’re trying to avoid.”
“Perfect timing, really.”
“I can take this one,” I say, flicking the corner of the card against my knee repeatedly. The quicker we answer that, the quicker we can move past it. And hopefully get somewhere for food. “I mean… there’s nothingquiteas significant as the time I got pregnant,” I joke weakly.
What I don’t say is that I’d also never experienced sex likethat. The intimacy shared with someone I hardly knew. How much trust I had in him, despite that unfamiliarity. The moment he kissed my hand plays on my mind far more often than I’d care to admit. How desirable it made me feel. That he wanted me not despite my differences but, equally, for them.But I can’t say that; it’s far too intimate. Far too true.
“And I learned to take my birth control on time, that’s for sure,” I add.
“Would you?” Bo asks, his attention facing forward.
“Would I what?”
“If you could go back, would you have taken your birth control on time? Prevented this?” He asks it with zero judgement, his tone genuinely curious.
