Cool? That’s it?
“I’ll be at home for a few weeks working in my mom’s studio with her. She’s helping me polish some tracks before I send them to Dodson.”
Still nothing.
“Yeah, I know, I know. Growth, right?”
No response. Blake pulls several sundresses off the hangers in the closet. Those cute little floral dresses she wore all summer that made my heart pound and got my dick hard.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Freckles.”
She doesn’t answer.
I get up and stride toward her, capturing her hands as she’s rolling up the dresses. Of course she’s a rolling packer. She’s the kind of person who wouldn’t want wrinkles. I disentangle her hands from the fabric.
“Please look at me.”
Her blue eyes shift toward me. Behind the blank mask, I glimpse sorrow.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I say quietly. “The baby?”
Her voice is flat and emotionless. “There was never a baby.”
Agony slices into my chest. “There was. Just because it implanted in the wrong place doesn’t mean there wasn’t a baby. You can talk to me about it.”
Those eyes suddenly pin me in place. “What are you doing?”
I falter. “I’m trying to comfort my girlfriend.”
She sputters out a laugh, which, I’m not going to lie, stings. A lot. I try not to show that it affects me, pasting on an understanding smile because that’s what I need to be right now. Understanding. I need to let the hormone-induced jabs bounce off me because it’s not who Blake is. I know that deep down, she’s kind. She doesn’t laugh when someone is offering comfort.
“I’m not your girlfriend, Wyatt.”
I slowly inhale. Just the hormones.
“Stop trying to act like you’re my boyfriend, okay? We just fucked for the summer.”
Now I can’t help myself. “It was more than sex and you know it.”
“Okay, fine, it was more than sex,” she concedes. “It was a fling, a summer romance, whatever you want to call it. But I’m not your girlfriend, and the only reason you’re calling me that is because we happened to get pregnant.”
“That’s not true,” I object.
“Yes, it is. Before that positive pregnancy test, we both agreed it was going to end when the summer ended. That was the number one rule, remember?”
“We created those rules at the very start. A lot has changed since then.”
“Yeah, I got pregnant.”
“No, it changed before that. I fell in love with you before there was ever a baby.”
She just stares at me. It’s like a knife to the heart.
“And I know you love me too.”
She says nothing, and the knife twists in deeper.
