"What is it?" I ask.
He swallows a lump in his throat like he's nervous. “I know this is a very personal question, and you don’t have to answer it, but hear me out. When did you last have your period?”
Oh he’s got to be kidding…
“Maddox. I know we forgot to use one the other night. But it doesn’t happen that quickly.”
“I know that,” he says, though by his tone of voice, I’m honestly not sure. “I’m just saying that we’ve had sex more than once.”
Okay, now he’s truly ridiculous. “Maddox…”
“Gabrielle…”
Shit. He’s not joking. There’s no dimple with his smile. There’s no twinkle in his eyes. Heactuallythinks I’m pregnant.
“I know it’s crazy,” he continues. “All I’m saying is that it’s been a little over a month since Vegas. And the symptoms you're having heavily rival what my sister looked and went through when she found out she was pregnant.”
“How do you know that?”
“She found out when I was home from college,” he says. “And what you’re feeling like, that was her. For weeks. Random nausea. Extremely exhausted. Then boom. Eight-ish months later, I became Uncle Maddox.”
While I'm sure the sight of Uncle Maddox playing with his niece is cute as hell, I can't let my mind go there, because I have to quash this idea he’s having. Because the man is out of his mind.
I’m not pregnant. I can’t be.
“While I can see why you’d think that, I'm not pregnant,” I say definitively. “We used a condom.”
“I know, but it says on the package that they aren’t a hundred-percent effective. Didn’t you see that on that one show? Plus, if anybody's sperm could break free it would be mine.”
I fully roll my eyes, because everything out of his mouth right now is utter insanity.
“Super sperm? You’re telling me you think your sperm can beat the odds?”
“I’ve been beating the odds my entire life. Wouldn’t shock me.”
I can’t with this man. Or this conversation. “Maddox, thank you for the WebMD suggestion, but you don’t have super sperm and I amnotpregnant. My period…”
I trail off, because I have to think back from the last time I had it.
Shit. It was before Vegas. I remember being excited that I didn’t have to pack tampons.
Oh fuck… I missed my period.
I. Missed. My. Fucking. Period.
My eyes double in size and I’m pretty sure I don’t blink for the next five minutes. Am I breathing? Not sure. How did I not realize it? I mean, I guess it makes sense with the insanity of the bakery and my newfound relationship with Maddox. I’ve beenexhausted, but I’ve been putting in crazy hours. Never would I have thought for a second it was anything else. Except…
“You’re late, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I whisper, not wanting to truly say it out loud. I do manage to push myself up from the wall, but I’m a little off-kilter from my episode. I start to stumble, but Maddox is immediately next to me to catch me, his hands really the only thing holding me up at this point.
“I got you,” he says. “And I’m going to be here. For everything.”
I shake my head, because he needs to take about forty-two steps back. “Maddox, you're sweet, and I understand where you could think this, and why the evidence is pointing that way, but I'm not pregnant. It’s just… well it can’t be.”
He gives me a look that we both know that “can’t” might not be the best word right now.
“Can I suggest something that I think will make most of us feel better?”
