"Enzo, no. I just...I just don't drink milk or eat dairy that much. Or I didn't until I got here."
"Well, that's going to make our late-night hot chocolate and cheese on toast parties difficult."
This time, I laugh. "We don't have those."
"We could start." He puts his wrist to my forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever."
"I told you?—"
He frowns. "I know what you told me, but I think you should see a doctor."
Oh, thank God.
"Okay. I'll make an appointment for this week."
The guilt ripples through me, shredding me, but apart from some symptoms and an over-the-counter test, I don't know if I'm pregnant for sure. It could be all phantom, after all. Right?
But the guilt won't let go.
He needs to know if I am because that's only fair.
But what does that mean for me?
It might force him to be my future instead of us finding out together.
Or what if we're not meant to be and this melds us together?
My emotions roil up.
And I want to cry for absolutely no reason at all.
I swallow. "Are you going into the office?"
He sighs. "Yeah. After I change my suit. It's a little chocolaty."
I can smell the grease of the cheese and the mix of milk and chocolate, and it makes my stomach churn again.
I throw off the covers and get up.
Enzo eyes me critically. "You do know I just put you there."
"Can I go to your room with you?"
A bright expression comes over his face as he smiles. "Anytime. You don't have to ask."
I take a step, but he swings me up in his arms and carries me from one end of the floor to the other, depositing me onhis haphazardly made bed. At least the rest of the room's clean.
He opens the doors to the terrace to let in the fresh, crisp morning air and the sounds of Brooklyn starting the day.
I sit there, watching as he strips down to his boxer briefs, and even through the turmoil inside, I salivate a bit at the sight of his perfect physique. The fluid way his muscles move under his skin.
I study the tattoo that bands his arm.
He picks out a suit and starts to dress. "I'll have the cleaner come early today to take care of the mess in your room."
"Temporary room" is on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it down.
I sleep in here enough now, if you can call what we've been doing sleeping.
