Page 88 of Not Mine to Rescue

“Lemon…”

“No, you need to grab your balls and man up, asshole. Ask her first. Talk. Listen to her, damn it.”

My neck hurt. I squeezed it to stop the headache building there. “I have been listening. Not only to her words, but the whole thing. Do you know she won’t even let me call her ‘babe’ because it’s such a sore subject? The first night we were together was the night her ex’s kid was born. And, when he brought the baby to the office, she broke again. And I was there picking up the pieces. This is a non-negotiable for her. It isn’t something that I can just wave my magic dick at and make better.”

“Ew!”

Did I blame her for being disgusted with me? No. I was pretty disgusted with myself.

“I’m going to call her. Will that make you happy?”

She frowned. Then acquiesced. “I’ll be here, keeping your spot warm.” Then she shifted to hold DA’s head, so he’d see her when he opened his eyes.

I stood outside in the cold, rehearsing what I was going to say. Nothing sounded right.

But I dialed anyway.

“Hi, how’s DA?”

Right. I’d told her where I was going. “He’s hooked up to hemodialysis. They’re flushing his system, but they’re pretty sure they caught it in time.”

“Oh my god, that’s a relief. I feel so bad for you.”

Hang onto that thought…babe. “Thanks. Um… something happened.”

“With DA?”

“No…” Grab your balls and man up. “The condom broke.”

There was barely a beat of silence, and then she said. “Oh. I can’t be pregnant.”

Like it was a done deal. “Are you on the pill or something?”

Her tone shifted to sarcasm. “No. I can’t stay pregnant. You know that. Don’t worry.”

There was a hitch in her voice. Now I worried more. “I can pick up a Plan B and drop it off. Just to be safe, right?”

“Wombat. You don’t need to do that. Stay there, take care of your dog. It’s okay. Really.”

No, it wasn’t. Nothing was okay.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Honoria

The suitcase of guilt I carried was only surpassed in size by the super-sized steamer trunk of denial I dragged with me every day since DA’s hospitalization. In the aftermath, I’d done my best to hide. I’d take extra time in the morning getting ready to cut the drop-offs short.

The trouble was, I didn’t need to do that. Wombat barely had time to greet me in the morning when I dropped off Molly. There were circles under his eyes. And in the evenings, he usually was with the club or picking up another rescue. Which meant I couldn’t talk to him even if I wanted to.

Did I want to? A part of me was screaming for just that. But that part was really small. The rest of me was much stronger and more stubborn.

DA was getting better, but between his health issues, the numerous drop offs and rescues, neither Wombat or his sister had much time for anything but survival.

It wasn’t a good time to talk.

That’s what I told myself. It could wait. I shouldn’t worry him unnecessarily. It would all be gone in a month, three…

Five.