“Luc,” I say soothingly. “Calm down and just listen for a moment. There is no need to freak out.” He snorts at my statement, and I feel the urge to do something Rose-like and flip him off, but that wouldn’t go over well in his present mood. “When Dr. Kay was reviewing my medical records this morning she noticed that I’m on birth control pills. It hit me when she mentioned it that I hadn’t taken the pills while I was in the hospital.”
“We weren’t exactly having sex in the hospital, Lia,” he says condescendingly. My foot twitches as I hold myself back from throwing something at him. He is always so gentle and considerate with me that I find it hard to believe the person vibrating with tension mere steps away is my Lucian. Quite obviously, pregnancy is a trigger for him…a big one.
“I know that,” I snap back, unable to hold my temper. I bluntly finish what I had been trying to say when he rudely interrupted me. “We have had sex for four days, and I haven’t taken my birth control pills since the day of my attack.” I watch him in alarm as he turns completely white, weaving on his feet unsteadily. I rush to add, “Dr. Kay said she can give me a prescription for a morning-after pill which is actually effective for up to five days. It would keep a pregnancy from happening.”
If I thought my words would comfort him, then I’m dead wrong. “What!” he roars. “You want to terminate the pregnancy?”
I jump to my feet, placing my hands on his heaving chest. “Luc, there is no pregnancy yet, and it’s quite possible there wouldn’t be even without the pill. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize I’d missed my pills, and I promise you that it was an accident.” I don’t know why I feel the need to assure him of that, but he’s so upset that I’m just trying to calm him down.
He steps back, causing my hands to drop to my sides. “I’ve got to get out of here for a while,” he says over his shoulder as he walks toward the door at a fast clip. My jaw drops in shock as he leaves the apartment as if the hounds of Hell are nipping at his heels. I sag weakly to the couch, trying to figure out what just happened. I knew he would probably be upset, but this was more than that; he went all to pieces. Oh, God, what if he has an accident? I get back to my feet and start pacing the floor. I run to the entryway table and grab my cellphone from my purse. I call his number, but it goes to voicemail after a few rings. My texts to him go unanswered, as well. Another few minutes pass before I look through my contacts and click on Sam’s name. He’s the only person I know other than Aidan who might be able to help me.
Chapter Eleven
Lucian
“Fuck!” I growl, as I realize I slammed out of the apartment without the keys to any of my vehicles. I can’t go back in and see Lia yet, though; I just can’t. With no other choice, I set off on foot and walk a couple of blocks until I come to the sports bar at the end of the block. Apparently, it’s ladies’ night, so there is a crowd of hopeful women and horny men hanging all over them. I find a quiet spot in the corner of the bar.
The bartender, an attractive woman about Lia’s age wearing a T-shirt pulled tight across her big tits, puts a napkin down in front of me and gives an appreciative smack of her red lips. She’s not hiding the fact that she likes what she sees, but I couldn’t give a good fuck. “Hey, sugar, what can I do for you tonight?” I don’t miss the double entendre in her voice, but I ignore it.
“Bourbon, neat and make it a double. Actually, just bring me the bottle and a glass.” Fuck trying to wait on her to come back once she gets busy.
She smirks, shaking her head. “Sugar, that’s expensive. How about we just go glass by glass for now?” I wordlessly pull out my wallet and throw my black American Express Card on the bar. Her eyes widen as she picks it up. She’s obviously been around enough to know that a black credit card usually means money and a lot of it. “You got it, sugar,” she says, turning away with an extra sway in her hips to get the bottle. Her tiny shorts display an award-winning ass, but I’m not interested. She sets the bottle and the glass down before pouring a generous measure. “What else can I get you?” she asks, leaning against the bar. I can plainly see her skimpy bra as the V-neck of her T-shirt gapes open. I’m sure she’s an expert at that move and I look away, not even vaguely tempted to take her up on her silent offer. Finally, she gets the message and moves away, thank fuck.
I’m three glasses in when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I jerk around in surprise to see Sam standing there. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me at all, so I know this isn’t an accidental meeting. He points to the bottle in front of me, asking, “Think you can get me another glass?” Instead of shouting for the eager bartender, I stretch across the bar and manage to hook a glass from under the cabinet. “Impressive,” Sam smirks as he pours a small amount into his glass.
“Why are you here?” I ask bluntly. I’m in no mood for company and just wish he’d leave.
“Lia called me. She was worried about you. She had already checked to see if you took your car keys so I knew you were on foot.” Pointing toward the front of the bar, he adds, “Since there are nothing but restaurants and stores here, I took a wild guess you’d be in the first bar you happened along.”
I’m surprised Lia called him but as I think back, I realize she and I have never really had a fight. We’ve had disagreements, like most people, but I can’t recall either of us slamming out of the apartment. Even as upset as I am, I feel guilty. She’s been through so much, and I know she doesn’t need this added stress on top of everything else. While there are plenty of men who might panic at the thought of an unplanned pregnancy, she has no idea that it’s my biggest trigger. I take another drink of my bourbon before saying, “I’m fine, Sam. You can go on home. I won’t be here much longer.”
I can literally see him settling onto his barstool. “I don’t have anywhere else to be, so I’ll just keep you company.” At least ten minutes pass as I continue to drink and brood while he pretends to watch the football game on the bar television.
I surprise myself when I blurt out, “Lia might be pregnant.” I see him freeze in the act of lifting his glass just for a split second before he resumes the movement.
“I see.” He doesn’t say anything else as if waiting for me to continue.