Bennett (On the Line 2)

“No. Now. Your friend can wait in another room. I won’t stay long.”

So she’d already seen Alayna. I looked over my shoulder and cringed. Alayna was still standing there in her bra.

“You have to go,” I said.

“What?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

She slid her shirt on, stepped back into her heels and picked up the coat she’d thrown on a chair when we walked in. Then she gave me a dirty look and sneered at Charlotte on her way out the door.

Charlotte didn’t even react. She walked in the door and I closed it behind her.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why didn’t you call? It’s been like two months.”

“L

et’s sit down.”

“I’m worried about you.” I flipped a switch and two living room lamps came on. “You look upset.”

“Well, yeah.” She looked down at the floor. “I’m pregnant.”

I just looked at her for a few seconds, dizzy as I processed what she’d said. Then a wave of nausea hit and I had to put a hand on the wall to steady myself.

“Oh. Well, that’s . . .”

I couldn’t even finish the sentence. What was happening? Five minutes ago, my world had been very different than it was right now.

“Awful,” Charlotte finished for me. “I know. I found out a week ago. The doctor pinpointed the conception date to a three-day window, and you’re the only . . . I hadn’t been with my ex for three weeks before you and I . . .”

“Yeah.” I nodded and leaned against the wall. “I wasn’t going to . . . if you know it’s mine, that’s . . . yeah, that’s fine.”

Charlotte’s pale blue eyes flooded with tears. “I’ve been a wreck. I just puke and cry and sleep. I can’t figure out how this happened. Did the condom break? I mean, you would have mentioned that, right?”

The sick sensation rolling in my stomach intensified. “Condom?”

Our eyes locked and my heart felt like it stopped beating.

“Yes.” Charlotte’s tone was icy. “The fucking condom, Bennett. What the hell else would you get from your jeans right before we had sex?”

“A mint.”

Her eyes widened. “A mint?”

“Yeah.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled, charging toward me with her arms raised.

“Charlotte.” I held on to her forearms to keep her from scratching my eyes out. “What’s wrong with me? You said we were good. I thought you were on the pill.”

“What? I didn’t say that!”

“You did. When I asked if we were good, you said we were.”

She fought against my hold on her forearms. “Good as in ready, Bennett. Since when is that code for ‘are you on the pill?’”

The circles under her eyes and frantic look on her face touched something inside me. It didn’t matter whose fault it was, she’d obviously been worried and living through hell the last week.