His Under Contract
“Kind of, she grew up beyond poor on a reservation, for years all she saw was what she didn’t have. When she married my father, in the beginning everything was great, they had money, she was simply happy going to the grocery store and being able to buy what she wanted. Then kids and moving every few years kicked in. It became her stress reliever, some people drink, she shops.”
“You still stay in touch. Do you ever think about not calling or picking up the phone?”
“Of course, especially when I first moved to Chicago. But my mom would call, sounding frantic, pleading with me to call her back. She sounded like she really cared. I couldn’t not call her. We talk every other week, our conversations only lasts about ten minutes or so. I talk to my dad at Christmas for about five minutes, that’s it. With my oldest brother, Michael, being active duty in the Marines we don’t really get to talk, we trade emails every few months. I felt closer to Fletcher, he’s only eighteen months older than I am. We got along really well, but when he turned eighteen, he took off to New York and I haven’t seen him since. He’s gay and I’m sure my parents didn’t want anything to do with him, but we never talk about what happened. We trade phone calls and texts about once a month, that’s about it though. He’s really busy, he’s a make-up artist for big magazines and he’s always traveling for work.”
“You haven’t been home since you left, have you?”
“No, and I’m okay with that.”
“I can understand. Come here, I need to hold you.”
We snuggle close. “Do you need anything else?”
“Sweetheart, I’m exhausted.”
“Just checking.” I murmur as I run my hand over his chest.
Catching my hand in his he kisses it before resting it flat on his chest. “Sleep, Holly.”
“Yes, Ethan.” And we do.
****
For the next few weeks, everything is great. Better than great, actually. Ethan started working from home on Saturday for just a few hours a day. I said nothing, instead, I tried to show him how happy I was. Because I really was, it meant everything to know he not only understood but that he wanted to make me happy. He got tiramisu and a very long sweet sucking when we went to bed.
Then I get the call. It’s the reminder call about needing my shot in a week. I tell the nurse I hate the shot and want to go on the pill instead. The nurse goes into a flurry of surprise, I’m not sure why. After stuttering, then asking for assistance from someone, she puts me on hold for so long I check a few times to make sure the call didn’t drop. Almost ten minutes later, she comes back on to tell me that if I want to go on the pill I’ll need to come in as soon as possible, so I would still be protected. They could squeeze me in tomorrow, if I came in as soon as they opened at eight. I check Ethan’s schedule and let them know I’d be there.
As we sit down to dinner, I tell Ethan, as I’ll need to leave a little before him to make it to my doctor’s office in Lincoln Park.
“I can prep your breakfast and leave it in the toaster oven for you.”
Ethan goes still. “Are you not protected right now?”
Oh, shit, it hadn’t crossed my mind. “I don’t know? I have to be, right? They know I got the shot because I’m having sex right now. I wasn’t due for the shot for another week.” Fear subsides as my stomach untwists. “Don’t you remember I had to wait a week for the shot? The pill had the same wait time. I’m sure it’s fine.”
He nods. “You’re right, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll go with you tomorrow.”
The idea of Ethan in such an intimate setting with me causes an instant recoil. Him there with me in stirrups? “Really?”
“Yes, really. I’m still not happy you did the shot that caused you so much pain. I want to know the options, to make sure you go with the right thing.”
Remembering the pain I went through with the shot, and how concerned he was, I give in. “If it’s really how you want to spend your morning.”
“It is.”
“Okay, but if she puts me in a paper gown and stirrups then you’re in the waiting room.”
“Duly noted.” He presses a kiss to my forehead.
I’m not surprised that when I fall asleep on the couch, Ethan puts me to bed without instigating sex. In the morning, he’s quiet, almost withdrawn. He skips his workout so we can have breakfast together. The drive is quick, thanks to traffic flowing in the other direction. Ricky drops us off at the front of the building and lets us know he’ll be in the garage.
The receptionist takes one look at Ethan then becomes three times nicer than the last time I was here. She lets me know the first appointment isn’t here yet so I could go in the back in a few minutes. We’re barely seated for more than five minutes when a nurse calls my name. Ethan follows me, his hand taking mine.
“You want off the shot. Was there a problem with it?” The nurse asks, as she motions to the exam table.
“Yes, it caused horrible period pain I’ve never had before. While there was barely any bleeding, like I wanted, it’s not worth it.”
“Okay, that