No Strings

“Then what is it?” I lean forward and shoot her a hard look that hopefully conveys I won’t tolerate being lied to.

She closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling a deep breath before she releases a harsh exhale, reopening her eyes. “I needed some time alone to get my head on straight.”

“Because of what happened between us Friday night?”

“Because while I was under the influence, I made reckless decisions.”

“You’re a grown adult, Savannah. I’d hardly call what we did reckless. People do it all the time.”

“Do they also have unprotected sex while not on any type of birth control?” she asks, raising a brow.

It takes several seconds for her words to sink in, but once they do, I damn near lose my shit because holy fuck, we had sex without a condom.

I never have sex without a condom. Ever. Not since Paola tricked me into impregnating her.

This can’t be right…

She has to be confused. She’d been drinking and…

I stand, my heart thrumming in my chest, and pace the room, trying to recall the details from Friday night. Unlike Savannah, I had barely drunk anything. A couple of glasses at most. My mind goes back to us in the office.

The clothes coming off.

The orgasms.

Her begging me to fuck her.

Me telling her no.

Me giving in.

I not only had sex with her without a condom, but I also came inside her.

My eyes land on her midsection that’s hidden behind her desk. I fucked up, and I only have myself to blame. She didn’t force me or trick me. I willingly fucked her bare.

“I’m clean,” she says, mistaking the reason for my look of panic. “My husband was the last man I slept with without a condom, and after I found out he was cheating on me, I was thoroughly tested.”

“I was... I’ve never…” I stammer, unable to finish a damn thought. Fuck! I had sex without a condom.

I stop in place and look at her. “I always use protection.”

“I’m sure you do,” she says dryly.

“I’m serious.” I step over to her. “I’m always careful. I can’t believe…”

“It was both our responsibility,” she says. “Like I said, I made reckless choices Friday night, and I needed time to sort through my head. I wasn’t avoiding you… I just…” She shrugs. “I’ve scheduled an appointment with my gynecologist.”

“Are you pregnant?” I blurt out, my eyes dropping back down to her stomach, which is stupid since it’s only been a few days. Even if she is pregnant, she wouldn’t be showing yet. Hell, I don’t even think they can tell this early.

“Probably not,” she says, and if I’m not mistaken, she almost sounds sad. “But I’ll find out for sure in a couple of weeks. Either I’ll get my period or the doctor will run a test.”

My skin goes clammy, my insides turning ice-cold. There’s a chance she could be pregnant. We only had unprotected sex once, so she’s probably not, but there’s still a possibility. It only takes one time.

“Look,” she says softly. “I know you’re freaking out, but the chances of me being pregnant are slim.” She averts her gaze over my shoulder, and I notice her eyes are now glassy. “Neil and I tried to conceive for well over a year and couldn’t. Then he got my ex-best friend pregnant, so I’m almost positive I was the problem.”

She blinks several times before she releases a harsh breath. “So, don’t worry. You couldn’t have fucked up with a better person than me,” she chokes out, forcing a watery smile. “I’m broken.”

Oh shit. I’m over here freaking out that she might be pregnant, and she’s sad that it’s most likely not a possibility because she can’t get pregnant.

“No.” I close the gap between us. “Come here.” I pull her up into my arms for a hug, and she lets me. Her face lands against my chest, and I can feel her body shaking with silent sobs. “Shh, it’s okay,” I murmur. “You’re not broken.”

She sniffles then backs up, wiping her tears away. “I am, but it is what it is.” She shrugs. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” she says with a humorless laugh. “I’d give anything to be pregnant because it would mean I’m able to be, and you’re praying to God that I’m not.” She releases a shaky sigh. “If by some chance I am pregnant, I won’t ask you for anything, I promise. I knew from the get-go how you felt—”

“Stop,” I say, cutting her off. “Do I want to have any more kids? No, I don’t. But I was there in that office on Friday night, and I know how it all went down. If you are pregnant, I’ll one-hundred-percent be there for you and this baby.” And I mean that with every ounce of my being. “I’m not the same boy I was fifteen years ago. I’m not going to run. I am just as responsible, if not more so, for what happened, and I’ll be there every step of the way.”