Beauty from Pain (Beauty, #1)(80)

“I would be mortified if your family heard us.”

His mouth is on my earlobe and he sucks it into his mouth before nipping it with his teeth. “I don’t care. Let them hear us.”

“No.” It comes out more like a weak plea than the stern command I intended.

He groans against my ear. “I don’t like it when you tell me no.”

He’s whining but it’s adorable. “I know you don’t hear it often, but ‘no’ can be a very good answer for you to hear from time to time.”

“Tell me one time when it’s good.”

“Okay.” I look at him over my shoulder, “Ask me if I’m pregnant.”

His body becomes rigid before he backs away from me. He releases my hands and I turn around to look at him. “Ask me.”

“Are you pregnant?” It comes out as a whisper.

I lift a brow at him. “Do you want my answer to be yes or no?”

I smile, waiting for him to catch on to the point I’m making, but he stares blankly at me. “Are you?”

I smile as I answer. “No. See? Perfect example of when ‘no’ is exactly what you need to hear.”

He runs his hands through his dark hair and fists it. “Don’t ever f*ck with me like that, Laurelyn!” he yells. “Never!”

I flinch, startled by the loud outburst I’m certain his family must have heard. Shit, he’s mad—like, really mad. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was only making a point.”

I’m afraid I’ve screwed up big time. I feel the pooling in my eyes and I look toward the ceiling, pleading with my sockets to drink the tears. I hold my breath and cup my hands over my mouth to hold back the sob in my chest.

In my confusion over what has just happened, I go for the wrong door in an attempt to get away from him. “That’s the closet.”

Shit if I care. I walk into the small pitch-black room where Lachlan’s clothes hang and close the door behind me. I’m sure there’s a light switch in here somewhere, but I don’t try to find it. I’m too numb.

Several minutes pass and I hear a few light taps on the door, but I don’t say anything. I need to absorb all these emotions swirling around in my head right now. I try to put a name to the shock I’m feeling, but there’s not a single word that will fit. I’m hurt and belittled because he yelled at me and maybe even a little frightened by the fury in his voice.

I’m sure his family heard the commotion and it mortifies me to think of facing them. The worst part is the shame I feel. How can I be sleeping with a man who would become so furious by a possible pregnancy?

You know what? Fuck him.

I hear the light raps again. “I sort of know you’re in there unless there’s a hidden passage to a dungeon I don’t know about.” He’s trying to be humorous, but nothing in the world could be funny to me right now.

He opens the door and comes inside to stand with me in the dark. I feel him reach for me, but I step away. I can’t bear the touch that once set me on fire because in this moment, it only makes me feel cheap.

“No.” And there it is again. The word that started all of this. Now I hate it and don’t want to hear it, either.

I’m mad as hell, but I can’t control the sob in my chest. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Baby, please, don’t say that. I need to explain.”

I’m overcome by the what-if. What if I got pregnant? He’d hate me. “No. Every time we have sex, we risk making a baby together even if we use birth control. Unplanned pregnancies happen to real people every day. Look at me—I’m the result of one and see how shitty that ended up for everyone involved.”

“That’s not true, Laurelyn.”

“It is and I can’t do this anymore. I won’t risk making a baby with someone who would react the way you did just now. I couldn’t bear to ever see you look at me like that again.”

I feel him reaching for me in the dark and I try to push him away. His arms entwine me and he squeezes, almost too tight. “I’m so sorry, Laurelyn. I thought you were playing a trick on me about a baby because you thought it was funny. I should’ve known that wasn’t what you were doing. I’m so sorry.” I feel his hands move to my face. “I would never be angry because you were pregnant.”

This conversation is too much for me. I don’t want to talk about how a baby would make him feel because then I might be forced to think about how it would make me feel. “Can we agree that this was a misunderstanding and talk about something else?” I ask.

He hugs me in the darkness and kisses my head. “I think that’s a great idea, but can we leave the closet?”

I laugh. “You know I thought I was going into the bathroom, right?”

“I know.”

We leave the closet and climb into bed. I scoot close so I can put my head on his chest. I’m reeling from tonight’s events. I told him I wanted to end things with him and now, two seconds later, I’m curled around him like a kitten desperate for his touch. Yeah, I really showed him who’s boss.

Was I really going to walk away from him? I think I was, but there’s no use in speculating. He didn’t let me go.

This game has changed. The rules are no longer the same, but I don’t have the manual. He does, and I need guidance on where to go from here.