Crashed(book three)(82)

But it never comes.

He stands in the middle of us, motionless, lost in thoughts I can only imagine. The playful man I love from last night is nonexistent. I can see the cogs in his head turning, notice the wince of pain that I’m sure is from another headache hitting him … but if he’s completely frozen, then I’m f*cking paralyzed.

Tawny’s eyes flicker over and assess me with complete disregard, before looking back at Colton, a soft smile on her face. “You drove me home from Davis’ house, asked to come in … we had sex, Colton. The first time we were drunk … desperate to be with each other again and didn’t use a condom.”

And if her dagger isn’t already breaking skin and pushing into my heart, she has to add the notion that they were together multiple times to twist it a little deeper.

“Before … when we dated before...” he clears his throat “...you used to be religious about taking your pill.” I don’t recognize his voice, and I’ve been on the receiving end of Colton’s wrath, but right now the absolute contempt in his tone sends shivers up my spine.

“I wasn’t on the pill,” she says softly with an unapologetic shrug as she takes a step toward him, the possible mother of his child. The gentle intimacy in her tone causes tears to spring in my eyes. She reaches out to touch Colton’s arm and he yanks it out of her reach.

His reaction and the unfettered panic in his eyes causes the reality of this all to begin to seep through my denial, the possibility that this isn’t a ploy to merely get him back.

I sag against the wall behind me, my ghosts and inadequacies as a woman threatening to rear their ugly head. I place a hand on my abdomen to stifle the pang I feel in my useless womb. The one that will forever remain empty. The one that can’t give him the only thing she can. I feel the beginnings of a panic attack—breath laboring, heart racing, eyes unable to focus—as I wonder if the man who professes to never want kids just might change his mind when faced with the possibility of one. It happens all the time. And if it does, then where does that leave us? Leave me? The woman who can’t give him that.

“No!” It falls from my lips in response to my silent thoughts.

Colton whips around to look at me quickly, distress etched in his features at my unexpected words. And then she snorts out in disregard and adds gasoline to Colton’s fire.

“Get out!” He shouts so loudly I jump, and for a moment, because he’s facing me, I fear that he’s speaking to me. I force a swallow, his eyes flicking over me before he turns his back to me and points toward Tawny and then the door. “Get. The. Fuck. Out!”

“Colty …”

“Don’t you ever call me that!” he yells, grated steel in his voice as he raises his eyes to look toward where she’s not moved an inch. “No one gets to call me that! Do you think you’re special? Do you think you can just waltz in here and tell me you’re five f*cking months pregnant? That I’d care? Why are you telling me now, huh? Because it’s too late for me to have a say in anything, so you think you’ve trapped me? Found your golden f*cking ticket?” He begins to pace, lacing his fingers behind his head and blowing out a loud breath. “I’m not Willy f*cking Wonka, sweetheart. Go find yourself another sugar daddy.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Colton whirls around in a flash, his gaze meeting mine and the void in his expressionless eyes startles me. Dead eyes look at me momentarily before he breaks our connection and strides back across the room to where Tawny still stands. “You’re goddamn right I don’t believe you. Quit the crap and get the f*ck out with your bullshit lies.” He’s inches from her face, eyes glaring, and posture threatening.