You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(69)

Wait a minute.

Oh.

My.

God.

We forgot to use a condom.

Again.

“Jordan.” I’m shoving at his shoulders, trying to push him off of me, but that’s impossible. He’s huge. Like a massive wall of solid muscle, and he’s still lost in his own orgasm, his chest covered in sweat, his muscles gleaming in the dim light, making him look like some sort of sex god. I’m not lost to the moment anymore. No, I’m totally awake, no residual effects from the drugging orgasms I had only a few minutes ago effecting me.

Nope, I’m totally, one hundred percent aware we forgot to put the condom on again, and now we just doubled our chances in getting me pregnant.

“What’s wrong?” He’s staring down at me, his brows lowered, his breaths labored. I’m still shoving at his shoulders and he rolls over, slipping out of me, and when we both flip to our sides to face each other, I can feel the semen spill from my body, leaving the inevitable wet spot on the mattress.

“You didn’t wear a condom.” My voice sounds way more accusatory than I meant it to, and I immediately feel bad.

But I shouldn’t feel bad. We’re acting foolish. Irresponsible. What the hell is wrong with us? Is our problem that we’re just too overcome by each other and so we’re acting reckless? That’s the oldest, lamest excuse ever.

“Wait, what? We forgot the condom?” When I grab his hand and bring it to the wet spot between us, he shakes his head and mutters, “Fuck.”

I crawl out of bed and go use the bathroom, remembering advice I read on a Reddit forum once. If you pee, more semen might come out and there’s less chance of you getting pregnant!

Yeah. That sounds like some piss poor advice if you ask me—excuse the pun.

But I’m desperate, so I’ll try anything.

Once I’m finished, I exit the bathroom to find Jordan sitting up in bed, the lamp on the bedside table on, casting the room in harsh light. I blink him into focus, almost disgusted by the fact that he looks so goddamn beautiful sitting there with the white sheet covering him from the waist down, the sweaty sheen on his chest and arms enhancing his muscular build versus making him just look dirty and smelly.

He couldn’t look dirty and smelly if he tried.

He’s got his hands in his hair and when he drops them to look at me, I notice his lips are swollen, his eyes full of unrecognizable emotion. He looks so despondent I can’t help but feel bad.

“I’m sorry,” he says when he spots me standing there in the bathroom’s doorway. “I’m an asshole.”

Sighing, I walk over to him and climb into bed. “You’re not an asshole,” I tell him as I slip between the sheets.

“It was totally careless of me, not to use a condom.” He slips his arm around my shoulders and hauls me in close, so I’m plastered to his side.

“We didn’t use one in the shower either,” I tell him quietly, resting my hand on the center of his chest. His heart is beating so fast. I smooth my fingers back and forth, wishing I could calm him down.

“Shit,” he mumbles, turning his head so our gazes meet. “I’m sorry.”

I lift up to kiss him. “Don’t apologize. It’s both our faults.”

We’re quiet for a while, the both of us overthinking everything, I’m sure. I know I am. The curtains are still open, letting in light from outside, and my eyes start to get heavy. Maybe we could take a nap. This day has been so totally overwhelming, in both the best and scariest possible way…

“Would it be such a bad thing, though?”

Jordan’s deep, rumbly voice wakes me up, and I blink up at the ceiling, confused. “What would be a bad thing?”

“You getting…” His voice drifts and he pauses for a moment before he spits out the word. “Pregnant.”

I pull away from him and sit up, shocked awake by what he’s saying. “Are you serious right now?”

He sits up too, leaning against the headboard. “I don’t know. You’re acting like what I’m suggesting is the end of the world.”

“Because maybe it would be the end of the world! We only just walked back into each other’s lives. Having a baby because of unprotected sex won’t solve whatever problems that might arise.” I can’t even believe he’d think it might be a positive thing—having a baby together. I mean…

Okay, I dreamed of having babies with him when we were younger. Because I was a romantic teen who wanted to give Jordan Tuttle my whole entire world.

Plus, the possibility of me getting pregnant? I can’t help but think of stupid Harvey Price and his views on opportunistic females who are only looking to earn a payout upon having a famous football player’s baby.

I know Jordan told me not to worry about Harvey, but I can’t help it. That’s the first thing he’d assume if I became pregnant. That’s what everyone would think of me, because everyone would know. The news would hit the internet, all the gossip sites, ESPN, everywhere. It would suck.

It would suck bad.

“You already think we’ll have problems?” He sounds hurt.

“All relationships have problems, Jordan. We’re not an exception. And we’re definitely not perfect,” I point out.

“But you know we’re pretty perfect together.” He rests his fingers against my lips before I can protest. Drops them when he realizes I’m going to be quiet. “Hear me out. I couldn’t tell you this when we were out on the street with everyone watching us, but when you sent me that DM on Instagram, I couldn’t believe it was you. At first, all I wanted to do was show off how great my life was and rub it in your face that you could’ve had your chance. If you hadn’t broken it off, your life would be pretty fucking great too.”