Chapter Fifty-Five
"You've slept with Ariana Gregory?" I demanded heatedly. The two of us were standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, and I was screaming at him.
"Who hasn't?" he said defensively.
"She's a whore! And I mean a literal whore! She trades sex for grades, money, drugs…"
"She didn't pay me," he stated.
"Oh, and that makes it better?" I yelled.
"Well yeah," he said.
"A whore!" I said again in disbelief.
"Your sister's mother was a whore," he reminded me. I reached out to slap him, but he caught my wrist easily.
"Treat others as you want to be treated, Cal. I'm sorry, but come on, it was a year ago. It really, really doesn't matter," he said.
"How many have there been?" I asked.
"Um, her, Stacey Young, Mariah Peters, Kimberly West, Ursula Cooley, Ryan Ricketts…" he said embarrassedly.
"My God. Plus all the ones you can't remember, because you were drunk," I said in disbelief.
"Plus them."
"Plus Jenny," I said. He paused.
"Plus her. You know how much I love you?" he asked.
"Shut up, we're fighting. I'm beginning to think that this was a mistake," I said, sighing and sitting on the counter.
"Us? Getting married? The timing isn't exactly ideal, but we're in love and you're having a baby. What's inopportune about that?" he asked.
"See, the thing is, I don't think I am," I said. He paled more, if possible, than he had when I'd told him I was pregnant. Or thought I was.
"Not having a baby. How is that possible?" he asked shakily.
"Come on, it's kind of obvious. Ever since those tests, I haven't felt remotely different. I haven't thrown up once, I'm no more emotional than I was, nothing. I think the tests were wrong," I said.
"It was three tests. How can three tests with a ninety-nine percent accuracy all be wrong?" he asked. He took my shoulders.
"It's possible. Rare, but possible," I said, with forced calm. When I'd come to the conclusion that I wasn't, I'd cried for hours.
"So what now?" he asked.
"Now, we don't have to be married. I'm getting out," I said. I calmly picked up my bag from the table and began to walk toward the front door.
For a long time I didn't hear him follow me. I walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into the main floor hall and began to walk down it. I slipped on my shoes and my hand hovered on the doorknob.
My heart lifted as I heard his running footsteps finally coming for me. I began to push the door open, but he came up behind me and turned me to face him. I tilted my head up in time for his lips to come crashing down to meet mine passionately and lovingly. I put my arms around his neck, and he bent slightly to swing my legs onto his other arm, placing his right one on my shoulders while I clung to his neck. He took me in his arms upstairs, and placed me on the bed that was ours before getting on it himself.
I took of my shirt and fumbled with his own while his hands went to the zipper of my skirt. As he took it off me his lips and hands were already at work, rubbing the places that made me feel the best. He put one hand in between my legs while his other undid my bra strap in one clean, practiced motion.
My moans seemed to arouse him as his lips trailed down my abdomen to my pierced belly button. I wrapped a leg around his waist and kissed his neck while I braced myself for the warmth that was about to follow.
The warm feeling spread around my whole body as he moved around inside of me. I felt his weight on top of me, all of him pressing onto me.
Finally he stopped and rolled over to the side. We were both panting heavily.
"I don't think I'm capable of leaving you," I said.
"Not if I have anything to say about it," he responded.
"You know if I'm not pregnant, we've been having constant unprotected sex for weeks?" I commented.
"It had occurred to me. That was the best we'd ever done," he said.
"Yeah. By far. You know Jenny told me that the first time she did it, it lasted about two seconds?" I said.
"Yeah. I guess it's not such a bad thing that I've had so much experience," he said, laughing.
"Not at all," I agreed, surprising him by climbing up and sitting astride his chest..
"You know, naked ice cream is better than clothed ice cream," I observed. Much later, we were in our kitchen, eating Haagen Daaz out of the container.
"Mm. I guess it depends on who you're naked with," he said.
"Funny. By the way, just so you know, I have no intention of sleeping with Mark Delaurier or John Fenning," I clarified.
"Good to hear. I know it's a complete double standard, but I'm glad you were never with anyone else. I don't think I'd have been able to handle that," he admitted.
"I'm glad I never did either. God, I'm covered in…" I said, trailing off while I looked at my very naked body in the mirror. My neck had a very noticeable hickey on it.
"I missed you," he said.
"For the whole forty eight hours we didn't do it in," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Yeah. I can't believe we went so long without realizing," he said. I thought of all the times we'd spent together, being so physically and mentally close. All the times it would have been so easy for just one little kiss that would establish everything. Years we'd wasted. Or had we? Sawyer's friendship had been one of the most worthwhile parts of my life for years.
"I think everyone else did," I said, giggling. I thought of the time Jenny had accused me of being in love with him, after the wedding when Lauren had discovered his crush on Jenny. What she'd said about the age we'd marry.
"Yeah. All my friends thought I was insane, for not trying to hook up with you," he said.
"You were. I'm quite the catch," I said.
"How well I know it," he responded, putting an arm around my waist and pulling me onto his lap.
"Are you disappointed? That I'm not having a baby?" I asked anxiously.
"It would have changed our lives completely. We wouldn't be able to wander around naked or have spontaneous sex, or go out wherever we wanted whenever we wanted. But I would have loved it, and we would have loved each other even more because of it," he said.
"Someday," I promised.
"Have you spoken to Jenny?" he asked. I shook my head. "You should."
"I can't. Your were my ex at the time, and technically you were entitled, especially if it was only once, but she's my sister. My sister, Sawyer. She shouldn't have," I said sadly.
"It was a mistake," he admitted.
"It was more than that. She betrayed me. Sisters are more important than friends, even more important than lovers in some senses. She's going to have to understand that. And pay for that," I said coolly.
Author's note: You may have wanted to shield your eyes for this one. I think it's still appropriate for the age group, but I'm not quite sure.
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