Mateo was only trying to extend a gesture of trust, and now he’s completely screwed me.
“Why does Adrian hate you?” I suddenly ask.
Mateo glances over at me, but returns his attention to some paper he’s filling out before answering. “He’s in love with Elise.”
Well, okay, that makes sense. “Why would that make him hate you?”
Smiling slightly, he says, “Elise is in love with me.”
My stomach sinks, and I’m not sure for whom. “You and Elise are…?”
“Nope. Girlhood crush she hasn’t outgrown yet, I think.” Then, with a little smile, he informs me, “I’m quite irresistible, you know.”
I crack a smile, but roll my eyes at him. “You’re something.”
—
After agonizing all evening about what to tell Vince, I give up waiting for him. It being a school night, I doubt he’ll wake me up once he gets home, so I’ll have to talk to him in the morning on the way to school. If I talk to him. I still haven’t figured my way out of this mess.
Turns out he does wake me when he gets home though. I’m dead asleep, drooling on my pillow, and all of a sudden I wake up to his hands roaming all over me.
I’m a little relieved, figuring if he still wants to fuck me, Adrian probably hasn’t ratted me out yet.
And fuck me, he does. I get another earth-shattering, building from the deepest part of me orgasm that knocks me out of my senses for several minutes, but then I feel more wetness between my legs than I expect to. A lot more. I’m tummy down on the bed after doggie style, Vince’s arm thrown across my back as he catches his breath. Reaching down between my legs, I realize something’s wrong.
“Vince… can you check the condom?” Patting the sheets, also wet and sticky, I start to lose my cool a little. “Oh my God, I think the condom broke.”
Before he can check, I launch out of bed and dart into the bathroom. I’ve already been lying there for several minutes, but I jump in the shower anyway, desperately scrubbing between my legs.
This can’t be happening. He literally just told me how much he didn’t want kids, and now the condom breaks. He’s going to be paranoid about having sex now.
I need to get on the pill.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Vince and the soiled bedding are gone. The bed has been made up to perfection, indicating one of the maids has been here. That’s kind of embarrassing, since they can probably guess why we needed a change of sheets in the middle of the night, but that’s literally the least of my worries right now.
Climbing into bed alone, I sigh and pull the covers up to my neck. I’m still a little tired, but now the adrenaline has me wide awake. I guess when Vince comes back, I could talk to him, but somehow nothing seems sufficient. “Hey, so, I know you don’t want kids and we just had our first broken condom incident, but I also wanted to tell you that your mistrustful cousin, the one you’ve been worried wants to get in my pants? He’s now comfortable talking about top secret criminal activity shit in front of me for some crazy reason! So… that was my day. How was Joey’s?”
Yeah, no.
Chapter Twenty Two
I’m sick with worry the next morning—over all my own shit, and the fact that from what I can tell, Vince never came back to bed last night.
I don’t know where his head’s at, but it can’t be good. I do what I can to check my cycle, seeing if there’s any chance I could’ve even been ovulating, but I forgot to mark my last period and I can’t remember when it was looking at a calendar. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about from one slip-up, but I would feel better if I could offer him something solid.
“You look pensive,” Mateo remarks.
I glance up at him, biting my bottom lip uncertainly. I suppose I could ask him for help. He’s the head of the family, after all.
“Kinda. Um, do you guys have, like… a family doctor, or…?”
Smirking at me, he asks, “A mob doctor?”
“No, just… I mean, maybe, if they can get the same stuff.”
“What is it you need?”
Squirming, I say, “I would rather tell a girl. I can go to my mom, but it’ll take longer and we don’t have good insurance—I don’t know.”
Frowning slightly, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“I just… I need—God, I don’t want to ask you. Please don’t make me ask you. Is Francesca here? Cherie? Literally anyone with a vagina?”
“I’ve seen my fair share of them, if that helps.”
Grimacing, I say, “Ah, gross! It doesn’t. No. God.”
“We’re all adults here,” he states, firmly.
Well, not all of us, but I don’t argue. “I need birth control. And possibly the morning after pill.”