Fuck. Now or never.
“I’m pregnant.”
He looks … relieved?
“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I wait for him to say something else, to have the news sink in and the panic hit. Vader jumps off the couch to get a toy. Noah scoots closer.
“I can see how that’s upsetting,” he starts, keeping his gaze locked with mine. “But, uh, why are you telling me?”
I blink once. Twice. Three times. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he says and confusion takes over his face. He really has no idea. He hasn’t put two and two together. “I don’t get what this has to do with me.”
It’s like I have no control over my body. My right hand comes up and swings, flat palm hitting him in the face. The slap stings, and causes Noah to jump back in surprise.
“What the fuck?”
“I’m pregnant and you are the father,” I saw slowly through gritted teeth.
If I thought Noah looked surprised before, I was mistaken. The color drains from his face. Then he shakes his head.
“No, I’m not.”
“We hooked up. And now I’m pregnant. You are the father.”
His eyes dart around the room. “But that was over a month ago.”
“Yeah, these things take some time.”
He runs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Then he looks up at me. “Are you sure it’s mine?”
I raise my arm to slap him again but Noah catches my wrist. “Yes, I’m sure. There are no other possibilities. I’ve only been with you in the last six months.”
“You’ve had sexoncein half a—never mind. Are you sure?”
My eyes fill with the tears I’ve been battling. “Positive.”
Noah slides his hand up my wrist and laces our fingers. The tears roll down my cheeks. He pulls me to him, wrapping me in a hug that I didn’t know I desperately needed.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “I don’t have a fucking clue how, but it’ll be okay.”
I slide my arms around his muscular torso, inhaling slowly to calm myself. Noah smells intoxicating, like soap and cologne, mixing with the scent of leather from his motorcycle jacket. My heart pounds in my chest, pressed against his, and it’s beating just as hard.
His lips sweep against my neck, so soft I almost don’t feel it.
Almost.
I shiver, and fight against the warmth that tingles inside of me.
I lose.
“You’re pro-choice, right?” he starts.
“Do you want me to slap you again?” I ask, yanking my hands from his.
“But you are, right?”