Chapter 30 Wyatt
WYATT
I WAKE UP IN AN unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed to a familiar voice speaking in the doorway.
“We might have a problem.”
I look at Blake and squint in agony against the morning light. Christ. It feels like knives stabbing me in the eyeballs. I dig the heels of my palms into my eye sockets and groan.
“Yeah, a very big problem,” I mumble. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover. How are you standing in the sunlight and not dying a slow death?”
“Oh, I’m dying. There is literally a hamster running around in my brain and smashing against my skull.”
“Literally a hamster?”
“Yes, literally. But we have a bigger problem than that.”
“All right, hold on. Let me open my eyes really slowly.”
I try it, a fraction of an inch at a time, until finally I manage to crack open my eyelids and not collapse in excruciating pain.
“So I thought maybe I peed my pants,” she starts.
“Okay, not where I thought this conversation was going.”
“Because I woke up in, like, a puddle—”
“If you’re trying to turn me on, this is not the right strategy.”
“I’m trying to say we didn’t use a condom last night, and all your…um…offerings were everywhere.”
I freeze. “Everywhere, like I came on your stomach?”
She shoots down the hope. “Nope.”
“Shit.”
“I know.”
“And you’re not on the pill.” It’s not a question. That’s the first thing she told me when we started hooking up. She went off the pill two years ago because it gave her migraines, so we’ve been using condoms. Diligently. Until last night, it appears.
“Nope, not on the pill,” she confirms before offering a sliver of hope. “But I did check my app, and I’m ninety-five percent certain we’re out of the danger zone.”
Relief trickles through me. “Really?”
“I mean, it can’t give us the exact moment of ovulation, but I think that window has passed and we should be okay.”
“You sure the egg isn’t just hanging around in there for funsies?”
She snickers. “It does for a day or two, I think. And even though I’m pretty sure we’re safe, I’d probably feel more comfortable if we drove into town and got, like, Plan B or something. Can we do that?”
I’m already sliding out of bed. “I’ll grab a shower and meet you downstairs in ten.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re on the road, and I’m feeling a little more human after two cups of coffee. Sunglasses protect my eyes from the knives in the sky AKA the sun, and Blake protects us both by not putting on any music.
“Look at us, being so adult,” she says from the passenger seat.
I chuckle. “Well, I believe I probably speak for both of us when I say we don’t want a little Graham baby running around.”
“Logan baby,” Blake corrects.
“Sorry to inform you, but you’ll have to fight my dad for the title.”
“You’ll have to fight mine.”
“We can let them fight each other.”
“Deal.”
When I stop at a red light, I reach across the console and cover her hand with mine. “I’m really sorry,” I say softly. “I fucked up.”
Blake shakes her head. “No, we both did.”
“We had sex without a condom. That’s on me.”
“It’s on both of us,” she says firmly. “I’m responsible for my own birth control.”
“Yes, but there’re other things that can happen when you don’t use protection. And I just want you to know, I don’t have any of those things, and I’m happy to go to a clinic with you to prove it.”
She smiles. “I appreciate that, but I wasn’t worried.”
The light turns green, and I drive through the intersection. The pharmacy is at the end of the block, but it doesn’t have a parking lot, and the street is packed with cars. I find an empty spot two blocks past the CVS, and Blake and I hop out of the Jeep and start walking.
I reach for her hand again, and she notes our intertwined fingers with a wry smile.
“Everyone’s showing up tomorrow,” she says glumly.
“I know.”
We’ve sort of been avoiding this subject.
The reality that all the families will be here tomorrow and we won’t be able to keep doing what we’re doing.
No more daily sex marathons. No more cuddling on the couch.
My chest clenches. The idea of not touching her for a whole month is worse than this hangover.
“We’re going to have to find ways to sneak around while they’re here,” I tell her.
“Ooh, scandalous. I thought you said we should cool it when the families come.”
I stroke her knuckles with my thumb. “Changed my mind. Unless you don’t want to?”
“Oh, I want to.”
“Good.”
“Honestly, I doubt most of them will even notice if we sneak off here and there. The dads are clueless, and the Golden Boys are too obsessed with themselves.” Blake purses her lips. “What we’ll need to watch out for is the women. My mom. Gigi.”
“Alex,” I supply, because Alexandra Tucker can detect a romance like a bomb-sniffing dog.
“Jamie will figure it out instantly,” Blake says. “But she’ll keep her mouth shut.”
I agree. Tucker’s eldest daughter knows how to mind her own business. She also happens to be one of my favorite people. Jamie can cut a man down with one word, just like her mother.
“Have you and Alex ever hooked up?”
Blake’s question comes out of left field. “What?”
“You’re badminton partners,” she points out. “And you visit her in New York all the time.”
I could lie, but we don’t do that with each other. So I shrug and say, “We’ve made out.”
“That’s it?” She sounds surprised.
“That’s it. And it’s always so goddamn awkward. Zero sparks.”
“Wait, you’ve hooked up more than once?” Blake starts laughing. “Even though you’re not into each other?”
“Yeah,” I admit sheepishly.
“How many times?”
“Maybe, like, three?” I say, thinking about it. “Alcohol has a way of making you doubt yourself. Like, we’d get drunk and look at each other and say, we’re both so hot, maybe we are attracted to each other. But nope. Always ends the same way. With laughter and regret.”
“Laughter and regret? Jeez. You’re lucky Alex is drowning in self-esteem.”
“That and she’s hung up on this hockey player guy.”
Curiosity fills Blake’s eyes. “Ooh, who?”
“Luke’s brother. I mean, Ryder,” I correct. I always forget my brother-in-law doesn’t like anyone calling him Luke. He only lets Gigi and my mother get away with it.
“Are you talking about Owen McKay? Alex told me it was a one-time thing.”
“Nah, definitely more than once. Last time I went out drinking with her, she bitched about him the entire time. I think he spurned her. But she might’ve spurned him first? I’m not sure. I don’t get involved. Anyway, Alex is the one we’ll have to watch out for.”
“And Stella,” Blake reminds me. “Maybe Ivy.”
“Stella is a menace, so yes. But Ivy is too sweet to pry into other people’s sex lives.”
We arrive at the pharmacy where I open the door for her, earning me a big smile from Blake. She’s always so overjoyed when I do basic things like opening her door or pulling out her chair, which makes me wonder what kind of heathen Isaac Grant was. Jackass definitely didn’t deserve her.
We make a beeline for the family planning aisle, only to find the shelf that normally contains the emergency contraceptives is empty.
“Maybe they keep it behind the counter?” Blake says.
“Let’s go ask.”
To my dismay, when we go to the pharmacist’s counter, the white-coated man shakes his head and says, “Sorry. We ran out of stock.”
“Can you call the other pharmacies in the area and check if they have any?” Blake asks with a worried frown.
“They’re all having the same issue, I’m afraid.
There was a shortage due to a supply chain problem, so supplies were already low, and then that jackass running for office decided to make the ban of emergency contraception one of the issues he’s running on, and it created a panic in the community.
Customers started stockpiling, and now here we are. ”
Fuck.
Sympathy fills his eyes when he notes our disappointed faces. “We have an order coming in on Monday,” he says.
“But today is Saturday,” Blake frets. “Will it still be effective on Monday?”
The pharmacist nods. “It’s effective up to seventy-two hours. When did the intercourse take place?”
I choke down a nervous laugh. I’m twenty-four years old, yet the word intercourse still makes me uncomfortable. “About eight hours ago?”
“You’re still within that window then. I’m in on Monday morning. If you’d like to leave your number with me, I can set a box aside when the shipment arrives, and you can come pick it up.”
“Thank you,” Blake says gratefully while the pharmacist slides a pen and paper across the counter.
We leave the pharmacy empty-handed, Blake’s teeth worrying her bottom lip the entire walk back to the Jeep.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” I assure her. “That is just the backup anyway. We’re not in the ovulation window, remember?”
She nods slowly. “Right.”
“It’ll be fine, freckles.” I take her hand and lace our fingers together. “Come on. Let’s go home and clean up for the circus.”