Epilogue
Hazel
T hat asshole got me pregnant. Dammit. It’s a good thing I love him.
I stare at the three positive pregnancy tests sitting on the bathroom counter plus the confirmation from my doctor on my phone.
When I received the email, it didn’t seem possible.
There was no way my birth control, which I’d been taking religiously for years, every single day at precisely six A.M., had failed.
So, I drove to the nearest pharmacy, bought a box of three pregnancy tests—the most expensive brand, too—and took them all, just to find out my doctor is, in fact, correct.
If the text, ‘seven weeks and four days pregnant’ is anything to go by, my birth control had failed me the very first time Jeremiah and I had sex.
“Sweetheart, I’m home, and I have dinner!” Jeremiah calls as he opens the front door.
He’d sent me ahead of him while he picked up dinner, giving me his house key so I could let myself in. Good thing he had so I didn’t have to explain the random pharmacy trip. He’ll find out anyway though. Now, I need to tell him about this baby…
Yet, all I want to do is rip him a new asshole for this. How did his damn little swimmers accomplish this? It feels impossible, yet the proof stares me in the face.
“Hazel?” The concern in his voice nearly undoes me.
My heart clenches, and my chest tightens.
Tears threaten. This is so not me. I’m not emotional, and I hardly ever cry.
All the emotional ups and downs sent me seeking out my doctor in the first place.
My periods are irregular even with my birth control, so I never thought anything of missing a period.
But this constant up and down in my moods? Red flag. Huge red flag, at that.
“What?” I snap then sniffle because dammit, the tears are coming. All because he sounds concerned. I couldn’t hate myself more. Will I be like this the entire pregnancy? I sure hope not. I may lock myself in a closet and never come out. It’s embarrassing.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Jeremiah tenderly asks as he comes into the bathroom.
His eyes are on me, not on the counter. Gently gripping my cheek, he turns me to face him and tilts my head back to look up at him. His brows furrow, and his lips tug down into a frown.
“Why are you crying?” He sounds panicked now. “You never cry like this, sweetheart.”
I stomp my foot like a child, but I can’t help it. I want to scream and cry and laugh and punch him in his stupidly handsome face.
“You did this,” I sniffle then promptly begin to cry.
Fat tears roll down my cheeks, and I sob.
My hands cover my face as I try to hide from him.
This is stupid. I’m an adult, and I’m fully capable of taking care of a child, even on my own.
Not that I expect Jeremiah to walk away.
He’s been so into our relationship from the very beginning, even when it was technically fake.
But I’m frustrated. I want more time with him before a baby is added into the mix.
“Okay.” He tugs me into his arms and holds me tightly. “I don’t know what I did, but if you just tell me, I’ll fix it, okay? I’ll make it better. I promise. I don’t want you crying. It’s freaking me out.”
I blubber a laugh that only makes me cry harder.
“Your swimmers are too potent,” I manage past my hiccups.
“My…what?” he finally asks, sounding stumped. “My swimmers?”
“Your cum. Sperm. Nut. Body yogurt. Your baby batter.”
He coughs to cover his laugh.
“I’m sorry—my body yogurt? My baby batter?” He gently eases me back from him and looks down at me, his lips rolled into his mouth to keep from laughing.
I punch him in his chest because he’s a jerk for laughing at me when I’m currently having an emotional crisis.
“I need you to rewind. If you’re upset you’re pregnant…” He sighs. “I already knew.”
I blink, my tears pausing.
“You know? You already know? How could you know?” I gasp, outraged. “You did this on purpose?” I grab the tests off the counter and push them into his face.
He rears back, then gently pushes my hands down.
“You knocked me up!” I shout. “There’s a baby building a whole damn house in my uterus now, Jeremiah!”
He laughs, and I grit my teeth, ready to hit him again. He holds up his hands. “Hazel, no. I did not knock you up on purpose. I swear I didn’t. I would never do that to you, okay?”
He cups my cheeks again when I just continue glaring at him.
“Okay, sweetheart? I would never do that to you.”
Finally, I nod, my shoulders deflating. He presses his lips to my forehead.
“You are so damn adorable when you’re angry with me,” he murmurs. He smiles at me. “I knew you were pregnant because I know your body so well. Your tits are sore, and you taste different.”
“I taste different?” I ask.
He nods, a wicked grin tilting his lips. “Want me to tell you exactly how?”
I suck in a sharp breath when he suddenly lifts me and deposits me on the bathroom counter before dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands slide up my bare thighs, pushing my dress higher and higher until it pools around my hips.
“I can tell you all about your new taste while I work out some of your tension and relax you.”
Well, when he put it that way…
“I’m sorry for yelling and crying and losing my mind.”
He scoffs. “You’ve been doing it for a few weeks now, sweetheart. I’m used to it.”
I don’t have time to snap at him for basically calling me emotional before he pushes aside my thong and buries his face between my thighs.
The tests drop from my hand and clatter to the floor.
My fingers slide into his hair, and I moan, falling back against the mirror, so I can use his face as my personal toy.
And just as he promised, he tells me exactly how different I taste, and he brings me to three orgasms so he can make sure he gets the descriptions just right.
“I love you,” I manage between panting breaths as he fixes my clothes.
Leaning in, he kisses me, dipping his tongue into my mouth. I moan when the taste of myself explodes across my tongue. And what do you know… It’s exactly as he described.
“I love you more than I can ever put into words, sweetheart.” He drags me to the edge of the counter then lifts me and carries me from the bathroom. “Now, let’s feed you and our little one, hmm? And maybe, watch some TV. And perhaps later, I’ll fuck you to sleep.”
I hum and press a kiss to his neck. “I can get behind that plan.”
He chuckles and squeezes my ass before capturing my lips in a soft kiss. So loving and reverential it’s obvious whatever the sort of bully he was in the past, he’ll always be a gentle giant to me.