Distraction - Page 21/55

“I wasn’t—”

“It sounded like you were making excuses for why this won’t work,” he cuts me off, holding my face in his hands. Crap, that’s exactly what I was doing, reassuring him that when things come to an end that it won’t be his fault, that it’s me who isn’t good at relationships. “I’m not saying things are going to be perfect, but the idea of not having you, all of you, isn’t going to work for me anymore. I tried to ignore what I’m feeling, but you got under my skin, permanently branded yourself there without me even knowing it.”

Tears fill my eyes and slide down into my hair at his confession. “This is a lot to take in,” I sob as his fingers slide under my eyes.

“This has been happening for a long time, baby,” he says, gently brushing his lips across mine.

“I know,” I agree, crying harder while clutching onto him. Rolling us to our sides with me tucked into the back of the couch, he presses my face into his chest, holding one hand behind my head, the other wrapped tightly around me. “I love you, too,” I whisper. His body stills and his arms tighten before he lets out a long breath.

“I know, baby.” Feeling his lips at the top of my head, I lean my head back to look at him.

“Are your friends still here?”

“No they caught a flight out before I went to the club last night.”

“That was a short visit.”

“It was just business,” he mutters then searches my face. “Did you sleep?” he asks studying me.

“Yes.” I nod, pressing my forehead into his chest.

“Did you eat?”

“No, I had a Diet Coke,” I say, cuddling deeper into him, feeling myself relax.

“You need to eat, and then I want to take you to the hospital.”

“Why do I need to go to the hospital?” I ask, feeling my muscles grow tight.

“I want them to take some blood so we know what you were drugged with.”

“Oh,” I whisper, tilting my head back to look at him. “You have a camera over the bar.”

“I do. Zack sent over the video, but it didn’t capture anything out of the ordinary. The only person who poured your drinks was Eva—”

“She wouldn’t drug me,” I say, cutting him off, and his lips brush over mine.

“I know she’s your friend, baby, but everyone is a suspect right now.” He’s right, and that sucks. I like Eva a lot, but she is the only one I remember giving me a drink, and knowing me, I never would have left that drink unattended. “We’ll face that bridge when we come to it, but for now, I want you to eat something so we can go to the hospital.”

“Okay,” I agree as he rolls us off of the couch and takes me to the kitchen, making me sit as he makes me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Then he sits with me as I eat it before putting me in his SUV and taking me to the hospital.

“ARE YOU ON any kind of birth control?” the nurse asks as another woman places the needle in my arm.

“No,” I tell her, absently noticing the way Sven’s body has gone tight next to mine.

“Are you on any medication?”

“No,” I repeat, watching the woman in front of me place a small cylinder on the end of the needle then let out a ragged breath as the tube fills with blood.

“Have you taken any drugs in the last twenty-four hours that your aware of?”

“No.”

“We should have the results for this test back in the next week. If the drug is still in your system, we will let you know what we find.”

“Thanks,” I tell her then watch her and the other woman leave the room. After putting on my sweater, Sven takes my hand and leads me out of the hospital to the SUV and helps me inside, making sure I’m buckled before going around the front to get behind the wheel. Once we’re halfway home, I look over at him, realizing he hasn’t spoken.

“Are you okay?” Lifting my hand to his lips, he kisses my fingers then says something against them I can’t make out as he drops our entwined hands to his thigh. “What was that?” I ask, studying his profile.

“We didn’t use protection.”

Blinking, I wonder if I heard him correctly then blink again as his fingers tighten around mine. “It sounded like you just said we didn’t use protection.”

“I did.”

“As in condoms?” I ask, and his face turns toward me as he pulls up to a stop sign. “Holy crap.”

“I assumed.”

“You assumed,” I repeat, because apparently that’s all I can do as I study him.

“Fuck.”

“Ditto,” I whisper back then blabber, “The chance of getting pregnant from having sex once is like almost nonexistent right? I mean, that kind of thing doesn’t happen like ev—”

“Four times.”

“What?” I breathe, looking over at him.

“It was four times, not once.” He clarifies.

“Four?”

“Four,” he repeats, turning onto our block.

And I don’t remember even one time. “Was it even good?” I ask without thinking.

“The best I’ve ever had,” he says immediately.

“I was a virgin,” I whisper, wondering how the heck I could possibly be the best he ever had when I had never done it before.

“I know, and it kills me that you don’t remember.”

“Well,” I mutter, having no clue what to say now.

“I guarantee you will remember the next time,” he says as he pulls into the driveway and shuts down the engine.

Oh wow, okay.

Without another word, he gets out, comes around to help me down, and then leads me inside and upstairs. Pulling his hand when we reach the top landing, his eyes come to me. “That’s my room,” I tell him with a nod of my head toward my door.

“You’re sleeping with me.”

“Um…”

“Sleep, Mags.”

“I…” I mutter trying to come up with something to say.

“Let’s go.” He tugs my hand. I follow him past my door and into his room then into his bathroom where he set’s up his toothbrush for me. Without a word I brush my teeth while watching him watch me in the mirror. When I finish I watch as he uses his toothbrush. When he’s done, he takes my hand again, letting it go when I’m standing at the side of the bed. I watch him kick off his shoes and pull his shirt off over his head. “Come here.” He takes a seat on the side of the bed then drags me to stand between his spread thighs.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he unbuttons my shorts and slides them down over my hips, letting them fall to the floor leaving me in a pair of cotton boy shorts.

“You need sleep,” he mutters, pulling my sweater off my shoulders, letting it join my shorts, and then he runs his hands up my back, under my tank, unhooking my bra.

“Sven,” I whisper to the top of his head.

“Just sleep, I promise, baby.” He kisses my stomach then reaches under the strap of my tank top to slide my bra straps down my arms. He pulls each of my hands out gently before coasting his up my stomach, under my tank, making my muscles tense as he grasp the front of my bra and pulls it out, dropping it to the ground.