“No offense, Will, but right now Ben’s feelings aren’t my top priority.” I join him at the window, peering out as my dad leans up against the truck, chatting with Ivy. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to see you caring about someone besides yourself for a change, but c’mon. You’ve known Ben for like a day? How do you know we can trust him when it comes to pulling one over on Lauren?”

“What do you mean?” Will asks, narrowing his eyes.

“What if, in the meantime, Lauren cuts a deal with his brother? Reinstates his job at the school? Pays him off? He’s going to say anything she tells him to say and we’ll never be able to separate her lies from what really happened between him and Cassidy.” I step closer, watching my breath fog up the glass. “Can you really consider Ben such a valuable ally?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Will shrugs, lowering his head. “But don’t you want to know if it’s true? What if Cassidy’s baby wasn’t even yours?”

I grab the collar of Will’s shirt, shoving him up against the wall. “Don’t test me, asshole. Not today.”

“All right, dude. Chill’ax, okay?” Will urges, breathing heavily. “But you’re going to have to deal with this shit. I’m just trying to help. It’s not like you have a ton of people you can talk to about it. You need to get your head on straight for Ivy’s sake.”

“Let me be the one to worry about Ivy.” I release my hold on him and he massages his throat. “Stay the fuck out of it. Understand?”

“Bro, you’ve got some serious anger issues you need to work on,” Will remarks, adjusting his shirt. “Just saying.” He retreats, holding up his hands while backing away.

“You don’t think I know that?” I’m disgusted with myself for allowing him to see this side of me. I’m usually so good at keeping it hidden. But after today’s events, my willpower is starting to crack.

“Well, I wouldn’t advise getting back in that truck if you’re just going to go home and take it out on her.” Will’s stare is intense, even as he clutches his side, trying to catch his breath.

He’s right. I have to get a grip on my emotions. I can’t go out there like this. Ivy needs me. I have to be strong for her sake. I can’t let her down.

“She could die, Will,” I spit out, biting my lip to keep my emotions in check.

“I know, man. I know,” Will says consolingly. “But we’re not going to let that happen, right?” He slaps me on the shoulder, encouraging me to suck it up. “Just remember, Ivy isn’t Cassidy.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I mutter. “I’m realizing that more and more each day. But if the same thing happens—”

“Ut uh, don’t even go there. Just turn yourself around and get the hell out of my sight. I’ve had enough of looking at your ugly mug for one day,” Will smirks at me, gesturing toward the door.

“Don’t you want a ride up to the house?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Nah, I’m gonna stick around here a little longer. See if I can work on obtaining that leverage I mentioned,” Will responds, and I don’t have to turn around to know that he’s staring at Ben. “Don’t wait up.”

I still find it weird that the two guys I was envious of are actually into each other, but I shake my head and let it pass. Whatever makes them happy, I suppose.

Darkness is falling as I approach the truck. Ivy already has the headlights on and the engine running, waiting for me. It appears my father went back inside with Shep. It’s getting colder out, and I rezip my jacket before getting behind the wheel.

“You were gone long,” Ivy comments. The heater’s cranked up full blast and country music is filtering through the speakers.

“Yeah, some things needed sorting out.” I hate keeping things from her, but now is not the time. I’ll fill her in when she’s feeling better. She looks so worn out sitting there, shivering. “Are you still cold?”

“I’m freezing. I feel like I can’t get warm.” She has her hands pressed up against the vents, trying to soak up the heat.

“Come here.” I stretch my arm across the back of the seat, inviting her to curl up next to me until we get home. “I’ll warm you up.”

“Mmmm, just the thing I need,” she giggles, nestling herself against me.

I reach down to take one of her hands in mine. “Ivy! Your hands are like ice.” I hit the brake and lower my arm to rub her tiny hands between mine to get the circulation going. “Is that better?”

“Almost,” she says, looking at me from beneath her eyelashes. “But you know what would really help?”

“What?” I ask, ready to give her whatever she wants.

“Having you in the shower with me,” she responds playfully. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Ivy,” I moan, turning my attention back to the road.

“You seem tense,” she says, studying my reaction. “I don’t know what went down between you and Will back there, but just let it go.”

“Already forgotten,” I reply, smiling down at her.

“Good,” she chuckles, sliding my arm around her shoulders. “Frank is going to keep Shep at his house for a while, so we’ll have the cabin all to ourselves.”

“Ivy, you heard what the doctor said. We can’t—” I protest.

“Have sex. I know,” she grumbles as I pull up to the porch. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other.”

“You need to relax,” I admonish, getting out to help her down. “I have no problem helping you wash up, but that’s it. No fooling around.”

“But I want you in there with me,” she demands as I lift her out of the truck, carrying her in my arms. “Naked,” she whispers in my ear, and I immediately feel my dick stiffen.

I climb the porch steps, trying to ignore what she said. She’s already reaching into the front pocket of my jeans, and my arms start to tremble. “Ivy, don’t—” I manage to utter as she fingers me.

“I’m just reaching for your keys, silly,” she feigns innocence. “We have to get in the house.” She draws them out slowly, making sure the jagged edges graze my length along the way. The sensation causes my knees to buckle, forcing me to brace myself against the doorframe. “Don’t drop me,” she laughs, hanging on to me tightly as she slides the key into the knob.

Finally, we’re in and I don’t waste any time, kicking the door shut. So many memories are racing through my head. Straddling her on my lap the first time I kissed her. Pinning her up against the wall the night I rescued her from behind the pizzeria. Tearing her out of her dress before I slipped inside of her. It’s killing me that I can’t do any of those things to her now.

It’s chilly in here. The fire is out. I’ll have to build another one. But first, I have to warm her up. Striding up the steps, I enter our room. The bed is unmade after our abrupt departure this morning. I’m afraid to go in the kitchen. There are probably bloodstains all over the table. I’ll clean it up later. I don’t want Ivy to be reminded of what almost happened, and it strengthens my resolve to keep my hands to myself as I move into the bathroom.

Lowering her gently, I turn on the shower to get the hot water going. She stands before me with a pout on her face. Instead, I bend down and unlace her sneakers. Next, I concentrate on removing her sweatpants as she places her hands on my shoulders. She’s wearing a pair of high-waist briefs the hospital gave her, not one of her sexy thongs. I would normally tease her about her new granny panties, but I’m terrified. What if she’s still bleeding? I gather my courage and start pulling them over her hips. Her breathing increases as the pad that was wedged up against her comes into view. There’s a bright red stain on it, but it’s moderate, nothing heavy. The flow has eased since this morning.

“Eric, I think I need to sit down,” Ivy says, grasping her head. “I feel a little dizzy.”

I shift my weight, putting one arm around her waist to hold her steady. I back her up slowly, placing her onto the toilet. I step away to give her some space while sliding the briefs over her ankles. There are goose bumps covering her legs. The sooner I get her in the shower, the better.

“I have to pee,” she says weakly. “Do you mind waiting outside the door?”

This is one of her little quirks. No matter how intimate we’ve become, she doesn’t like me in the bathroom with her when she has to go—and vice versa. One time I nonchalantly came in to urinate while she was brushing her teeth at the sink and I thought she was going to castrate me on the spot. It’s one of her pet peeves, but now I’m not so sure I should give in to her.

“What if you pass out and hit your head?” I ask, not wanting to leave her side.

“Eric, please. I’m begging you. I can’t hold it anymore,” she whimpers, pushing me away.

Dr. P. said her hormones might be out of whack, especially with that new prescription he put her on. One minute she’s horny, the next she’s crying. Talk about being on an emotional roller coaster. Nothing’s more erratic than the mood swings of a pregnant woman.

I get up without further argument and stand just inside the bedroom. I can just about hear her steady stream over the noise of the shower.

“Close the door!” she yells, mortified.

“Then how I am I going to know when you’re done?” I question her.

“I’ll tell you!” she shouts back.

I know better than to argue with her extreme modesty when it comes to her bathroom habits. There’s no changing her now. She is the way she is. I’ve never really lived with a girl before. I don’t know if they’re all like that or if it’s just her. All I know is that guys could care less who they pee in front of.

A few seconds later, I hear the toilet flush, but I wait for her signal.

“I’m done,” she calls out, so I slip back in. She’s already trying to remove her sweatshirt and I help her pull her arms through. She’s now completely naked as she stands in front of me, self-consciously crossing her arms in front of her chest.