That didn’t go well.

I kick my feet up onto my couch and bury my head under some blankets and pillows. I scream into it for a second, trying to get this anger and frustration out of me.

I shouldn’t have told Aaron like that. That was stupid and selfish and I was a total jerk to him for no reason. Well, I mean, I have a good reason to be angry with him, but if I’m honest, I’m really angry with myself.

This shouldn’t have happened. When I was younger, the doctors told me I have what’s called a “lazy ovary.” It means I ovulate, but rarely and randomly, so I never really know when there’s an egg and when there isn’t. The doctor told me it’s highly unlikely that I’d ever get pregnant, and so I’ve been living my life assuming that it would never, ever happen.

Obviously, that was a stupid idea.

I wish they were just a little lazier. I mean, did I really have to be ovulating on that exact night? It was stupid to fuck him without protection, and I’m just as much to blame as he is, probably even more. Still, I can’t help but feel irrationally angry at him. I mean, he got me pregnant. This is all his fault, and I’m the one left with the baby, not him.

Now he knows. I told him the wrong way, basically while throwing a tantrum, but now he knows. He’s been calling all day, even followed me back to my desk before I glared at him and told him to fuck off in a harsh whisper. That made him go away, but only temporarily. He was calling me ten minutes later, but I haven’t answered him yet.

I can’t answer him. I check my phone and sigh. Ten missed calls, although he hasn’t tried in the last half hour. Maybe he’s figuring it out. I don’t want to talk to him about anything, let alone about this baby.

I’m putting it up for adoption. Boy or girl, I don’t care. I can’t go through with an abortion, mostly because I’m afraid and my doctor told me there may be unforeseen complications due to my condition, so that option’s off the table. I’m going to carry this baby to term, give birth to it, and give it away to some happy, healthy family that deserves a child but can’t have one. I’ll move on with my life, maybe have babies some day in the future, or maybe not. But I know for a fact that I’m not ready to have any right now, especially not with Aaron Ward.

I can’t believe my brother’s best friend got me pregnant. I mean, it’s almost like a freaking cliché. Davis is going to be so pissed when he finds out. Maybe I can get away with not telling him who the father is, since it really doesn’t matter at the end of the day, but I know he’s going to ask. I’m still close with him, which is normally a good thing, but not so much right now.

I groan to myself. I want a glass of wine to help me relax, but I can’t. There’s a lot of stuff I can’t eat or drink now, and I feel like shit all the time, and my ankles are swollen. Like, my freaking ankles are swollen, all because I fucked Aaron like a moron.

It was a good night, though. Such a freaking good night. I’ve never experienced anything like him before. He was so passionate and intense, and he knew just how to work my body. I was sweating and panting and ready for more as soon as it was over, and I could tell he was going to give it to me, if only I would let him.

But I can’t be thinking about that right now. It doesn’t matter anymore. This is my situation, and I have to figure out how to deal with it. I’m going to be working with Aaron for the foreseeable future, and I suspect he’s going to keep pushing me into helping him with his stuff. I don’t want anything to do with it, but I also can’t let myself lose control again.

There has to be a balance between hating him and wanting to fuck him, and I better find it quick.

As I pull myself up and think about getting something to eat, there’s a knock at my apartment door. I hesitate a second, figuring it’s probably a package or something, but the knock comes again.

I get up and walk over with a frown. The person knocks a third time, so I look out the peephole and into the hallway.

Aaron’s standing there looking worried.

I pull back, breathing fast. What the hell is he doing here?

“Riley, let me in,” he calls out. “I know you’re there. I heard your footsteps.”

“Shit,” I say under my breath.

“I heard that,” he answers.

“Ah, crap.” I sigh and pull the door open slightly, glaring out at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I just want to talk.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Not important. Can I please come in?”

“Tell me how you found my place.”

He hesitates. “Stole it from HR, okay?”

I blink, surprised. “Really?”

“Really. It’s not exactly Fort Knox, you know. Seriously, can I come in? We need to talk.”

I hesitate. I want to send him packing, but I know I shouldn’t. I step aside and embrace this moment. It was bound to happen sooner or later, anyway. I can’t keep putting this off, even if I only succeeded in doing so for a few hours.

He heads inside, looking around. “Nice place,” he says.

“Thanks.” I lead him into the kitchen and I sit him down at the table. “Let’s make this fast, okay?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You told me that you’re pregnant earlier, and you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I know.” I look at my nails, at the floor, anywhere but at his gorgeous green eyes. “So what?”

“So what?” He laughs again. “Riley, that’s batshit insane, you know that, right?”

I look up at him, anger flaring. “Don’t call me crazy.”

“Don’t act crazy.” He sighs and puts up his hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Look, I just want to know… is it true, did I really get you pregnant?”

I let out a breath. I want to keep raging at him, but he looks so…. Handsome. And sad. And sorry. Blah, maybe I should try not being a bitch for one second.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s true.”

He nods once. “Okay. How?”

I blink. “Well, when a man loves a woman…”

“No, I mean, you told me you can’t get pregnant.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Or were you lying?”

I wince. “I wasn’t lying. It’s just… complicated.”

“Explain.”

I groan a little bit, but I know I have to, so I launch into the whole lazy ovary thing while he listens intently.

“Okay, I think I get it,” he says finally when I finish. “It’s not that you can’t get pregnant, it’s just… super unlikely.”

“Right,” I say. “Like incredibly unlikely.”

“So we got unlucky?” He hesitates. “Or maybe we got lucky.”

I fix my stare on him. “Unlucky,” I say firmly.

“Fine.” He shrugs. “Whatever. What now?”

“What now?” I echo. “Now, nothing. Now we go back to work and pretend like this never happened.”

“Gonna be hard to do that when you’re, you know, big.”

“I’m not going to get ‘big,’ asshole,” I say.

“You know what I mean. When you’re super pregnant.”

I just shrug a little bit. I don’t want to admit that I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “It won’t be a big deal,” I say instead.

“Maybe, but you’re carrying my child. I mean, come on, Riley. This is…”

He was about to say “crazy” but he stops himself.

“This is hard,” I finish for him.

“Yeah. It’s hard.”

“Look, I can make it easy, okay?” I get up and walk away from him, over to the counter. “I’m not having an abortion.”

His eyes go wide again. “I would never ask you to.”

“Right, sure.”

“No, seriously. I would never ask that of you. I wouldn’t… I don’t want that.”

“Oh. Okay.” I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised. I feel flustered, but I go ahead anyway. “So that means adoption. There are lots of families out there that would love to give this baby a good home so… that’s what I’ll do.”

He nods slowly, watching me carefully. “That’s hard,” he says finally.

“This whole thing is hard,” I bite back.

He smiles a little, shrugging off my angry tone. “I understand,” he says.

“Do you?” I cock my head at him, feeling that anger starting to get out of control. “You’re not the one that has to have this baby. You don’t have to do anything. I don’t want you around.”

He winces and actually looks hurt, which makes me immediately regret saying that. He gathers himself together, though, and slowly stands up, his eyes locked on mine.

“I get it, you’re better than me,” he says, taking a step closer. “You think you’re above selling and above people that sell. You’re the genius girl that’s improving this product, and I’m just some suit and tie, isn’t that right?”

“I didn’t—” I start, but he interrupts me.

“I get it. You can hate me all you want, and honestly, I’m starting to feel the same way. But like it or not, we have to work together, and you’re carrying my baby.”

I stare at him. “It’s not your baby.”

He hesitates. “Yes, it is.”

“You got me pregnant. But it’s not yours.”

That makes him nod and come closer. “It’s absolutely mine, and you think you can give it up for adoption.” He cocks his head at me. “What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

I stare at him and clench the counter. “You don’t have any control over that,” I say.

“You’re wrong.” He stops and he’s so close to me, just like that night. I want to feel him reach out and grab my wrist again like he did earlier today. I want to feel his touch so badly, but I also want to slap him across his handsome fucking face.

“What can you do?”

“I’ll raise my baby,” he says, his voice low, his deep green eyes locked on mine. “I’ll take care of it.”

I hesitate. I never imagined for a second that he’d want to be a part of this baby’s life. It seems crazy that he’s saying this, and I can’t imagine that he has any clue what he’s getting himself into.

But the way he’s looking at me… I think he’s serious. In fact, I know he is. I believe him completely when he says he’ll take this baby.

It scares the hell out of me.

“It’s my baby,” he says again. I slip away, moving past him and toward the door.

“No, it isn’t.” I turn and cross my arms. “But if you want the baby, I can’t stop you.”

He cocks his head and watches me. I feel naked under his gaze for some reason, and I have to look away.

We stand in silence for a second like that. I can’t stop picturing his hands on my skin, and I hate him so much, but I want him so badly. It’s so confusing, and the way he’s looking at me isn’t helping at all.

Finally, he shakes his head and follows me to my front door. “I’ll see you at work,” he says as he leaves.

I slam the door behind him. “Jerk,” I mumble as I lock my bolt and throw myself back onto the couch.

If he wants to raise this baby, what’s it matter? It’s strange, but some part of me keeps picturing what it would be like to raise the baby with him, with a white picket fence and all that crap, the sort of stuff I never thought would be mine. I always pictured myself as an engineer, building things and living the single life. That was enough for me, at least until now.

It’s scary how fast things can change. All it took was one night with Aaron, and now I don’t know if I hate him, or if I want to be his wife.