Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and rub Sulli’s thigh softly, keeping her calm.
He shakes his head at me like he can’t say. The leaks. Right.
“Did I do something…?” Sulli asks.
“No,” Banks says quickly. “It was me.”
Pulling a hand away from Sulli, he shows us the condom between his fingers.
It’s ripped.
55
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
This can’t be happening. Like I know condoms aren’t made out of impenetrable material, but fuck, they should be! Banks 100% came inside of me.
Which would be sexier if I were on birth control.
Cum. Literal cum fuck.
I could roll the dice. Not take Plan B.
But the anxiety that rushes up is enough to push me towards a drugstore. Banks and Akara offered to go for me. Just so I can avoid the paparazzi.
Fucking tempting. Especially after the flour-bomb. But I thought about Wise Words from Maximoff & Jane, and they’d tell me not to hermit away from the world. When the HaleCocest rumor circulated, my cousins actively went into the world with the FanCon Tour. And I want to be with Banks and Akara as they adventure off to the drugstore.
I don’t want to miss out.
Twenty minutes into the car ride to the drugstore, paparazzi chase after Booger. I sink further in the backseat. Luckily, they’re easier to shake off than after the New Year’s Eve party. Evening Philly traffic is worse than the media right now.
Banks loses the tail and parks beside a curb, right outside the drugstore.
Over a week has passed since Banks and I confirmed our relationship, and it’s obvious that’s the reason paparazzi are less aggressive and less active around me. It’s not as juicy as the triad rumor.
Even the swimmers at Warwick cranked down their whispering around me. Coach Reed boasted about keeping Banks and my relationship a secret. I’ll give him some credit. He never fucking blabbed about the half-truth Akara told him at the pizzeria.
The big kicker: Fans online speculate the leak’s validity, and I think most truly believe that the idea of a poly relationship is too unusual and outlandish to be real.
It is real.
I hop out of Booger. The black-furred Newfie leaps out behind me. Holding Orion’s stars-and-planets leash tight, I make sure this burst of puppy energy doesn’t race off. With Luna in class today and visiting Eliot and Tom tonight, I offered to dog-sit.
Orion races for the nearest tree by the parking meter. “Good boy,” I tell him, then check left and right. Akara and Banks are already scanning our surroundings.
No paparazzi. No fans in sight. Mayhem gone. What a fucking reprieve. Guilt tugs at me for even letting out a breath of relief. Being relieved is like sticking a gold star next to Akara’s break-up plan, and I want to X it out of existence.
When their tense features seem to unwind in an all-clear, Akara says to Banks, “I just don’t see how it happened. You were being careful.”
We haven’t spoken about the condom break until the last few minutes of the car ride when paparazzi stopped eating our ass.
Banks grimaces, torn up. “It might’ve been the position.”
I elbow his side. “It’s not your fault.” Orion starts peeing, and I turn my back so he can take a leak in semi-private.
Banks narrows his gaze down the street. “Whose fault could it be then, the fuckin’ Boogeyman?”
“The Boogeyman is totally to fucking blame. And the condom manufacturer and the person who created condoms and—”
“The size of my cock,” he says pointedly.
“No,” I shoot back.
“She’s right,” Akara says, surveying the street too, then eyeing him. “This isn’t on you.”
Banks eases a little. “Alright, I’m cool like the wind.”
“Are you?” I question.
“No,” he admits, “but I’m trying to be. Putting you in this position is never gonna sit right with me. That’s all.” He lifts his shoulders. Banks cares more about me.
Have I been freaking out about a pregnancy?
Is the sky fucking blue?
I had a “panic” face apparently in the car. To which I told them it was a two-thirds “pregnant panic” and one-third “paparazzi panic”. Their concern blanketed me all the way here.
I keep imagining Banks’ sperm swimming up inside me. Please do not create a literal Mini Meadows. I want to be a mom on my own timeline. No accidents.
Banks stares deeper into me.
I breathe in, and I step closer. “You know—if I had to go through this with anyone, I’m just glad it’s you and Akara and not someone like Will Rochester.” My ex-boyfriend was nice, but I already know I would’ve been calling up Kits and Banks to help me get Plan B. In every scenario, they’re the ones I trust the most.
They each have my whole fucking heart.
Banks wears that almost-smile. He curves an arm around my shoulders. Hugging me. He whispers in my ear, “I’m here for you, Sulli. Whatever you need.”
I hug back just as strong.