She was actually hoping he could tell her there’d been other condoms he’d somehow disposed of himself, by flushing them down the toilet or whatever. But that didn’t seem very likely. How many men carried more than one or two condoms in their wallets?
The door cracked open, and he peered out at her.
“It’s me.” Bracing herself for whatever reaction she was going to get, she drew a deep breath. “I need to speak with you for a minute.”
He said nothing, just swung the door wide enough to let her in, and stepped back.
She walked in and closed it behind her. Lord knew she didn’t want anyone else overhearing what she planned to discuss.
“What is it?” he asked, immediately defensive. “I can’t stay tonight? You want me to move out right now? What?”
“No.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’re fine here until...tomorrow. Or...whenever.”
His face cleared as he sat on the bed. “You seem nervous.”
“I am, a little,” she admitted.
He studied her closely. “If you’re here because...because you want more of what we shared last night, you don’t have to be nervous. The answer’s yes—as long as there are no strings attached. I have certain...limitations.”
Was he serious? From what Eve could tell, he was. But how could he believe she might come back for more after the way he’d tried to distance himself? And what made him think she’d settle for an offer like that?
The shock must’ve shown on her face, because a smile slanted his lips. “I guess your expression answers that question.”
“I’m not...coming on to you,” she explained. “I’m not a ‘no strings attached’ kind of girl.”
“You’re here for some reason.”
“Yes.” She wandered over to the window so she could break eye contact with him. “I’m here because...because I was wondering...”
The bed creaked as he got up. “About...”
She made herself turn to face him. “You know that condom wrapper?”
“We’re back to that?”
“Do you carry quite a few of those?”
“I can always get more,” he said, eyebrows raised.
She rubbed her hands on her thighs. “I’m wondering how many you had to begin with?”
It wasn’t difficult to discern the exact moment he clued in to what she was trying to establish. A distinct wariness entered his eyes. “Why?”
“Why do you think?” she asked. “I don’t know what you remember about last night, but I remember making love three different times.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes! Did you have that many condoms?”
When he didn’t respond, she added, “And if you did, did we use them? I mean...maybe you sleep around enough that you carry a whole box. But it wasn’t as if you had your vehicle, so...that means you had only what you were carrying on your person.”
He bowed his head as he leaned against the wall. “Shit.”
She winced. “That’s a no, right?”
“I had just the one. And it was pretty old. But are you certain—”
“I’m positive. There was—” she lowered her voice “—the first time when we didn’t quite make it to the bedroom, remember? And then the second time, we did find the bed. After that, I’m pretty sure there was one more, when we woke up a couple of hours later.”
“That was when I had to move you down so you didn’t hit the headboard.”
She felt her face flush. “Yeah. So at least three.”
He nodded solemnly. “That’s when I used the condom.”
Her stomach knotted. “But you didn’t use anything before?”
“I couldn’t have.”
“And you didn’t know that?”
He threw up a hand. “Maybe I was mentally avoiding the possibility of...consequences by assuming they were all one time.”
She bit her lip. “Oh, boy.”
“So I take it you’re not on birth control or anything—” He cut himself off. “Never mind. I don’t even have to ask. If you haven’t been sleeping with anyone, you wouldn’t need to.”
He rubbed his forehead. “So where are you at with your...you know...your cycle? Is there any chance you might have been fertile?”
She’d already counted the days. She’d wanted to be prepared before she spoke with him. “I’m afraid we couldn’t have planned it any better if we’d been trying to conceive.”
At that, he went pale. “I see.”
“That doesn’t mean I am pregnant,” she said. “Chances are just as good that I’m not. We’ll hope for the best. But if I am...I won’t have an abortion or put the baby up for adoption.”
“Okay,” he said, as if that news was as unwelcome as the possibility of a pregnancy.
“I’m sorry that disappoints you.”
“I’m not sure it does. I just...I don’t know what to say to all this.”
“You don’t have to say anything until we find out. If I’m pregnant, I’ll have and raise the baby alone. But...since you’re in a situation where you’ll be leaving soon, I’d like to know exactly who I’m dealing with.”
He began to pace, head down. “I showed my ID when I checked in,” he muttered, but that was hardly convincing.
“So you’re Brent Taylor? Or are you Taylor Jackson?”
He stopped to look at her, his jaw hard. “You’ve been snooping through my things?”
“Not like you think. But someone had to clean your room, and I noticed the luggage tag.”
“I borrowed a suitcase from a friend.”
“Brent Taylor is your real name, then.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Can I get some contact information, too? Just in case.”
He rubbed his forehead again, as if he needed a moment to regroup, or didn’t like the thought of giving her what she’d asked. That was more than slightly off-putting.
“I promise I won’t contact you unless absolutely necessary,” she added, her voice showing her irritation.
“You don’t understand,” he started, but then he stopped. “Never mind. I don’t have any good contact information right now. I’m in a...transitional period. I’ll have to check back with you. But I’ll do my part. Don’t worry about that.”
Did he expect her to rely on his integrity when she didn’t even know if he had any? She opened her mouth to tell him that was asking a bit much, but he didn’t let her get that far.
“I realize that requires a great deal of trust,” he said. “But I’m hoping you can manage it if...if I’m also trusting you.”
Feeling a chill, although it wasn’t that cold in the room, she rubbed her arms. “In what way?”
He seemed to be thinking fast, trying to come up with an arrangement that would be fair. “Do you have medical insurance?”
“I