Guilt pricks my throat. Hard.
“And now he’s going to take the first job he finds, instead of opening a business that he’s actually taken the time to research and think about.” Dean shakes his head. “Don’t you see that?”
I falter. He’s right. Tucker doesn’t half-ass it. And yet here he is, moving in with a guy he barely likes, considering buying shitty franchises he’s not passionate about, and all because I was so overcome with lust one night that I forgot that “just the tip” is as effective in knocking you up as having a guy ejaculate in you.
He’s changing his entire life for me. He’s changing his goals and his plans and his lifestyle to accommodate this baby. And I’m the one who caused him to do that.
Despite my threat about clawing Dean’s eyes out, I don’t feel at all feral anymore. I feel…wrecked.
So wrecked that I’m helpless to stop the sob that flies out. So wrecked that I fall apart right in front of Dean fucking Di Laurentis.
I sink to the floor and bury my face in my hands, crying so hard that I can’t even draw a breath. I gasp for air while hot tears slide down my cheeks and soak my palms. I’m a shuddering, pathetic, pregnant mess, and it’s not until a firm hand clasps my shoulder that I realize Dean is sitting on the floor beside me.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, sounding as helpless as I feel. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I deserve to cry,” I choke out between sobs.
“Sabrina—” He touches my shoulder again.
“No!” I wrench away from his grip and stare at him with tear-filled eyes. “You’re right, okay? I’m ruining his life! Do you think I’m fucking happy about that? Because I’m not!” I gulp rapidly, trying to remember how to breathe. “He’s kind and sweet and so goddamn incredible and he doesn’t deserve to have his world turned upside down like this! He should be making all these plans right now and being excited about graduating college and starting a new chapter in his life, and instead it’s end of fucking story. The best guy on this whole planet is stuck with me—forever—all because of what was supposed to be a one-time hookup!”
I finish in a panting rush, viciously swiping at my tears. Beside me, Dean looks totally and utterly stunned.
“Aw hell,” he finally says. “You do love him.”
I hang my head. “Yes.”
“But you haven’t told him.”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because…” My face collapses again. “Because I’m trying to make this as easy as I can for him. Love complicates things, and shit is complicated enough right now. And…”
“And what?” Dean asks.
And I don’t know if he loves me back.
Sometimes I think he does, but in the back of my mind there’s always a little nugget of doubt. I’m honestly not certain if Tucker wants to be with me because he loves me, or because he thinks we should be together for the sake of our baby.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say hoarsely. “You’re right. This baby is screwing up his plans.” I wipe my face again. “The least I can do is make sure it doesn’t ruin more than it has to. I’ll take on the bulk of the responsibility. That’ll free up a lot of his time so that he can open a business he loves.”
Dean hesitates. “What about Harvard?”
“I’m still going.” Bitterness joins the sorrow clinging to my throat. “Don’t worry, you’ll have three more years to hate me and call me a bitch.”
“Actually, I won’t be there,” he confesses.
I frown. “Since when?”
“I accepted a teaching job at a private school in Manhattan.” He shrugs. “I realized law school isn’t where I want to be.”
“Oh.” I wonder why Tucker didn’t mention that, but I guess it doesn’t surprise me. He’s already admitted that Dean hasn’t exactly been Mr. Supportive about the baby.
“After Beau died,” Dean starts, but his voice cracks and he stops to clear his throat. “After he died, I kind of went batshit crazy for a while. But then I crawled out of the hole I dug for myself and really took stock of my life, you know?”
I nod slowly. Joanna Maxwell had done the same thing. So had I. Beau’s death made me realize how important life is, how short it can be. I wonder if losing Beau was a game-changer for everyone who knew and cared about him.
“It changed stuff for me too,” I confess.
It’s Dean’s turn to nod. “I can tell.” He pauses ruefully. “Sometimes I can’t believe you and I ever hooked up. It seems like a million years ago.”
I manage a laugh. “Yup.”
“You really love Tuck, huh?”
“I do.”
He lets out a heavy breath. “You should tell him.”
“No.” I swallow. “And you’re not going to tell him either.”
“He needs to know—”
“No,” I repeat, firmer this time. “I mean it, Dean. Don’t say anything to him. You owe me.”
Humor flickers in his eyes. “How do you figure?”
I jut out my chin. “You didn’t deserve that A in Statistics sophomore year.”
“Ah. So keeping my mouth shut is my punishment for the undeserved grade?”
“So you admit it was undeserved!”
“Of course it was.” His tone becomes pained. “Trust me, I did everything I could to try to get the professor to fail me.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. After I aced that project we teamed up on and you only got a B, I realized the TA was fucking around with my grades. I asked the prof to go over all my tests and papers, and turns out I was supposed to be failing.”
“Oh my God. I knew it.” Though I don’t feel as smug about it as I thought I would. My beef with Dean suddenly feels incredibly unimportant. And, like he said, as if it happened a million years ago.
“Well, I didn’t,” he says frankly. “I know you think I was boning the TA for the grades—” He flashes a grin, “—but I was boning her because she had a great rack and the sweetest ass.”
I pretend to gag before going serious. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
“And now he’s going to take the first job he finds, instead of opening a business that he’s actually taken the time to research and think about.” Dean shakes his head. “Don’t you see that?”
I falter. He’s right. Tucker doesn’t half-ass it. And yet here he is, moving in with a guy he barely likes, considering buying shitty franchises he’s not passionate about, and all because I was so overcome with lust one night that I forgot that “just the tip” is as effective in knocking you up as having a guy ejaculate in you.
He’s changing his entire life for me. He’s changing his goals and his plans and his lifestyle to accommodate this baby. And I’m the one who caused him to do that.
Despite my threat about clawing Dean’s eyes out, I don’t feel at all feral anymore. I feel…wrecked.
So wrecked that I’m helpless to stop the sob that flies out. So wrecked that I fall apart right in front of Dean fucking Di Laurentis.
I sink to the floor and bury my face in my hands, crying so hard that I can’t even draw a breath. I gasp for air while hot tears slide down my cheeks and soak my palms. I’m a shuddering, pathetic, pregnant mess, and it’s not until a firm hand clasps my shoulder that I realize Dean is sitting on the floor beside me.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, sounding as helpless as I feel. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I deserve to cry,” I choke out between sobs.
“Sabrina—” He touches my shoulder again.
“No!” I wrench away from his grip and stare at him with tear-filled eyes. “You’re right, okay? I’m ruining his life! Do you think I’m fucking happy about that? Because I’m not!” I gulp rapidly, trying to remember how to breathe. “He’s kind and sweet and so goddamn incredible and he doesn’t deserve to have his world turned upside down like this! He should be making all these plans right now and being excited about graduating college and starting a new chapter in his life, and instead it’s end of fucking story. The best guy on this whole planet is stuck with me—forever—all because of what was supposed to be a one-time hookup!”
I finish in a panting rush, viciously swiping at my tears. Beside me, Dean looks totally and utterly stunned.
“Aw hell,” he finally says. “You do love him.”
I hang my head. “Yes.”
“But you haven’t told him.”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because…” My face collapses again. “Because I’m trying to make this as easy as I can for him. Love complicates things, and shit is complicated enough right now. And…”
“And what?” Dean asks.
And I don’t know if he loves me back.
Sometimes I think he does, but in the back of my mind there’s always a little nugget of doubt. I’m honestly not certain if Tucker wants to be with me because he loves me, or because he thinks we should be together for the sake of our baby.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say hoarsely. “You’re right. This baby is screwing up his plans.” I wipe my face again. “The least I can do is make sure it doesn’t ruin more than it has to. I’ll take on the bulk of the responsibility. That’ll free up a lot of his time so that he can open a business he loves.”
Dean hesitates. “What about Harvard?”
“I’m still going.” Bitterness joins the sorrow clinging to my throat. “Don’t worry, you’ll have three more years to hate me and call me a bitch.”
“Actually, I won’t be there,” he confesses.
I frown. “Since when?”
“I accepted a teaching job at a private school in Manhattan.” He shrugs. “I realized law school isn’t where I want to be.”
“Oh.” I wonder why Tucker didn’t mention that, but I guess it doesn’t surprise me. He’s already admitted that Dean hasn’t exactly been Mr. Supportive about the baby.
“After Beau died,” Dean starts, but his voice cracks and he stops to clear his throat. “After he died, I kind of went batshit crazy for a while. But then I crawled out of the hole I dug for myself and really took stock of my life, you know?”
I nod slowly. Joanna Maxwell had done the same thing. So had I. Beau’s death made me realize how important life is, how short it can be. I wonder if losing Beau was a game-changer for everyone who knew and cared about him.
“It changed stuff for me too,” I confess.
It’s Dean’s turn to nod. “I can tell.” He pauses ruefully. “Sometimes I can’t believe you and I ever hooked up. It seems like a million years ago.”
I manage a laugh. “Yup.”
“You really love Tuck, huh?”
“I do.”
He lets out a heavy breath. “You should tell him.”
“No.” I swallow. “And you’re not going to tell him either.”
“He needs to know—”
“No,” I repeat, firmer this time. “I mean it, Dean. Don’t say anything to him. You owe me.”
Humor flickers in his eyes. “How do you figure?”
I jut out my chin. “You didn’t deserve that A in Statistics sophomore year.”
“Ah. So keeping my mouth shut is my punishment for the undeserved grade?”
“So you admit it was undeserved!”
“Of course it was.” His tone becomes pained. “Trust me, I did everything I could to try to get the professor to fail me.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. After I aced that project we teamed up on and you only got a B, I realized the TA was fucking around with my grades. I asked the prof to go over all my tests and papers, and turns out I was supposed to be failing.”
“Oh my God. I knew it.” Though I don’t feel as smug about it as I thought I would. My beef with Dean suddenly feels incredibly unimportant. And, like he said, as if it happened a million years ago.
“Well, I didn’t,” he says frankly. “I know you think I was boning the TA for the grades—” He flashes a grin, “—but I was boning her because she had a great rack and the sweetest ass.”
I pretend to gag before going serious. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”
