Chapter 21

21

18 years old - Lily

B ryce looks at me with fury in his icy blue eyes. His lips are parted like he wants to say something, but no words are coming out, just exasperated groans. I knew this conversation was inevitable. I just wanted to dodge it for as long as I could, so I've been doing the avoidance dance. Kind of like how I avoided talking to Nick about college plans, but it's much easier with Bryce since he doesn't live here. And every time he comes back home, I always make up an excuse to be anywhere but at the house. I knew I would have to talk to him at some point after he bombarded my phone with calls when Nick and I had sex two weeks ago.

"So is it fucking true?" he yells at me, loud enough for other guests at the coffee shop to start staring at us.

"Keep your fucking voice down, Bryce!" I whisper-yell. "And yes, it is." I finally admitted it . Oddly enough, it feels good. I never told anybody what happened until now.

His jaw tightens as he grips his coffee mug so tightly his knuckles turn white. He says nothing but stares at me the whole time, the blaze that was present before now replaced by pity. I look away. This is why I didn't want to tell anybody.

"How do you know?"

"I saw you two that night," he says through gritted teeth. "I was tripping balls, but I remember seeing you both leave the pool house together. To be honest, I thought you slept with him willingly when I saw how calm you were the next day around Nick. I thought it was just some drunken hookup."

Bryce continues growling, the anger in his tone returning. "We went to Jamaica, and he said nothing. And then that motherfucker bragged at a frat party a few weeks ago that he liked the way you begged him to stop. That he loved the control and power he had over you. FUCK!" His voice raises and raises with each word. As he stops, the barista looks at us curiously, trying to eavesdrop.

"Shhh, Bryce, keep your voice down."

"You have to go to the police, Lil," he rambles. He gulps down his coffee and stands up. "Come, we'll go now. I'll go with you. I'm a witness. I can vouch for your story."

I stay seated. "Bryce, please sit back down."

"No. Lily, we have to go."

"Bryce, please sit back down," I repeat myself. He reluctantly sits back in the chair, his legs now restless from all the caffeine he took and the anger he feels inside.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you in the first place. You're making a fucking big deal out of this."

"Lily," he says in a low voice, his tone stern. "Logan raped you. My roommate…that I brought to our house…raped my sister, went on a vacation with me like nothing happened, and then bragged to my friends about it. Now the guy is fucking MIA. It is a fucking big deal. I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM."

"Bryce, it wasn't your fault. Logan is a fucking asshole. Don't you dare blame yourself."

His voice starts becoming desperate. "Yeah, but if I hadn't brought him home, none of this would have happened."

"Let's not play this game right now, Bryce. What's done is done. There is something more important I need to talk to you about."

"More important than this?!" he scoffs.

"Bryce, I'm pregnant."

Bryce's legs stop moving. In fact, his whole body stops moving as he steels himself. He repositions himself on the faux leather chair before he curses under his breath.

"Please tell me the baby is Nick's." I don't answer because he already knows the answer to that. He can see it on my face. Bryce starts to speak again. "It could be Nick's."

A bitter smile forms on my face. "It's not possible, Bryce. Unfortunately."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"How can you be so sure?"

I fidget in my seat. I really don't want to be discussing the logistics of my sex life with him right now. Deciding to just bite the bullet, I open my mouth. It can't get any worse than this, anyway . "Because the only time it would have been possible for Nick and I to conceive, we only had oral sex."

His face turns white as if he's seen a ghost. "Does Nick know?" Bryce asks me slowly, carefully threading the conversation.

"No, not yet," I answer. "I'm going to tell him soon, though. He deserves to know. He's building his future plans around mine."

By now, the barista is trying to find different excuses to be near us, in the hopes that he can hear whatever it is we're saying. He has cleaned the table next to us three times and asked the couple behind us whether everything was alright twice. Bryce glares at him to go away as I look down at the floor, not wanting him to see the tears that are now streaming down. We sit in silence, both not knowing what to say to the other person. Once I am sure that the tears have stopped and I am somewhat presentable again to the mass of people, I look up and see Bryce's gentle expression.

"I'm here for you. Whatever you need," he tells me in a nurturing voice before giving me one of his signature smiles.