Chapter 16

Katy's been quiet since we left the barbecue five days ago. She was all but silent, skirting my eyes as I took her to Kenna and Keegan's apartment so she could pack a few suitcases to bring to my place. I didn't see her much at the barbecue. Her cousins Owen and Vander turned out to be everything Katy said they were, and after I swore yet another blood oath that I wouldn't hurt Katy and that if I did, they could kill me, things got better between the three of us.

Especially when Owen and I discovered we both have horrible exes and are also both are friends with Jack Kincaid, Wes's son. He's actually one of Owen's best friends and the two of them grew up together, though Jack didn't mention him to me at all when he told me to get in touch with Wes. Maybe because Owen is a pediatric surgeon and not a trauma surgeon or he simply didn't come up.

That evening, Katy and I had sex—fun, hot sex, but it was missing some of the heat and spark we had that morning—and then she went to her room down the hall to sleep. That was it. By the time I got up in the morning, she was already gone, and when I got to work, we were doing more of the same dance we had the week before—avoidance.

She's friendly but distant. There but not.

It's a pattern that's continued.

Come home, have sex, go our separate ways, and then avoid each other. Wash, rinse, repeat.

At first, I rationalized that the distance between us was good. Necessary even. Important to maintain the boundaries around what we're trying to do. But the longer it goes on, the more I can't stand it. Things between us are deteriorating, and it doesn't take a genius to know that whatever her friends said to her at the barbecue is what sparked this fissure between us that's caverning into a deep chasm.

I understand her purpose with this, but isn't there some sort of middle ground? I thought that's what we had. I thought that's what we agreed upon. Hell, I thought we were in a good fucking place with each other.

But this… this is torture. Agony. I see her, touch her, taste her, but I don't feel her presence the way I did. It only makes me want her more. It's the same way I felt when I first moved to LA for my fellowship. I'd think about Katy, wonder about her, dream about her. Hell, for a long time, I regretted moving there and questioned what would have happened between us if I had stayed.

Only this time, she's right here, within my grasp, but she's also not.

I fucking miss her.

I miss her eyes on mine, her sweet, flirty smile, and the way she laughs and teases me.

We have sex in my bed—never hers—and then she's gone. The only proof she was ever there is her light, lingering fragrance on my pillows and sheets that I wind up burying my nose in just to keep her there with me a moment longer. I'm losing my mind.

I even went into her bathroom and replaced her bodywash with mine because I know she loves how I smell, and I wanted her to not only be forced to smell me but also smell like me. I meant it as a bit of a joke—at least that's why I told myself I did it—but she never called me out on it and I know she's using it, so now it's another thing floating unspoken between us.

I don't know what to do, and I have no one to fucking talk to about it. It's turning me into a grumpy fuck. More of a grumpy fuck than I was when I first moved back to Boston.

We have our appointment with the attorney in an hour, and Katy is in the locker room showering and changing. I've already showered and changed, but have been lingering, waiting on her. I know I need to say something to her before we put ink to paper. I need to give her an out. Even if the thought of doing that guts me.

My phone buzzes with a text.

Katy: Just finishing up. I'll meet you at the attorney's.

I stare across the floor, taking in all the people around me, and then return to my phone, already deciding that's a totally unacceptable answer and not caring.

Me: I'll drive you there. You can keep your car here tonight, and I'll bring you back in the morning since we both have a shift.

I watch as the three dots bounce, disappear, reappear, disappear, only to finish off with…

Katy: I'm fine driving myself. I was thinking of sleeping at Kenna and Keegan's tonight anyway since I'm no longer ovulating.

The fuck?!

Not fucking happening.

Without thinking anything through, I storm down the hall, slipping my phone back into my pants pocket just as the women's locker room door opens and Katy emerges. Only I don't let her get anywhere before I push her back inside, shut, and lock the door behind us.

"Bennett?! What the hell are you doing?" she snaps, her voice high and loaded with shock and dismay. "This is the women's locker room."

I pin her to the closed door and get right up in her face. "Is anyone else in this locker room?"

She gulps, and I can see her mental debate. Not okay.

"Tell me the fucking truth, Katy. Now."

She swallows hard. "No. It was just me."

"Good."

In her next breath, I slide my hands to her upper thighs just beneath her ass and lift, walking her back into the locker room until we reach the space between the showers and changing areas. I slam her into the wall and press myself right into her, putting us eye-to-eye.

"What's going on, Katy?"

She makes some sort of bullshit, indignant noise like she's all upset at what I'm doing right now, but I don't give two shits. She's going to talk to me. She's going to stop hiding from me. There is only so much I can take, and I think I've officially reached my breaking point.

"I don't know what you're talking?—"

"Don't," I warn dangerously. "Don't do that to me. Don't do that to us and what we're trying to do here. We have to be able to talk to each other."

She swallows and nods before slowly raising her gaze to mine. "I know."

"Tell me why you've been distant and avoiding me since the barbecue. Did I do something wrong? Did I overstep somehow or make you feel uncomfortable?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Katy baby, you have to communicate with me. I'm going out of my mind. I have so much at stake, and I can't…" I blow out a breath, switching this up and doing what I told myself I was going to do for her. "If you need an out, you've got it. You've got it, and I won't blame you or judge you or even be angry with you. You've got that out until we know if you're pregnant, and even then, as I said, we can adjust how we do this with each other. But if you don't want a father in your kid's life or you don't want me to be that father, I need to know now."

Her arms wrap around my neck, and her blue eyes turn sheepish. "I'm not looking for an out. I want you as the father of my child."

"But?" I press because she's holding back.

"But I got spooked."

I squint. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I like you, but I don't want to love you."

Shit.

For reasons unknown and that I can't even begin to explain, that leaves me winded in the worst of ways. I don't want to love her either. I don't. But… why does it feel like there is a part of me that wants her to love me?

My throat thickens. "And you think that's a risk?"

She shrugs. "Sex confuses and complicates things. I just needed some time to get my bearings with all of this, and the distance helped."

The last thing I want right now is to stop having sex with her. I understand I will have to do that eventually, but I was, I don't know, hoping it would take us a bit to get pregnant. A couple of months. Enough time to let me have my fill of her—if such a thing is even possible. Going in, I knew the personal risk of that. I knew there was a chance I'd lose my mind and possibly a piece of my heart to her—though I did consider the latter unlikely.

I figured if the unlikely happened, it would hopefully be only temporary, and I'd learn to live with the pain if it meant I'd have her for a while and then a baby after.

But I hadn't considered her heart with that. She told me it wouldn't be an issue.

I adjust her in my hands and press her deeper into the wall so I can free a hand and cup her jaw. "Katy…" Shit. Dammit! "If you want to stop trying naturally, we can."

My chest caves in on itself at the thought of losing that piece of her. It's not even the sex per se, it's having Katy on a different level. A closer level. One of the few I have.

"I want a baby with you, Bennett, because I think you'll be an amazing father. But I don't know how to do this with you without compromising my heart or wanting yours."

What do I say? What do I do?

And why—seriously, why after all I've been through and all she's been through—does part of me want her to want my heart? I clear that away.

"So you want to stop sleeping together?"

Please say no. Please say no.

"No. I don't," she says after a long, tense beat. "I like having sex with you. But I need mental and physical boundaries while we're doing this part of it."

"Okay." I swallow thickly. "You've got it."

"But I want you too. That's what scares me. I don't want to stop yet. I don't even care that I'm not ovulating anymore. And that's bad, right? I shouldn't want you as much as I do."

My head slants sideways, and before I realize what I'm doing, I plow my lips directly against hers. She gasps and I take advantage, swirling my tongue with hers, groaning at the feel and taste of her like I've gone years instead of only hours without it, and this one taste is bringing me back to life.

"I want you too," I murmur against her lips. "So much. All the time. It's never enough." My hand tugs at her hair and I hold her tight, demanding full access to her mouth, demanding all of her, and not accepting anything less. Her tongue twists with mine, fighting me, angry and punishing, and yet she's so hungry she can't slow her kisses, and neither can I.

I can play this by her terms. I can force myself back and give her the space she needs. I can. I have no choice if I want this. This could be my only shot at having a baby. A baby while my mother is healthy enough to enjoy being a grandma.

There is nothing more important to me than that.

"We'll be fine," I promise her. "It's new and scary and rife with uncertainty. I get that. But we've got this. We can do this."

I start fisting at her clothes, my hand roaming, sliding over her breasts, loving how hard her nipples are for me. Katy, I've come to learn, prefers to wear dresses and skirts when she's not at the hospital and is forced to wear scrubs. And since she was set to meet me at the attorney's office, she's wearing a flowy butter-yellow skirt. I wish I could bend her over and spank her. Punish her for hiding from me, but this isn't the place, and I don't have that sort of time.

My hand dives up, and I push the center of her thong to the side so I can play with her wet pussy and pulsing clit. She wants me. She fucking wants me as much as I want her.

I continue kissing her, her hands ripping at my hair and yanking at my shirt before working the button and fly of my pants to free my cock. The moment she does, I take myself in hand, line up, and plunge in as deep as I can go.

"Fuck!" she cries. Her eyes pinch shut as her head meets the tiled wall behind her.

Her pussy convulses, gripping my cock like a fist. There is nothing like that first thrust inside her. Fucking nothing.

I hold my breath as I start to drive into her, my body desperately reacting, needing to show her that this thing between us is too good to stop or give up.

"I'm not fucking you with my heart," I tell her. "I'm fucking you with my dick. As long as we don't confuse the two, we'll be fine." I thrust deeper, panting harder. "Don't go, Katy." God, she feels so good. "Please," I beg, unable to stop the words from tumbling past my lips as I continue to fuck up into her, making sure my pelvic bone hits her clit with every upward thrust. "Don't go."

She gasps, loud, and without restraint. All she can do is hold on to me, her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. She's so fucking beautiful when she's like this—with me buried inside her making her feel good. My skin tingles, and my forehead prickles with a sheen of sweat. My hips piston, pivoting into her, moving faster, trying to outrun this… this feeling, this urgent fucking feeling that's making my chest burn.

"Tell me we can do this," I demand. I've already lost too much. I can't lose this—lose her—too.

Her forehead drops to mine, and our eyes cling helplessly. She licks her lips and then kisses me. "Yes," she promises, her voice barely audible. "We can do this. I want this too. I won't go. I'll stay."

I can't even begin to explain the sensation swarming like a pack of honeybees in my body. Holding her ass in my hand, my other wraps around her neck in a move so possessive and controlling I growl and nip at her bottom lip.

"Come on, Katy. Let me feel it. Let me feel how warm and tight your cunt is when it comes all over my cock." She's not ovulating anymore, I know this, but I don't care. Nothing has ever been as satisfying or felt better than coming inside her. I squeeze her neck lightly and unleash myself, fucking her with abandon. "We'll stop. When you're pregnant we'll stop."

"Ah. Bennett!"

Yes. There it is. "Say it again."

"Bennett," she moans, her eyes screwing up tight. "There. Oh, God, don't stop. Fuck me right there."

I do, and the second she starts to spasm around me, I let myself go and come so hard I end up pressed against her. My fingers uncurl from around her neck before I strangle her, and I push us both into the wall for support so my legs don't give out on me.

I lick her lips, her neck, the sweet spot beneath her ear, all the while I hold her tight. And when my breathing is almost fully back under control, I rasp, "You have to talk to me. I had a wife who didn't. A wife who lied and betrayed me. I can't…" My face twists up. "I can't do that with you. Things between us have to be different than that."

"I had an ex who did the same, and you're right, we have to be different." She yanks on the back of my hair, forcing my face away from her neck so we're eye-to-eye once more. "I'm sorry. I got spooked and didn't know what to do about it."

"Sweetheart, I get being spooked. I like you too." So much more than I should. Looking at her, feeling her like this, I fucking like Katy a lot. The sort of liking that you don't want to stop or slow down because it feels amazing. It's that high you get when you've got something new and incredible and fun. But that's my own thing, not hers. "We've both been through a lot. But I have to be able to trust you and know that you'll tell me where your head is at."

She nods. "You can trust me. I'll tell you from now on."

"I'll tell you too." That I might already be lost in you. That I might have always been.

A fresh coat of sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my heart thunders all over again. It's the same feeling I had after I was inside her the first time. Christ, could there be anything worse?

She slides off me and gets to her feet, giving me a playful shove with a crooked smile on her lips. "Out. I have to get cleaned up now."

"Are we okay?" I check, not moving away from her until I know—until I feel it—for sure.

"We're good, Bennett. I promise."

"Are you sleeping at home tonight?" I ask.

She nods, giving me a sweet smile.

Relief floods me. "Good. Meet me downstairs in the lobby and we'll go together."

I tuck myself back in my pants, adjust my shirt, and run my fingers through my wavy hair to tame it. I made her promise to tell me where her head is, but I can't do the same with her. She'll run, and this will be over. I just have to remember my goals. Get myself back in better control. I was desperate all week with the uncertainty between us. That's all this is. Now that things are worked out, I'll settle down, and we'll settle into a groove.

It"ll be fine.

I twist the lock on the door. Shit. We just did that here at work. Talk about a stupid fucking move. What was I thinking? At least no one caught us. That almost gets me out the door until I run directly into Cricket Peterson.

"Bennett?" Her eyebrows hit her hairline, understandably shocked to see me exiting the women's locker room. She's on tonight and still in her street clothes. Meaning she'll run into Katy in there when she goes to change into her scrubs.

Again, shit! Dread, along with a rush of sickly adrenaline slam through me. So. Fucking. Stupid.

"Hi, Cricket." My voice is a mess. I'm sure I am too.

"What were you doing in the women's locker room?" she asks, suspicion all over her.

"Dr. Barrows wasn't feeling well, and I brought her some water. I'm just heading out for the evening. No one else was in there but her. I made sure of it," I tack on, so she doesn't think I'm a fucking pervert trolling the women's locker room. She might not know about the rumors, but my boss does, and if she brings this up to the chief of surgery, I'm out on my ass.

"Oh." She blinks at me, taking in my weak lie and twisting it around in her head until it makes sense. At least I hope that's what she's doing. "Was it her diabetes? Because you know she has that."

Has that?The way she says it like it's pestilence crawling all over her and makes Katy weak enrages me. "I think she just had a hard case."

She makes a derisive noise in the back of her throat. "Pathetic, right? We all have hard cases. The real trauma surgeons are the ones who know how to cope with that and don't allow it to affect them."

There is no winning this in Katy's favor, and even though I want to verbally eviscerate her for being so cruel and thoughtless, I rein myself in.

"Some cases hit harder than others. I'm no different in that," I tell her simply, starting to walk away.

"Have a good night, Bennett," she calls after me, using my first name in a familiarity I don't like. It's not the name, it's her voice using it. "Will I see you tomorrow morning?"

"Likely," I throw back at her.

"Excellent. I'd love to have more time to show you my skillsin the OR before we start fellowship interviews."

I freeze, my body seizing.

What am I doing? I very nearly got caught fucking Katy in the women's locker room. More than that, I have Cricket up my ass because I'm her boss and presiding over the fellowship for the trauma department.

But what's hitting me in the worst of ways is how can I pick Katy—who more than deserves it—for this fellowship? I'm fucking her. She's living with me. I'm trying to get her pregnant. If I succeed, what do I tell my boss and the board? That I'm nominating the woman pregnant with my child for a fellowship I'll be overseeing? Even if I tell them our situation beforehand, they'll never pick Katy for the position.

Moreover, they could—and likely will—fire me over this.

I told Katy this wouldn't be an issue, but someone like Cricket Peterson could and would make it one. Did I just ruin both of our careers, and what happens if our secret gets out?