Stellar Collision (Falling Stars #2.5) Page 10

  Mia collapses to my chest, caging my arms.

  We lie there, catching our breath. When my dick finally softens and slips from her body, the wetness reminds me of her time of the month.

  I'm so glad she doesn't hold out when she's on her period.

  "Baby, my arms," I pant.

  She shifts and I pull my arms free.

  Holding her tight, I hang one leg over the edge of the hammock and move my body until I can get both feet on the floor.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Need to clean us up," I respond, standing us both up.

  Grinning, I look down, but it's too dark to see her face.

  "I've mastered that bitch," I boast, proud at my hammock exiting skills.

  "Yeah," she says with what sounds like a forced laugh.

  First, clean up, then find out what's up.

  "Come on." I guide us to the bathroom.

  Inside, I turn on the shower and strip off my shorts.

  Staring down, I freeze.

  "Mia, I thought you started your period?"

  I turn, finding her facing the vanity mirror, her hands planted on either side of the sink, head down, eyes clenched shut.

  "I thought so, too," she says, eyes still closed.

  "What—?"

  She spins around in a sudden move, her eyes blazing with emotion. Tears spill down her cheeks.

  "I…" she snaps her mouth shut.

  Leaning down, she opens the cabinet beneath the sink, takes out a blue box, dips her fingers inside, and pulls out a white stick.

  A flurry of emotion courses through me. Dropping to the side of the tub, I grip the edge, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.

  "You're pregnant," I whisper.

  Fear and panic surface, but excitement starts to grow, surprising me. The anticipation drowns the panic, leaving only a thin outline of concern.

  "I don't know," she says in a strained voice.

  Snapping my eyes open, I find doubt and fear marring her beautiful face.

  "I brought the test, but couldn't bring myself to take it," she blurts, and a sob jerks her entire body.

  "I'm so sorry, Chris. I really did think I started this morning." She wraps her arms around her body. "I never would've said anything if…" a sob swallows the rest of her words.

  I'm a fucking prick. Look what I've done to her.

  I push up from the tub and rush to her, pulling her in my arms.

  "Baby, no, don't," I plea as sobs continue to rack her body, hard.

  I'm a selfish fucking asshole.

  "Mia, please," I implore, "don't cry. There's nothing to get upset about."

  "Of course there is," she cries. "You don't…and I might…and it's…everything's a mess."

  Taking the test out of her hand, I look at the two empty white windows, toss it into the corner of the vanity counter, and put her arms around me.

  "I was so afraid you'd think I lied to you," she chokes out.

  I press my mouth to the top of her head, and say, "I'm a fucking jerk."

  Tears sting the back of my eyes as I palm her head between my hands and tilt her head up from my chest. When she doesn't meet my eyes, I tell her, "Look at me."

  Biting her lip, she closes her eyes.

  "Look at me, baby. Please?"

  Her eyes open and meet mine.

  "Let's get a shower, okay?"

  Her brow furrows, confused by my request.

  Releasing her head, I remove her shirt and push her shorts and underwear to the floor.

  "Come on," I say, taking her hand and leading her to the large glass shower.

  Under the spray, I lather both our bodies, Mia's jerking from a sob every few moments, wash our hair, and rinse us clean. Dropping to my knees, I hold onto her hips. Mia's hands come to my shoulders for balance.

  Pressing my forehead against her stomach, I choke out, "Forgive me."

  She hiccups once, and says, "There's nothing to forgive. You can't help it if you don't want—"

  Lifting my head, I cut her off. "Forgive me for making you feel like this. Christ, Mia, you were seconds away from a panic attack because of me!"

  I sit back on my feet and close my eyes, fighting the tears burning for release.

  "You deserve better than someone like me," I say, my fingers tensing into her flesh. "But I'm selfish." Opening my eyes, I lock them with hers. "I'm too fucking selfish to let you go." The tears finally escape, mixing with the droplets from the shower.

  Mia kneels down on the tile floor in front of me.

  "Did you ever consider that I'm the selfish one?"

  Her question causes me to jolt.

  "That I'm too selfish to let you go?" Her hand comes to my face. "That I'm selfish to take and expect so much from you?"

  Shaking my head, I take a deep breath.

  "My life would mean nothing without you," I confess. "There isn't anything you could take or expect that I wouldn't give you freely."

  Scooting closer on her knees, she presses her mouth to my forehead.

  I shove her back, earning a look of confusion.

  "Quit placating me," I snap.

  "I'm not," she argues.

  "Yes, you are. Mia, I deserve your anger. I freaked out from the start about the pregnancy. Not once did I stop to think about how you were feeling. I'm an asshole who almost sent you into a panic attack because you might be pregnant."

  She opens her mouth, but I keep going.

  "Pregnant with my baby. What kind of dickhead acts the way I did? Oh, that's right, this one." I point to myself. "Then, when I finally fucking get my shit together, you tell me you aren't pregnant," I let out a humorless laugh, and she tenses, "and I'm fucking disappointed!"

  Her eyes widen at my admission.

  "Disappointed?" she asks in a whisper.

  "Yeah," I quip. "How fucked up is that, Mia? I was more than disappointed. I was fucking crushed to find out you weren't pregnant."

  "But you didn't—"

  "Say anything?" I ask, my voice rising. "Of course not. I'm a fucking twat and thought it was best to keep my mouth shut."

  "But, why?" She sits back on her feet, new tears falling from her eyes.

  Inhaling and exhaling heavily, I get myself under control.

  In a calmer voice, I answer, "I could see how emotional you were. That you were upset, and that's when it hit me. I didn't consider how you felt about the whole thing, so what right did I have to share in the regret of what could've been?" Pointing to my chest, I say, "I'm your biggest disappointment, Mia, and you should fucking hate me."

  I push up to my feet, shut off the water, and exit the shower stall.

  "Chris," she croaks, "stop!"

  Naked and dripping, I turn just as she stands.

  "I was sad and disappointed, with you and the whole situation." She swallows and licks her lips. Guilt lances my chest and spreads over me.

  "I can't hate you. I love you. I need you."

  Tears fill her eyes, but don't spill.

  Grabbing a large towel from the wall, I wrap it around her body and bring her to me.

  "I don't deserve you," I assert, placing a kiss on her forehead.

  "You're wrong," she says, snuggling against me. "We deserve each other's love and our flaws."

  With a heavy sigh, I embrace her tighter.

  Chapter Ten

  Mia

  I roll to my back and reach out, finding a vacant spot. Sitting up, I hold the soft sheet to my chest and look around the cabin.

  "Chris?" I call out.

  Nothing.

  Slipping off the bed and wrapping the sheet around me, I go to the bathroom to take care of morning necessities.

  My eyes are drawn to the vanity corner and I stop when I see the test stick is gone. I search the full vanity and open the cabinet beneath the sink, but the test is nowhere to be found.

  Curiosity burning away, I rush through my bathroom tasks and slip Chris' white t-shirt over my head. I emerge from the bathroom, toss the sheet back on the bed, and head for the hammock. Reaching the open doorway, I open my mouth to call out for him, but the sight of him at the end of the deck, legs over the edge, and shoulders hunched silences me.

  He looks deep in thought, and I'm hesitant to interrupt. After last night's confessions and intense conversation, he's probably in his dark place. Taking a step back, I decide to let him have his solace.

  The sound of my cell phone causes me to start. Chris twists at the waist and looks at me.

  Before I turn for my phone, I notice he has his cell in his hands.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He probably called Dr. J, still working through his emotions.

  "Ignore it," he calls out, just as I tap my screen.

  "Hello." My voice sounds gravely, so I clear it.

  "You wanna meet for breakfast and take the kids down to the beach?" Serena asks.

  "Uh, yeah, let me talk to Chris."

  "Text and let me know when you plan to head up."

  "Where are you?"

  "In one of the beachfront villas," she states. "I think we're neighbors, but this map is confusing the shit out of me."

  "I'll text when I know."

  "Okay," she says, ending the call.

  "When you know what?" His hands come around my waist.

  The tension I felt since waking up alone disappears at his touch and I relax into his body.

  "What time we're heading over to breakfast," I inform, turning in his arms.

  Placing one hand on his bare chest, I look up and meet his eyes.

  "You okay?" I ask.

  Bringing up one hand, he grins and moves some hair behind my left ear.

  "I'm good, baby." He palms my face and leans down, placing a quick kiss to my mouth. "You okay?"

  I nod.

  His brow furrows.

  "Tell me the truth," he requests.

  "I'm okay, really. Nervous, but okay."

  "I love you, Mia." His words are as intense as his blue eyes.

  "I love you, too."

  Releasing me, he walks over to the luggage we have yet to unpack.

  "What's the plan for today?"

  "The plan?" I follow his example and go to my bag as well.

  "I know Kara has something all planned out. It's probably in outline and spreadsheet format with a flow chart," he teases.

  I giggle because it's entirely true. I'm surprised we don't have a schedule of events on our phones this morning.

  "Serena mentioned taking the kids to the beach," I say, pulling out a bathing suit, drawstring shorts, and a gauzy tank top. "So, I'm going to take Maggie down after breakfast."

  "We," he corrects, dropping his shorts to the floor.

  I take a moment to appreciate the man in front of me—the man I love and am about to marry. The colorful images on his arms bulge and sway with the flex of his muscles, drawing your attention down his body in bold designs. I bite my lip and fist my hands to keep from sexually assaulting him.

  "Baby," his voice pulls my attention back up his body and to his face, "you gonna get dressed or continue to eye fuck me? Because, if you keep it up with the eye thing, we won't see anyone until lunch." He raises his brow.

  "I'm dressing," I claim, giving him my back and pulling his shirt over my head.

  "Fuck, baby," he groans.

  It takes a split second for his hands to make contact with my bare skin. His head dips to my ear.

  "Tell Serena we'll see them for lunch."

  His long fingers run up my stomach and cup my breasts. The thumb-swipe over my nipples almost persuades me to agree, but Maggie's face flashes in my mind.

  I step out of his arms, instantly missing his touch.

  "We need to take Maggie to the beach," I remind him.

  Sighing heavily, his eyes rake my body once more before going back to the task of dressing.

  I secure the dark purple bikini to my body, grab my cell, and text Serena.

  "You're not wearing that," Chris clips.

  Turning, I find him examining me from ass to tits, his arms over his chest.

  "Don't start," I quip, rolling my eyes.

  "Where's the one with the tank top?" he asks, striding over and digging through my bag.

  "I didn't pack it," I say, straightening my spine and pursing my lips.

  The truth is Kat and Laney unpacked the tankini and replaced it with two string bikinis instead.

  "It's a tropical island, Christopher," I remind him, "I'm not the only person who's worn a bikini here."

  "Don't care about other people, Mia," he growls, arms over his chest once more.

  "Good to know," I say.

  Patting him on the arm, I walk around his stoic form and grab my shorts from the bed. I slip them over my legs, tie them tight, and slide the thin, sheer, gauze tank top over my head.

  "Ready?"

  Stuffing my cell phone into the back pocket of the terry cloth shorts, I turn to face him.

  He motions toward the shirt I put on, and asks, "What the fuck is the point of even wearing the shirt? It's fucking see-through."

  "Bye, Chris," I say, walking past him and out of the villa.

  He catches up to me on the dock.

  "You do this shit on purpose," he grumbles.

  "What shit?" I ask, regretting it as soon as the words leave my mouth.

  "Oh, you know what you're doing to me and any other guy who looks at you," he growls.

  I stop halfway across the dock, mouth agape.

  He walks three steps before turning to look back.

  "You coming?" he asks, like he didn't just imply I'm hootching it up.

  "I think you just indirectly told me I'm dressing like a slut."

  "No, I didn't," he argues.

  "I dress this way to do something to other guys?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

  His mouth opens then closes. He frowns before a look of exasperation masks his face.

  "You're not a slut," he announces, "but you damn well know it's going to drive me nuts."

  "It drives you nuts, really?" I ask, my sarcasm clear.

  His jaw clenches and he marches up to me.

  "You know how much I hate other guys looking at you," he informs.

  "Looks like you should be with someone else then, huh?"

  The frustration melts from his face. Eyes round and mouth slightly parted, he relaxes his jaw.

  "I don't want anyone else."

  "Good to know." Patting him on the chest, I grin and walk around him.

  "You just fucking played with my emotions, woman," he calls to my back.

  "Maybe," I say over my shoulder.

  The heavy fall of his feet sends a thrill through my body. Turning around, I see him charging me.

  An uncharacteristic squeal escapes my mouth as he bends and lifts me onto his shoulder.

  "Put me down," I laugh the words.

  The swat to my ass causes another squeal to leave me.

  "Chris," I shout on a giggle.

  He smacks one more time, but leaves his hand on my ass and squeezes.

  "If you insist everyone checks out your ass, I'm going to damn well make sure they know who it belongs to."

  "You're such an asshole," I say, reaching down. It's my turn to swat his ass.

  "Baby, you keep that up and I'll turn us around," he warns.

  "Jerk," I growl, playfully.

  "You love me," he retorts.

  He gives my ass another squeeze, carrying me all the way to the breakfast.

  My ass still in the air, Elliott whistles loudly when we enter. Kat and Laney cheer, and everyone else laughs.

  Chris puts me on my feet next to my parents’ table.

  A wave of dizziness assaults me and I reach out, grabbing onto Chris for balance.

  "Shit, you okay?" He examines my face, lifting my chin.

  "Give me a minute," I breathe out.

  "Fuck, Mia, I didn't think."

  "It's okay," I reassure.

  He leans in, his lips next to my ear, asking, "Did I hurt you or the...?"

  I let the question fall off, remembering I could be pregnant for the first time since early this morning.

  "I'm fine, honestly," I assure, kissing him on the cheek before he straightens. "It's just…the readjustment to being upright again."

  The scrape of a chair pulls my attention from Chris to my father.

  "Hey, baby," he coos, wrapping his arms around me.

  Releasing me, he turns to Chris.

  "Mr. Ryder." With a nod, Chris extends his hand.

  My dad takes it in a firm hold.

  "Mia!" Linda shrieks, pulling me into a tight hug. "Are you excited? This place is fantastic, and our room is spectacular."

  Her rapid-fire speaking makes me laugh. Linda is usually so put together. It's nice to see her so excited.

  "I'm glad you like your room, and the island is pretty amazing," I say, leaning in and kissing her cheek.

  The familiar scent of cocoa butter fills my senses and brings with it a sense of reassurance I didn't realize I needed. Pulling out of our embrace, I look around the room full of tables filled with family and friends. Everything feels right. Like the last piece in a puzzle, it fits.

  "Hungry?" Chris asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

  Smiling, I look up at him and say, "Yeah."

  His brow furrows for just a second before he returns my smile and leads us to the buffet table.

  Christopher

  This morning, I woke up with the sun, a head full of chaotic thoughts, and guilt riding my ass. Unable to fall back asleep, I found myself standing in front of the double sink in the bathroom, staring at a white plastic stick. Who knew something so simple could fuck with your world so irrevocably?

  Snatching it from the corner of the vanity counter, I had every intention of tossing it in the garbage, or even the fucking water surrounding us. But when I turned and saw Mia lying in the bed, white sheets wrapping her body, one bare leg exposed and bent, I shoved the stick in my luggage.

  For now, I don't want her worrying about it. She's worried enough about me, my reaction, and the whole fucking situation.

  With breakfast over, most of us have gathered on the beach. I watch Mia and Maggie walk the edge of the water. Maggie's hesitant to go in and tries to climb up her mother when the water rushes over the sand at her feet.

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