Spring Fever: A Four Seasons Novel

by Geneva Lee

  I pulled away and met his eyes as we continued to move together in a tireless pace. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  Roman groaned at the words and for a moment I thought he had finished, but a second later, he had turned me around and spread me across his desk, shoving aside papers and sending books crashing to the ground. His momentum never faltered, but he slowed, pushing inside me with languid strokes. “You wouldn’t let me say that before.”

  “I know,” I moaned. “I thought…”

  “You think too much, mi bella.” He thrust into me harder as if to drive the point home.

  Leaning over me, he trailed his lips up my neck and over my lips, gripping my hips as he circled against me. “I won’t ever let you go again.”

  The promise washed over me, my limbs tightening and releasing in a wave of pleasure. Roman’s hands slid under my shoulders, bracketing me to him.

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” I whispered.

  He drew back and shook his head as if I was missing something obvious. “I don’t want easy. I want you.”

  He didn’t warn me again.

  But a half-hour later as I gathered my panties off his desk, my eyes fell on an essay next to them on the ground. I recognized the name—a girl in one of my science classes. Roman was an instructor. I was a student. There was a reason I’d been avoiding him since Puerto Vallarta. Being together was a risk, and we were making stupid decisions. What would the faculty say if they knew an instructor was screwing an undergrad, one of his former students, in his office? He’d be fired. Maybe even expelled from his graduate program. I could ruin him.

  His eyes followed mine to the essay and his jaw twitched. He scooped the paper off the floor as I stood up and scrambled to get dressed.

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” I stammered as I tugged my sweater back on. “This was a mistake. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Jess—” he began, hurt shining in his brown eyes, but I held up a hand to stop him.

  “Don’t,” I pled. “Don’t make it harder.”

  I backed up until my fingers unlocked the door. Roman didn’t say anything when I opened it. Instead he bent over his desk, muscles tensing across his chest and arms, and watched me walk away.

  Again.

  Chapter 19

  “You haven’t gone out with us in a month,” Jillian exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips as she glared at me from the doorway to my room. She was already dressed in skinny jeans and a tight, velvet top. Make-up on. Hair curled. Next to her I looked homeless. “Either join a convent or get dressed!”

  Normally Jillian could talk me into going to Garrett’s with her big, doe eyes and the promise of shenanigans. But I wasn’t feeling up to it. I hadn’t felt up to it since I’d gone and broken my heart all over again in Roman’s office.

  “Look, he’s not going to be there,” she assured me.

  I stared at her, wondering how she’d guessed who I was thinking of. I hadn’t told her or Cassie about my little faux pas behind closed doors in the communications building.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Brett’s not going to be there,” she said. “He never goes in there. You clearly got Garrett’s in the break-up.”

  Of course, that’s who she had meant. Why would I be worried about running into Roman at a bar? I’d never seen at one—within the continental United States. He seemed to walk a very straight line between his professional duties and his social life in Olympic Falls—with one exception.

  “Honestly, I don’t really feel like staring at your face attached to Liam’s all night. Don’t be offended. I love both your faces. I just could do with a little more separation of the two.” The two had been nearly inseparable since Christmas, glued to each other like the end of the world was coming.

  Unfortunately for them, it was.

  “You know he leaves for Scotland in June. We don’t have much time left together,” Jillian did a good job of hiding the hurt in her voice, but I knew her better than that.

  I sighed and closed my study guide. “I’m sorry. I’m being a stone cold bitch these days. Blame it on the stress.”

  “And the broken heart,” Jillian added softly.

  “And…that.”

  “Does it feel better to admit it?” she asked.

  “I guess.” I shrugged, unprepared to concede that a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It felt good to be honest, even if I hadn’t come clean about everything.

  “I promise there will be little to no sucking face tonight.” She dropped onto my bed and laid her head across my lap, barring access to my book. Grabbing her stomach, she grimaced. “The fates have cursed me. An unwanted relative has come to call: nasty, old Aunt Flo.”

  “What? Liam’s afraid of your period?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. That surprised me—nothing seemed to faze him when it came to Jillian.

  “A girl has to have her lines,” she said, and I laughed. “Don’t laugh! It’s true. I have boundaries.”

  I shook my head. History was not in her favor on that matter. “No, you don’t.”

  “Take that back,” she demanded, reaching up to pinch my stomach. “I am a lady!”

  “More like a Madame,” I corrected her. She pinched harder and I yelped in between laughs.

  “See what you’re missing in life?” She bounced off the bed. “We’re leaving at nine. No buts about it!”

  Apparently Jillian hadn’t lost her touch, although I didn’t exactly remember agreeing. I was about to remind her of that when she popped her head in again. “Stop overanalyzing it. You’re coming out tonight,” she informed me. “Oh, and do you have any tampons?”

  “Maybe. I’m probably out. I don’t remember buying any, but there might be some in the bathroom in my basket.”

  “Thank you!” She disappeared again, then called out. “ Jackpot! Full box!”

  “You’re welcome,” I yelled back. Flipping open the study guide, I started another practice test. If I had two hours before I had to walk out the door, I could finish one and throw on something other than the threadbare T-shirt and jeans I was wearing. Five questions in, my blood froze, which wasn’t technically possible. I was studying to be a doctor, but it sure felt like ice was creeping through my veins.

  A full box of tampons.

  A full box of tampons that I didn’t remember buying.

  Question #5: In females, implantation occurs during which phase of the reproductive cycle?

  Usually I kept a calendar, but in the last few months, seeing the days tick by had become depressing. I’d switched to a notebook of deadlines and to-do lists. I’d had it since Mexico and their had only been that one time in his office. But even without a calendar, I knew what a full box of tampons I didn’t remember buying meant. It had just taken a simple question in my study guide to remind me.

  We were not going out. Possibly ever again. Or, at least, I wasn’t. My head swam as I tried to process exactly what was happening. I’d been careless. I knew that much. But that didn’t make standing in the aisle of the drug store reading pregnancy test boxes feel any less surreal.

  “I just don’t understand how this happened,” Jillian said next to me. She had four different boxes in her hands and she threw them all into the hand basket.

  “I don’t think we need that many,” I said flatly.

  “Do you want proof? Or do you want proof?”

  Never mind that I’d never taken one of these before, but I was smart enough to know that any one of them would provide me with a definitive answer, so I threw three boxes back on the shelf. I wasn’t going to spend all night peeing on sticks. “This will be fine.”

  “So, you haven’t had your period since Mexico?” She didn’t bother hiding the astonishment in her voice, and I cringed.

  “I might have,” I hedged. There was no point keeping this from her now, but that didn’t make me want to come clean.

  Jillian stopped in front of me and crossed her arms, blocking me from leaving the aisle. “Con
fess or I will track him down and drag it out of him.

  I sighed and braced myself for a tongue-lashing. “I ran into Roman a few weeks ago. Things happened.”

  She didn’t really need to know more than that. I had no doubt that Jillian was schooled on the general basics of getting knocked up. Maybe she’d even listened when they hammered the importance of condoms and birth control and forethought, which was why she was standing there staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

  “Things happened?” Her voice pitched up an octave. “How the hell could you have gotten pregnant?”

  “Well, when two people love each other very much, sometimes the man puts his penis inside—”

  “Spare me the sex ed. It sounds like you’re the one who needs a refresher course.” She rolled her eyes in typical Jillian fashion. “You didn’t realize you were late?”

  Obviously I hadn’t realized that. Between classes and stress and endless, mind-numbing activities, I barely knew what day it was. My life had become like clockwork, which is why I should have noticed. Maybe I’d forgotten simply because I’d spent the last month trying to forget my vagina even existed since I’d forced it into an early retirement. “I didn’t.”

  “Oh my god, you’re going to be one of those women who goes to the bathroom and a baby falls out!”

  “I’m sure that would give my future patients great comfort.” If I ever had patients. If I ever made it to med school. My stomach clenched at the thought. Maybe it was better if I didn’t become a doctor, since I wasn’t even capable of contraception.

  “Aren’t you on the pill?”

  “Nope,” I admitted. “Do you know how horrible that is for your body? The risks associated with hormonal contraception include…” I rattled off a list of known side effects, but Jillian wasn’t budging.

  “I’m on the pill,” she reminded me, “and you’ve never expressed concern.”

  “And you’ve been going bareback with Liam for how long?” This time I was the one who rolled my eyes. It made me feel childish, which was a strange combination given the very adult anxiety I was currently facing. She’d confided that information to me in private, and I’d thrown it in her face as a defense.

  “Because I’m on the pill!”

  There was no point arguing about this. It was as futile as my life felt at the moment. Tears welled in my eyes and I did my best to blink them back. Jillian’s stony expression softened and she wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “Is it?” I asked. Not because I wanted an answer, but because I couldn’t fathom how it would be. I was in the middle of prepping for med school entrance exams and weighing my university options. A baby wasn’t part of those plans. Not to mention that I’d ran out on the father, who just so happened to be a freaking instructor at my school. Things were definitely not going to be okay.

  “Let’s not worry until you take the test,” she suggested softly.

  That was impossible. I couldn’t see how it would work out in my favor, either. I’d royally fucked up this time. There would be consequences. Decisions I didn’t want to face. Not alone.

  Jillian purchased the test, because I was too numb to do it myself. It was an out-of-body experience as though I was floating overhead and watching someone else’s life. This was not Jess Stone. She had crusaded for free condoms in the campus clinic. She had always used one, and she had harassed her friends to carry them. So who was I and where had she gone? In three years of university, none of us had a pregnancy scare, and I’d have bet money that I wouldn’t be the first one.

  I guess the odds weren’t in my favor.

  But when we climbed the steps to our apartment, I realized my reproductive status wasn’t the only surprise I had in store for me that evening.

  Roman was standing at our door.

  Chapter 20

  Yanking Jillian to the side, I tried to pretend I wasn’t shaking. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he was here tonight of all nights.

  “What is he doing here?” I demanded under my breath, hoping he couldn’t hear me.

  “I texted him,” she admitted. There wasn’t a shred of remorse in her eyes.

  “I had no idea you two were so chatty.” I didn’t want to snap, but I felt like a rubber band being stretched across a football field—snapping was inevitable. I couldn’t believe he was here. Not right now. I’d walked out on him over an essay and he’d shown up at the first sign of trouble. Roman was out of my league. I didn’t deserve him.

  Jillian grabbed my shoulder as if she expected me to run. “I messaged him on your phone.”

  “You had no right—”

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” she said with a shrug.

  Dammit. She had me there. I had been the one to call her mother when she was in the hospital, and I’d butted into her relationship with Liam more than once. But it didn’t feel the same. “This is different. You were sick.”

  “I don’t think it’s that different. He should be here if—”

  “This—” I held up the bag from the drug store—”has nothing to do with him!”

  “Remind me how women get pregnant again,” she said drily.

  If I continued this conversation with her I was going to scream, so I took a steadying breath and turned around to face the Spanish Inquisition. Roman watched me warily, his eyes darting between me and Jillian. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans, but he looked anything but casual. He positively smoldered with anger. At me? At the situation? I couldn’t tell.

  Jillian nodded her head once in greeting before she unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter. He followed her inside, leaving me outside in the chill of a Pacific Northwest night. The March wind cut to the bone this evening. Tomorrow it could be sunny and beautiful—or it could be gray and dismal. I strongly suspected the weather hinged on tonight’s activities. Shivering in the hallway, I forced myself to take a step toward the apartment. I couldn’t avoid this anymore. Regardless of what happened, the sun would still rise in the morning. I might as well face facts.

  I couldn’t meet his eyes as I shuffled into the apartment. My best friend had abandoned me with him, and he didn’t seem overjoyed to see me. The pregnancy test suddenly weighed a million pounds. Jillian reappeared in the living room, tugging her unruly brown hair into a ponytail.

  “I’m going to hang out at Liam’s and give you two some space.” She looked to me for confirmation that this was okay, but I couldn’t manage more than a mumble of approval.

  But as she headed toward the door I caught her arm and leaned in to whisper, “Did you tell him why he’s here?”

  She nodded and my heart sank. Part of me had wanted to lie and get him out of here as quickly as possible. But if he knew why Jillian had messaged him there was no way that was going to happen. The other part of me didn’t want him to go. Thankfully, there was no choice in the matter. I suspected he wasn’t going to leave, but that didn’t make my confusion any less acute.

  The door clicked shut behind her, and I closed my eyes, trying to locate my center of gravity.

  “When were you going to tell me?” Roman asked in a quiet voice.

  I spun to face him, the balance I’d sought slipping away. “I’ve only known for about two seconds myself!”

  “How far along are you?”

  My mouth fell open. He thought I was pregnant. As in definite. As in confirmed. Suddenly, I felt like the girl who cried wolf. Fan-fucking-tastic. “I’m not pregnant.”

  Roman’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. At least, we were both experiencing that emotion. “But Jillian said—”

  “I might be pregnant,” I added, before he could get comfortable with the idea that he’d dodged a bullet. “I haven’t taken the test.”

  Holding up the bag from the store, I waved it in front of him. Both our gazes fell on it, knowing it held an answer that we might not be ready to see.

  “We should take it,” he said simply.

  �
��I doubt you can take it,” I snapped, then sighed. Why couldn’t I keep my bitch at bay?

  “You should take it,” he corrected himself, “and I’d like to hold your hand while you wait.”

  Part of the icy numbness I’d felt all evening melted at his words, and tears pricked at my eyes. I tried to blink them away but they escaped, rolling down my cheeks in salty torrents I couldn’t control. “I’m…I’m…”

  He was there immediately, arms around me. He smelled like the ocean and coffee and safety, and I breathed him in until the tears stopped.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Roman said, stroking my hair, “and I’m going to be right here. No matter what happens.”

  He led me toward the bathroom, leaning against the wall while I went in. My heart sped up as I ripped open the foil and pulled the stick out. My hands shook as I read the directions, even though I was pretty sure it didn’t take a rocket scientist to take a pregnancy test. After some trial and error, I sat the test back on the sink and opened the bathroom door.

  “How long?” he asked me.

  “Three minutes.” My voice sounded foreign to me, small and distant.

  “Jessica”— he paused and cupped my chin, directing my eyes to meet his—”whatever that test says, I need you to know something. I want to be with you. You ran before, and I should have come after you. Maybe things between us are complicated. Maybe they’re going to get more complicated. But I don’t want to face another second without you. And I know this is happening fast, but I’ve spent the last month thinking about you, wishing that I hadn’t let you walk out that door. I told you I don’t want easy. I want sleepless nights and lazy Sundays. I want to watch you go to med school and miss you when you work late hours. I want you. Always.”

  And for the first time that line from Cassie’s favorite movie made sense to me. Because I’d realized who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, and now I couldn’t wait for the rest of my life to start. My throat was too raw to respond, though, so I simply nodded. I couldn’t say the words back. Not because I didn’t feel them, but because he’d stolen my heart and replaced it with his. It was too new. Too powerful.