Page 7

I just nod. “All right.”

The unhappiness leaves his eyes and the tension bleeds from his frame—and the room. I’m able to breathe a little easier, able to daintily chew on one of those mushrooms. Daintily because even though I want to shove it in my mouth, shove everything on my plate into my mouth, and then raid the pantry, I don’t.

Dylan requires manners.

At all times.

I set the half-eaten mushroom down, reach for the champagne, mouth already watering at the anticipation of the crisp, fruity taste on my tongue.

But I don’t so much as get the glass to my lips before it’s swept out of my hand.

“No,” he says.

“I—” My throat goes tight, nerves eating at my insides, but I press on. “I’m working out the extra hour. The champagne isn’t that many calories…”

I trail off.

Because his face is changing again.

And the sinking feeling in my stomach almost has me hurling that half of mushroom right back up.

“You shouldn’t drink,” he says.

“I—” My throat is even tighter. “Why?” I manage to force out, and the flash of anger across his face has my throat loosening, the words coming quickly now. “I mean, I don’t have to, and I won’t. I promise, I won’t. I just…you never seemed to mind before…and I’m just wondering why tonight…”

“Because it’s not good for the baby,” he says slowly, as though I’m the dumbest person on the planet.

And maybe I am.

Because those words don’t compute.

“But I just had my—” I cut that off because he doesn’t like to hear about my periods. “I mean, I’m not pregnant.”

He slides his hand down my arm, taking my hand and drawing me to my feet, stepping close and pressing his body flush against mine.

He’s hard.

I can feel his erection pressing against my belly.

I’m not turned on. In fact, I’m so not turned on that bile burns the back of my throat.

“You’ll be pregnant soon enough and it’s better to have good habits now.”

Like not eating?

Like walking on eggshells so I don’t set him off?

Like living in an ever-decreasing gilded cage?

Like…

No.

Just…

“No!”

The word blasts through my mind the same time it leaves my lips, the sudden horror and revulsion and terror over bringing a baby into this fucked-up situation erasing every bit of common sense I possess.