Page 5 of The Twisted Beats

“It’s impossible. I almost died taking the pill and I’ve had adverse reactions to everything else I’ve tried. My doctorwon’t risk giving me anything that could be dangerous to my health.”

“I understand that, Livianna. I just wish you’d give the copper IUD another try.”

“My uterus has a difficult shape for insertion, and the last time she tried, I was in so much pain…” My chest empties with my excuses. “I’ll have her try again at my next appointment.”

He glances down for a brief moment. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll continue the rhythm method and use…”

“Why did you stop talking?”

“No reason.” He nudges me. “Let’s get you clean and cared for.”

“I didn’t plan this and have nothing to wipe with.”

He reaches into the front of his jacket for his pocket square, pulls it out, and hands it to me. “It’s not much, but it will tide you over until you can use the restroom.”

I take it from him and maneuver it between my legs, careful not to get any of our bodily fluids on his pants. He shifts, encouraging me to hurry. I climb off with a knot forming in my gut.

He’s usually nurturing and cuddly with me after sex. Even if he likes to boss me around, he’s always gentle afterward.

We get ourselves presentable without any words spoken between us. The air around us grows thick and heavy.

I’m confused. He’s come inside ‌me before, not knowing if we were safe, and he didn’t act distant like he is. But maybe he still knows my cycle even though I use an app to track my periods.

I adjust my blazer, settle against the seat, and try to ignore the iron forming in my chest. His reaction is throwing me off.

I twist to face him. “Is something bothering you?”

He swallows and stares at me for a little too long. He shakes his head and sends me a warm smile.

Intertwining his fingers with mine, he caresses the tops of my knuckles. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.”

“Then what is it? You haven’t been yourself since yesterday.”

“I know. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, and that business call didn’t help.”

“You can talk to me.” I squeeze his hand. “You don’t have to keep it bottled up inside.”

“Agreed.” He leans forward, presses his lips to mine, and then pulls back. “We can discuss it later.”

“Really?” Bubbles in my stomach rise, causing me to grin. “You’re ready to share what you deal with at work?”

“I always discuss business with you. I’m your mentor.”

“That doesn’t count. That’s how we explain why we spend so much time together and why I have an office in the same building, directly across the hall from yours.”

With a subtle nod, he flashes me a look of agreement. “You’re right.”

“Does that mean you’ll talk to me tonight about the real issue?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

The car stops and the divider comes down.

David peeks over his shoulder at us. “We’ve arrived. The valet will open your door and I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”

The back door opens. We exit the car, go inside the bistro, get seated, and I politely excuse myself to go freshen up.