Since meeting Samuil, I've had more s*x than I've ever had before. But life has also been more chaotic than it's ever been, and I occasionally forget to take my birth control.
I lunge for my makeup bag, upending the moisturizer and accidentally turning the hot water faucet on high as I rifle through the contents. I pull out my pills and flip open the lid.
"Oh, God," I groan. I press my forehead to the mirror in hopes I'll fall through into an alternate reality where I'm not the dumbest woman alive.
The pill container is like a half-finished tic-tac-toe game. I thought I'd maybe missed one or two doses here or there, but it's more like I'm forgetting as often as I remember. Add to that the kidnapping stress and the antibiotics for my injuries, and there's no way this medicine is doing wh
