Yeah, I’m going to hell.
Pregnant with my dead best friend’s baby.
Straight to hell.
“Which top?” Lennon asks, breaking me out of my trance. She holds up two shirts on hangers and puts each one over her body. “They both suck, so which one sucks less?”
Chuckling, I examine the almost identical patterned blouses and point at the one on the right.
“Really?” She narrows her eyes at it and frowns.
“No?” I stare pointedly at her and the way she’s looking at it. “I meant your right.”
Lennon drops her shoulders and scowls at me. “Liar.”
“Stop worrying so much,” I tell her, closing the gap between us, then grabbing the shirt in question. “It’s pretty. Let me see it on.”
Sighing, she takes it, then slips it over her head. Her breasts rise, and I quickly avert my gaze until she’s dressed.
“Well?” She raises her arms, then lets them fall to her sides with a slap. “I look fat.”
“No,” I say slowly, knowing I need to tread lightly. She’s sensitive to the way her body’s changing, and while I’d love to be able to tell her she’s so fucking beautiful, I know I have to restrain myself. “You look pregnant.”
Lennon rolls her eyes at me, then marches to her room, and I follow. She stands in front of the full-length mirror, turning from side to side. Her bump is only visible in that shirt when she rests a hand over it.
“I may be biased, but I think you look cute,” I tell her honestly, my voice hoarse at the truth of my words. “I can’t even tell you’re pregnant from the back.”
“Oh great. I’ll just walk backward from now on.”
Her serious expression has me laughing. Walking up behind her, I rest my hands on her shoulders and squeeze. “Lennon. Relax. Maybe you aren’t giving your co-workers enough credit. I bet once they find out, they’ll want to be there for you and support you in any way they can.”
“Yeah, maybe.” She shrugs, making my hand move up, and I quickly drop them. The longer I touch her, the harder it is to walk away.
“Lennon.” I look at her through the mirror, and she meets my eyes. “What’s this really about?”
She drops her gaze and swallows hard. “I’m not sure. I should be glad for the change of pace and going back to my students. I know it’ll keep my mind busy, but it brings me right back to the week Brandon died and how everyone looked at me. Hell, how they treated me.”
“How?”
Lennon turns around and faces me. “Like I was damaged goods.”
Before I can think better of it, I pull her into my arms and hug her. She wraps hers around me, and we stay like that for longer than we should. Her heart is racing, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she can feel mine thumping hard. Anytime she’s close, it goes out of control.
“You’re not, Lennon. What happened to you is tragic, and oftentimes people don’t know how to react to that kind of news. It makes them feel uncomfortable, so it comes out in weird ways.”
I pull back slightly when I hear her sniffle. “You want me to be your fake husband at school too?” I ask, then wait and see if she’ll crack a smile at my pathetic attempt to make a joke out of this situation.
“Hmm…maybe, but it’d also come with even more questions.” She chuckles, which puts a wide grin on my face.
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” I flash her a wink, and I swear her cheeks redden.
“I know. Always ready to save the day, Hunter.”
“Fake husband to the rescue,” I say, pretending there isn’t a dagger shooting straight to my heart.
She smiles sweetly at me, and I take the awkward silence as an opportunity to leave. “Well, I’m gonna finish getting ready and head to work. Hope you have a great first day.” I kiss her forehead, then slowly release my arm from her waist. “Text me if you need me, okay?”
“You know I will.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m on the road and almost to the office. Now that it’s getting closer to fall, projects are wrapping up and new contracts are being signed. I’m up to my elbows in paperwork, so I spend the entire morning at my desk until it’s time to meet with the guys.
Mason and Liam are both in a booth with drinks by the time I arrive at Rob’s Burgers.
“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” I sit next to Mason and grab the menu.
“We were thirsty,” Liam taunts, holding up his beer, then taking a swig. “Your bitch ass was late anyway.”
I look at my watch. “Three minutes, asshole.”
“You’re lucky I was able to hold him back from ordering,” Mason says.
“Hey, I’m starving, okay? I have a busy week with work, so today is my only downtime,” Liam explains.