Janie takes my hand and gives is a squeeze.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, girlfriend. But so you think it’s possible you could be pregnant?”
I nod slowly as more tears trickle down my face.
“I think so.” I turn to her. “Oh god, what am I going to do?”
Janie takes my face in her hands and presses our foreheads together.
“You’re going to take it one step at a time, and no matter what happens between you and Logan, or what you decide if you are pregnant, I have your back. Now, I think the first step is for you to take a pregnancy test. I can go buy one if you want. Right now, in fact.”
My heart leaps with panic.
“Right now?” I croak out.
She nods.
“It’s no trouble. I’ll be out to Walgreens and back in ten minutes. You know Jerry and my mom are out, so you won’t have anyone bugging you. Besides, you have to find out one way or another right?”
I nod miserably.
“I guess you’re right,” I whisper. “Okay, I’d really appreciate it. I’m so glad you’re here right now, Janes. You’re a great friend.”
“Anytime,” she says before getting up and grabbing her purse. “Just wait right here, girlfriend, and I’ll be back in a jiffy. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t give yourself a panic attack!”
I wave as she leaves, but once the door shuts, another jolt of nausea hits me and I stick my head back into the toilet just in time to be sick again. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I have a feeling I already know what that pregnancy test is going to say. My hands slip over my belly unconsciously protecting the child within. OMG, is this really happening? Am I really expecting Logan Henley’s child?
Suddenly, happiness flows through my veins because I’d love to have the alpha male’s baby. Yes, it’s unexpected but thinking of our son or daughter growing under my heart makes me happy, and tears brim in my eyes once more. The problem is, what will Logan say? How will I even tell him? My heart lurches because I don’t want to ruin everything, nor do I want to lose him. But is the handsome man ready to be a daddy?
10
Emory
My hands are tangled in my hair as I stare down at the small blue plus sign on the second pregnancy test I’ve taken this week. The first was the one that Janie bought me and sure enough, two blue stripes showed up. I bought another one this morning to be sure, and the blue plus sign is a sure-fire indicator that I’m having Logan’s baby.
I have to tell him. I have the inform the man that I adore that I’m expecting his child, but what will Logan say? Will he be ecstatic? Enraged? Or ask me for a termination? My heart lurches at the thought because I want this child. I don’t know how I’ll manage, but I want to be a mommy no matter what.
But now, it’s nearly 11 p.m. and Logan’s expecting me next door. He thinks it’s going to be more fun and shenanigans, not to mention filthy bedroom games, but little does he know: there’s a bomb about to drop.
But I have to do it, so I stick the indicator into the box, and then place the box in my purse. My phone dings and I see it’s Logan texting me.
Hey baby. You on your way over? I’ve missed your sweet body today.
Tears well up in my eyes as I read his message. What am I going to do if he rejects me after I show him the test? This man means so much to me, and I’m not ready to lose him. It’s crazy because it hasn’t been that long, but since that first time together, Logan’s become my world. No one has ever made me feel the way he does, but if he can’t accept our baby, I don’t know that there will be anyway to keep what we have. But I won’t know anything until I tell him what’s going on.
I’m leaving my house right now. See you soon, I text back.
Glancing in the mirror above my dresser, I take a quick second to wipe away my tears and pat my cheeks, trying to blot out the redness from my constant crying and overactive emotions this week. Then I sling my purse on my shoulder, turn off my bedroom light, and head downstairs with a quiet step.
Sneaking out isn’t something I normally do. I’m not a child and my parents have never been the kind to give me crap about going out, but this time, I don’t want to risk running into them. If my mom sees my face she’ll know something’s up, and I don’t think I could outright lie to her face. So I tiptoe down the stairs as quietly as possible, making sure to step over the third step that always squeaks. The lights in the living room are out, so Esther and Harry must be in bed. Good. Reaching the bottom floor, I take a left and make my way out the back door, slowing closing the door behind me until it latches shut.