Page 12 of Secret Plunge

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HARPER

When I wakeup the next morning, I feel like I’m in a daze. Last night, I’d convinced part of myself that I’d wake up and all of this was just a dream.

Well, it definitely wasn’t.

I’m still pregnant.

I still have no clue how to contact the father since I don’t have any info other than his first name.

To say I have regrets on how everything went down on New Year’s Eve is the understatement of the century. Why didn’t I at least get his last name? Or his number? Just something.

Ugh.

I grab my tea and sit in the lounge chair by the window. Soft snowflakes fall from the light-gray January sky, the motion oddly soothing. I sit there for a while and continue to stare outside until a sudden urge to go for a walk overcomes me. Definitely not the craziest thing that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. So twenty minutes later, I’m in front of the apartment building, dressed in my puffy winter coat and furry snow boots, with a thick wool hat, scarf, and gloves completing my winter outfit.

I wander around for a few blocks without a real destination in mind until I feel like a popsicle. Time to go back home. Just then, a billboard catches my eye.

It takes my brain several minutes to figure out what I discovered.

Or rather . . . who.

It’s Ryan.

My Ryan.

The man who got me pregnant.

And he’s staring back at me from an ad.

What the heck?

I move closer to get a better look and to take a photo for good measure. Which is all my frozen fingers are capable of, or I’d instantly google the hell out of this discovery.

The ad is for a popular sports clothing company, and Ryan’s dressed in athletic shorts and a tight workout shirt that stretches perfectly over the muscles I remember so vividly.

Why on earth is he on an ad?

My thoughts are trying to find their way through the mush my brain has turned into as I speed walk back home.

The snow has been getting worse, and I keep my head down as I move as fast as I can. Sirens blare somewhere, joined by cars honking and brakes squealing, but nothing can distract me from my goal of getting home.

I finally have a lead, and I’m sure I can find Ryan this way.

I mean, I just have to.

Nerves flutter in my stomach at that possibility.

I’ll be able to find the father of my baby.

Holy crap.

When I finally make it back to the apartment, I resemble a wet rat, but I couldn’t care less. I’m just glad my mom isn’t here to lecture me about ruining her floors with the wet clothes I drop everywhere.

I wish I could take a hot shower to warm up, but there’s no way I can wait a second longer to figure out who Ryan is.

It takes me a few minutes to change into dry clothes before I slip under my covers with a towel wrapped around my head, booting up my computer.

One Google search later, and I’m staring straight at Ryan’s gorgeous face.


Tags: Jasmin Miller Romance