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Kristie stood at the doorway as I rinsed my mouth. "Are you okay?"
I rolled my tongue around my mouth. "I'm good." Vomit tasted horrible.
"Was it something you ate?"
"Maybe, but I don't think so."
"This is my fifth time in two days."
She stared at me.
"And my period is late," I continued. I’d been thinking about it ever since I first vomited, but I didn't want to face it. Perhaps I voiced it out to Kristie because I wanted her to knock some sense into me.
Concerned, she asked, "You don't think..."
"I'm thinking it."
"You should get it tested."
I gingerly licked my lips. "I should. But I'm scared."
"I'll follow you to the drugstore."
***
My world came crashing down within a short span of a few hours.
Positive.
Fucking positive.
I'm f**king pregnant.
"Be careful," Kristie said. She accompanied me back to the twins' house, worried I'd hurt myself. Countless times, I’d reassured her I could take care of myself just fine, but she didn't believe me. She had reason to. I'd had too much to drink, and since I couldn't hold alcohol very well, I was a little too tipsy. Alcohol now, and worries later. I decided to take up a hedonistic kind of thinking and let my inhibitions go. I didn’t even know if I was going to keep the baby.
I thought I was imagining things when I saw the plus sign on the pregnancy test. I checked once, and then I double-checked, tripled checked, and after the tenth time, I still couldn't be convinced. It must have been wrong. These things weren't accurate, were they?
I’d been on birth control, so the twins shouldn't have knocked me up. Damien was less likely to have done so, because I forced him to put on a condom before we ever did anything. I tried to think of a time when I missed the pills, and surprisingly, I did.
That day, when I saw Damien sleeping with someone else, I had gotten too depressed to bother. And the day after, I forgot, too, because of all the commotion with the twins.
Which meant the twins could've knocked me up since day one.
How could I have acted so carelessly?
Kristie bid me goodbye. I couldn't remember if I did the same, too.
Tyrone tentatively wrapped his hand around my elbow to guide me up the stairs.
"I can do it myself," I said, and stomped up the stairs. I might have been drunk and ticked off, but not to the point where I couldn't walk. Some of my conscious mind stayed with me.
Tyrone followed me. "Miss, you're not feeling well."
My nose twitched. "I know that. You don't have to remind me."
Another voice interrupted our conversation. "We'll take it from here."
I lifted my gaze. The twins were waiting for me in front of the house. My twins. My f**king twins who were f**king perfect, yet careless enough not to use condoms.
Admiring their taut bodies, I stomped up the steps. My emotions were being controlled by a blend of anger, lust, and worry. I couldn't decide between slapping them and kissing them. They wore loose, white tank tops, revealing their shapely arms.
An image of me moaning under them as my fingers clawed at their biceps flashed in my mind.
Being drunk made me f**king horny.
When I reached them, my decision was to kiss them. I walked up to a twin—I didn't care which, and encased his mouth with mine. He returned my as**sault willingly, slipping his tongue in.
His fingers were buried in my hair when I ran out of breath and pulled back. "You're drunk," Ryan said. Turns out, I was kissing Ryan.
"Good guess, Einstein."
"Where have you been? It's one in the morning." His eyes wandered over my face—with hunger? Anger?
"Shut up and f**k me already." I lunged for his mouth again, feeling greatly empowered by the alcohol surging through my veins.
He covered my face with his hand. "We need to put you to bed."
"You don't want to have sex with me?" I pouted, and showed him the most child-like expression I could manage.
He smiled, though it was barely noticeable. "Trust me, princess. I want to f**k every last inch out of you. But it's late, and you're not feeling like yourself."
Sulking, I released my arms from his shoulders and walked away. I hated being rejected.
"Scarlet, wait."
I took off my shoes as I went along. My heels were killing me. I ran up the stairs and headed toward the room—the twins' room. My lack of soberness gave me reason to act whichever way I wanted. So if I wanted to sleep next to the twins tonight, that was what I was going to do.
They kept a spare toothbrush for me in the bathroom. The brothers watched as I brushed my teeth. The aftertaste of liquor was strong at the back of my tongue.
"We were worried," Riley said.
I rinsed my mouth and wiped my face. "Why?"
