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“Yeah, I bet he does,” Chrissy says with a grin. I don’t know what she knows, but I do know she was always too smart for her own good. “Thanks, Uncle Ethan. She always gets woozy around blood.”

“I’m happy to help,” I say with a nod. With both of their eyes on me, I leave the bathroom and head into the hall.

I take three steps before I have to lean against the wall to catch my breath. I close my eyes as my heart pounds.

There’s no mistaking it now.

That’s the girl for me.

She’s the one.Chapter FourMandyI still can’t believe I cut myself. I am officially the world’s worst flirter.

I’m so embarrassed.

“Sorry about before, Jeannie. There was a nacho emergency. You’re pregnant? Congratulations!”

She starts telling me all about it as I find Ethan in the crowd. He’s talking to Christine’s aunt on her mom’s side. His eyes suddenly dart over to me and I turn away with my cheeks burning a guilty red.

“I’m going to try and do it naturally,” Jeannie says as she holds her flat stomach. “I’ve always wanted a natural birth.”

“Everyone wants a natural birth,” our other friend Angela says with a laugh as she pops into the conversation. “Until five minutes into the labor and then you’ll be screaming for an epidural.”

“You don’t know that,” Jeannie says, getting defensive.

“I’ve given birth twice,” Angela says. “I know.”

They continue arguing and I take the opportunity to casually oh-I’m-just-nonchalantly-looking-around-the-room glance back at Ethan. His eyes are still locked on me.

This time, I don’t turn away so quickly.

I thought he was just being nice in the bathroom—that he couldn’t possibly been about to kiss me no matter how much it felt like he was about to—but now I’m not so sure.

His body is all stiff and rigid as he stares at me with those sexy brown eyes. I shiver when I remember how his lips felt on my skin. It was only my palm and wrist, but I can still feel those spots tingling.

The front door opens and one of Christine’s neighbors walks in. There’s no one to greet him, so I head over to welcome him and take his coat. The Hearsts have always made me feel like I was part of the family, letting me sleep over whenever we wanted and taking me on vacation with them, so I like to help them whenever I can. Part of being treated like family is acting like you’re part of the family too.

“Hi, Mr. Sullivan,” I say as I take his coat. “Welcome to the party!”

“Hello, Sandy,” he says, smiling under his big bushy mustache. He never remembered our names growing up, so I’m not going to start correcting him now.

“Mr. & Mrs. Hearst are in the kitchen. The bar is over there. I’ll take your coat upstairs, okay?”

He nods and heads over to get a drink as I pass Angela and Jeannie on the way to the stairs. They’re still arguing.

“Natural births are serene and beautiful.”

“There’s nothing serene about screaming your lungs out and there’s nothing beautiful about your vagina tearing open.”

I hurry past them and bound up the stairs, heading to Christine’s room where all of the coats are piled on the bed.

Her room still looks the same as it did in high school—curling posters of our favorite bands stuck to the pink walls and her soccer trophies lined up neatly on the shelf over her bed.

Something catches my eye as I toss Mr. Sullivan’s coat onto the others. I smile as I head over to a photo tacked to the wall. It’s an old one of me and Christine on a bridge in Cape Cod. We’re fourteen years old, looking adorable in our bathing suits before we jumped off it into the freezing cold water below.

I sigh happily as I look at my big toothy smile. Even when this photo was taken, I was in love with Ethan. Am I as delusional now as I was back then? Could I ever possibly get a man like him?

A knock on the doorframe has me spinning around. I gasp when I see Ethan standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

He steals my breath every time I see him. It’s like my whole body reacts to seeing this man. I can feel my heart as it ramps up, pounding through my entire body. Even the hairs on my arms raise in his presence.

“What are you doing up here?” I blurt it out. Once again, the completely wrong words come out of my mouth.

“I’m checking up on you,” he says as he walks into the room. His heated eyes look over the bed and then roam back to me.

The air in the room transforms as he approaches. It electrifies. It sparks with a lustful energy.

“Can I see?” he asks as he looks at the picture in my hands.

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