It might be a crude term for what they were doing, but there was no denying that’s essentially what they were.
And what about her job? Could she expect Mercy-Life to give her time off when the baby came? Would they let her fly when she grew bigger?
Her hand covered her lower belly, pressed on the flat surface.
There was no point asking all these questions until she knew for sure. And she was out of time to stop and pick up a test before her shift.
She had no choice but to wait twenty-four hours now.
26
Something was wrong.
Mazey had been quiet since she arrived this morning. She’d said she was just tired, but Rylan didn’t think that was it. Not with the pensive looks she kept shooting his way.
Luckily, they hadn’t had any call outs yet.
It was Jack’s night to cook dinner, which meant takeout. He should have thought to bring some of yesterday’s leftovers. Hell, he should have brought the whole lot in. It would save him from eating burgers and dogs for the rest of the week.
“I’m ordering pizza in ten minutes, people. Any special requests tell me now,” Jack yelled from the kitchen.
Beside him, Mazey turned white and jolted out of her seat, sprinting from the room.
“What the fuck?” he mumbled at her retreating back. He glanced at Bex, who shrugged.
“Maybe she wants to be sure he orders what she wants.”
Rylan pondered his colleague’s assumption and decided she was probably right. Pushing to his feet, he asked, “Anything specific you want ordered?”
“Nah, just make sure he orders something other than pepperoni.”
“Will do.” He headed for the kitchen, but when he got there, Mazey wasn’t in sight. “Where’s Maz?”
Jack looked over from where he leaned against the counter. “How would I know?”
“Right. Sorry. I thought I saw her come this way.” He glanced behind him. The only other place she could have gone was the bathroom. “Make sure you get a few different toppings, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah, Bex wants veggies.” Jack exaggerated a shudder. “Waste of a good pizza, but whatever.”
Rylan left Jack to order and went in search of Mazey. When he pushed the bathroom door open, she was stepping from a cubicle, her face pale and dotted with sweat.
“Hey. Are you okay?” he asked, rushing over.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” She bent over a basin and splashed her face with cold water.
“Are you sick?” Placing a hand on her back, he rubbed between her shoulder blades.
“A little. It’ll pass.”
“Did you eat something off?” He tried to remember what they’d had for lunch.
“No. Um, listen.” She stood straight, her gaze finding his in the mirror above the sink. “Can we go for a walk outside?”
“Sure. If you’re up to it.”
“I’d like some fresh air.” Swallowing, she added, “And we need to talk.”
“Okay.” He stuck his arm out, indicating she should go first, the dreadedwe need to talkwords echoing in his head. Had she changed her mind about continuing to have sex with him? Remaining friends?
