“Sophia. I’m sorry. I…”
“You’re an ass, just like I said you are?” Aubrey interrupts. “Sophia, go dance with your man while I teach mine a lesson in minding his own business.”
Happily, I step back and find Wyatt over on the edge of the dance floor.
“I’m sorry,” he says as I approach.
Sliding into his space, between his legs, I wrap my arms around his middle. “I’m good. But I’d be better if you’d come dance with me.”
My favorite lopsided grin appears. “I can do that.”
He tugs me toward the makeshift dance floor as Willow starts a cover ofSlow Dancing in a Burning Room.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers as his arms wrap around me and starts to swing me around the dance floor.
He’s a surprisingly good dancer. Something Iwillbe taking advantage of in the kitchen.
I’ve always wanted a love that I could dance with in the kitchen. Isn’t that just every country girl’s dream?
“Thank you. You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” I let myself relax into his embrace, letting him lead.
“You saw me this morning.”
“Not as much of you as I would have liked.” I pout.
“Don’t worry. I have plans for you in that dress later.” He winks.
I can’t fucking wait.
After a few more songs, Aubrey pulls me away for more food, and I’m left leaving Wyatt behind again. I should just suck it up and tell everyone the truth. Who I am. Why I’m here. Who Wyatt is to me.
Aubs and I grab our fried dough and head over to the beach to find the family set up already.
Wyatt set up our chairs at the back of the group on the beach. Noticeably away from his family, far enough that we can sit together without all eyes on us. Although, I’m sure there will be a few.
Joining him with my fried dough, he hands over a strawberry lemonade he got for me. I can’t remember the last time I ate this much food, and I feel like I’m bloated enough to look pregnant.
The word causes me pause as memories of last night flood my brain. Especially after Aubrey’s comment about using condoms and PMSing earlier. Combined with Wyatt buying more condoms means that we were out…
Wyatt and I… after Rebels… we definitely didn’t use a condom.
Shit. Fuck. Nope. Nope. Nope.
“Hey, you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick,” the man in question leans over to ask.
“Uh-huh. Yup. I’m fine. Just tired,” I lie.
Mentally, I’m running when my last period was. But I can’t remember. Pulling out my phone, I open up my tracking app.Only instead of feeling safe, I don’t have a period logged since before everything happened with James. Nothing. Have I really not had my period?
Hope takes over. If I haven’t had a period, maybe I haven’t ovulated. Or wasn’t ovulating. I guess there’s no way to know for sure. But my app says the next expected period is in two weeks.
This is going to be the longest two weeks ever.
Wyatt reaches over and grasps my hand, pulling it down between our two chairs. “Are you sure? Do you want to go home?”
His voice is low, and he hasn’t stopped staring at me. Do I want to fill him in on my revelation?
No. Definitely not. Not yet. That would scare the shit out of him, and he’s got enough going on. No. I’ll wait until I know for sure.
