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“Fuck.” I spun around and groaned at my appearance. No wonder Ally had given me some side-eye, for fuck’s sake. I looked every bit the scruffy mechanic I was. All these women in their Sunday best and I was way out of place and out of their league.
I tipped back my head and counted to ten.
Hell, if I added on another ninety seconds, I could go check the tests myself if she didn’t fucking care.
At least she wouldn’t be running to some asshat named Tommy tonight.
Yeah, it wasn’t cool I’d deleted that text. And I’d come clean about it.
Much as I didn’t necessarily want to.
I stalked into the tiny closet and found the row of tests lined up on the top of the toilet tank on a double layer of toilet paper.
Only Kelsey.
I shook out my hands and exhaled a slow breath before I looked at each test.
Positive.
Pregnant.
Plus sign.
Two lines.
Pregnant.
No denying that one.
I scooped them up and stuffed them in the drugstore bag. Halfway out the door, I backtracked and washed my hands and tried to get some of the motor oil off my skin.
It was the least I could do before I went down and got my girl.
Eleven
“There you are!” Sage beamed at the sight of me and Ally hurrying across the lawn. She made it halfway out of her bow-adorned princess chair, sighed, and sagged back down. “I was going to hug you both, but too much work. So
I’ll just wave.”
I smiled wanly and tried not to look at Sage’s belly. It was far more fascinating to me than it had been just a day or two ago. Probably because I’d just peed enough for Austin Powers on a bunch of surprisingly tiny sticks.
There was no way I could be pregnant.
We’d used condoms. And we’d only had sex twice.
Two measly times.
And then there was Tommy.
Oh, God.
I clutched my stomach and stared unseeingly at the paper cranes and bright balloons and women wandering about in pastel dresses. All of a sudden, this whole scenario seemed more ominous.
Especially if the baby I could not, absolutely could not be carrying belonged to Tommy.
No. No. Oh hell no.
I’d only had sex with him after Granny Flo’s funeral out of guilt. He’d left me alone in bed the next morning with a text goodbye, and it had been a relief. Contrary to some wives’ tales, ex sex was not the best sex. Or even halfway semi-good sex.
