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Over the weeks that he was in L.A., the late-night phone calls, and getting to know him over eight weeks, it had started to feel real.
Real in a way that nothing else in my life had.
But now it was over.
Because despite all the new things I learned about him, the truth about his past, and how he had grown up, Blake Whitlock had still turned out to be the horrid, pompous, privileged asshole that I had always thought he was.
I blew out a breath of frustration as I began to search through Netflix, looking for something I could watch to get my mind off things when suddenly, my stomach gave a jolt.
I paused in my scrolling, giving myself time to adjust, but then it happened again, this time more insistent than the last.
I jolted from my bed, sprinting across the small apartment and making it to my bathroom just in time.
I bent over the toilet and heaved, liquid spewing from my mouth and into the toilet bowl.
I hadn’t eaten much over the last few days, and the bile stung my throat and nose as I heaved again and again.
When finally, it began to settle, I flushed the toilet and sat back on my heels, panting.
“What the hell was that about?” I said to myself, waiting for the nausea to subside.
My phone began ringing from the other room, and I pushed myself off the cool bathroom floor and stalked toward it.
But by the time I had picked it up, whoever it was had disconnected. I opened up my phone to check who it was, but something on my lock screen caught my eye.
The date. December 17th.
“Oh no,” I whispered as I started to do the mental math. “No, no, no.”
I rushed through my apartment back toward the bathroom, pulling open the doors to the cabinet below the sink and rifling through its contents in search of what I needed, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck,” I groaned, sitting back on my heels once more.
Inspiration struck, and I climbed back to my feet and all but ran across the hall to Lex’s front door.
I pounded on it, hoping that she was home.
Thankfully, it was the weekend, and she pulled open the door.
Her short blonde hair was mussed, sticking up in all directions as she glared at me sleepily.
“Pregnancy test,” I barked at her, pushing past her and into her apartment before she had time to greet me. “Do you have one?”
“I should,” she yawned. “Under the bathroom sink. What’s going on?”
I didn’t take the time to explain, didn’t even pause and give her a glance as I strode through her apartment, a reverse image of mine, and shut myself in her bathroom.
I sighed with relief when I found the white box exactly where she had indicated and pulled it open.
After I did what I needed to do, I walked out of the bathroom a few moments later into her living space.
In the few minutes it had taken me to find and take the pregnancy test, Lex had become more alert.
“It takes about ten minutes before it will show anything,” she explained from her kitchen as she flitted about, putting on a pot of coffee for the two of us.
“That’s what the box says.”
I collapsed onto her small sofa, putting my head in my hands as I tried to focus my breathing.
