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Even if I was willing to meet with Nick, I’m not even sure I’d make it twenty minutes before needing to excuse myself to barf yet again.
But I can’t keep avoiding him. Even though that’s exactly what I want to do.
I just needed time to think. That’s what I keep telling myself. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, much less had a pregnancy scare.
Obviously, I can’t tell Nick. Or… should I? Thinking of either outcome is agonizing. If I don’t tell him, I have to deal with this on my own. I’ll be the talk of the office–the single senior associate who got knocked up.
And if I do tell him… a shiver wracks my shoulders. If he freaked out on Mitch for canceling a meeting, I can’t imagine how he’d react to finding out I’m pregnant from our hookup. Will he believe it’s his or will I have to prove it to him with whatever tests you have to do to show that?
With a groan, I drop my head down onto the desk.
“Please, let this nausea go away,” I mutter.
At the end of the day, I step off the elevator on the ground floor and feel my stomach lurch.
Ginger ale for dinner again. Maybe I can even get down some saltines if I’m lucky.
The nagging need to set up an OBGYN appointment itches at the back of my mind. Ignoring it for now, I sidestep people and stride into the lobby, relieved to be out for the weekend.
And then I see him.
The crowd parts before Nick Weaver as he walks toward me, his eyes darkened to a thunder grey.
My heart stutters in my chest. I feel like a prey animal caught in the gaze of a predator. Without knowing why, I look around desperately.
What am I going to do, run?
But he’s on me in a heartbeat, scowling down at me, his jaw darkened with stubble that looks sexy on him in a rugged way. His fists are clenched and the button-down he’s wearing strains slightly across his chest.
“What are you—” I start, but he wraps a massive hand around my wrist and practically drags me to a seating area at the far side of the lobby. I stumble after him, face flaming. Hopefully neither Ben nor Ethan are around to see this. I’m sure Ben would have a lot of questions about why my client looks like he’s ready to light the building on fire.
“You can’t escape me.”
The words are a promise. I feel a warm thrum of fate go through me.I don’t want to escape you.
The thought hits so hard that I’m momentarily stunned. It takes everything in me not to sweep a hand against my stomach and give up the secret. I look up at him… and see the flicker of hurt in his eyes.
“I’m not trying to,” I finally say, weakly, sinking into a chair.
Nick stares at me and I find myself intimidated by him.
But then he settles into a chair across from me and seems to soften a bit. “You don’t look well,” he says quietly.
I can tell he’s starting to feel bad, and even though a part of me wants to teach him a lesson about confronting me at my place of work, I reassure him instead. “It’s been a tough two weeks. I… came down with something that I haven’t gotten over yet.”
Won’t be getting over it for another eight months actually.
His jaw strains, neck taut. “I’m sorry.”
The apology is quick and quiet. I’m surprised and think about asking him to repeat himself.
But I decide I better not push my luck.
“It’s… I’m sorry for canceling,” I blurt out. I’ve been actively avoiding him, and now I feel bad about it.
Nick quirks a smile, his eyes back to that swirling, tempting grey that pulled me in that first night at The Grove. God, he’s handsome.
“You mean, for having your assistant cancel?”
