Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
He looked a lot like Apple.
Eerily so.
Where Apple had blonde hair that leaned toward more strawberry blonde, this man didn’t. There was no questioning that this man was a redhead.
And he had tanned skin, exactly like Apple.
It was weird looking at him. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a redhead with tanned skin before.
“What’s the date of your last…” Dr. Drew continued.
“Are you related to Apple Drew?” I blurted, interrupting his questioning.
His eyes, the same blue as the man I was comparing him to, smiled.
“Yeah,” he said. “Cousin.”
Ahhh, that made sense.
I would’ve thought that they were brothers, but cousins explained the resemblance as well.
“I thought so,” I said. “What was the date of my last what?”
He blinked, surprised at the abrupt switch of topics.
I shouldn’t have bothered asking him.
Apple was still ignoring me, and even now, two months after whatever that’d been in the bar happened, my heart still ached. It was harder than hell to think about, and any time I slipped and thought about all the fun I’d had with him, and then the sudden cold shoulder, my heart raced and an ache formed in my chest.
Meaning, I so did not want to talk to this man about his cousin.
“Last date of your menstrual cycle,” he repeated.
I blinked, confusion furrowing my brows.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t have regular menstrual cycles and never have. But I think the last one I had was right before I started the semester, which would be in January.”
“It’s March. So you’d guess about two months?” He surmised.
I pursed my lips, shrugged, then nodded.
“Yeah,” I said. “That sounds about right.”
“What were you doing when the seizure started?” He studied me.
I winced.
“School work. In particular, I was reading about a case that we’re working on at school tomorrow,” I explained.
He nodded.
“Alright,” he murmured. “I’m going to hook you up to the monitor, and we’ll see how that looks. I doubt that we’ll find anything since you seem to be fine right now. From here, I would suggest you follow up with your regular doctor.”
I nodded, knowing that was going to be the stitch.
“And I’ll get your cut sewn up,” he said, standing up to peel the gauze back that I’d stuck to it earlier. “Looks like it’ll take about two or three stitches.”
“Doctor,” a nurse said from the door. “Here are the labs.”
The doctor held his hand out for them.
“Will you bring me the suture kit so we can sew her up?” He looked at the nurse. “Also, I want to go ahead and get some pain meds for her to take home. Can you go get me…”
He rattled off some letters and numbers, as well as a name that I didn’t quite understand.
But that could be because of the man that arrived at the nurse’s station about five feet from my door.
He leaned over and said something to the nurse, and the nurse pointed towards me.
“But doctor,” the nurse said. “The meds you just prescribed can’t be prescribed to pregnant women.”
Apple, who’d turned and started forward towards me, froze at hearing those words.
His eyes locked on mine, and they practically lit with an inner fire.
My heart, which had already been beating about ninety to nothing at the sight of him, took off like a rocket into outer space.
Jesus. Christ.
Fifty awkward minutes later, I was holding my discharge papers and a picture of my unborn child.
An estimated nine-week old fetus.
And Apple was at my side.
He led me to Ridley’s truck, and I didn’t complain when he strapped my seatbelt on for me.
Didn’t say a word until we were pulling up in front of my house.
Shutting the truck’s engine off, he got out and walked to the door.
“Thanks,” I muttered, pushing the door open before he could.
I caught a hold of my purse and slid it over my shoulder, then tried in vain to move around the large man.
“Excuse me,” I said tightly.
“Kitt,” he growled, and just that one word, on his lips, made my control break.
“I never knew…” I said. “I swear I didn’t mean to.”
He caught me up in his arms. “It’s okay.”
“No,” I cried. “It’s not.”
“It’ll be fine. We’ll figure this mess out,” he promised.
I stiffened in his arms, pulling away and swiping at the tears pouring down my cheeks.
“Mess?” I asked carefully.
His eyes studied me just as carefully.
“Kitt,” he said slowly.
I brushed his hand away.
“Me and my mess don’t need you.”
With that I walked inside, completely missing the devastation that broke out over his face.
***
One day later
I left the doctor absolutely terrified.
I’d first seen my OB/GYN to confirm what I already knew.
I’d next seen my seizure doc, who’d removed me from my medication and put me on a different one.
One that was safer for the baby.
Sweet baby Jesus.
What had I been thinking? I wasn’t a dumbass. I knew how babies were made.