Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
“Did you try having peppermint tea? It will help with the nausea.”
“I’ll get some on my way home.”
He closes my file and gives me a comforting smile, which has the opposite effect on me. “We should do a pregnancy test just to be sure.”
My head starts shaking while he’s still talking. “I’m sure it’s just a bug. Maybe it hit me harder because of all the studying.”
“Okay. Finish the medicine I gave you and see if the peppermint tea helps. If you still feel sick in three days, come back to see me.”
“I will.” I get up, needing to leave the room. “Thank you.” I let myself out and don’t make any eye contact with the other patients or staff as I rush toward the exit.
Once I’m in my car, I stare blankly at the steering wheel.
It’s not possible.
Besides the time I was in the hospital, I never skipped my birth control pill.
The ringing of my phone startles me out of my thoughts, and I have to dig through my bag before I find it. Seeing Mason’s name flashing on the screen, I suddenly feel like crying.
Swallowing hard, I answer, “Hey.”
“Are you done at the doctor’s?”
“Yeah, he said I should just finish the medicine he gave me. If I’m not better in three days, he’ll run some tests.”
“That’s it?” I can hear the anger simmering in the two words. “What if this is something serious? Three days is a long time. I think you should get a second opinion.”
“Dude, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“Hunt, don’t tell me not to worry,” he barks, and it has me rolling my eyes.
“Didn’t your mother teach you never to fight with someone when they're sick?”
“God help me,” he growls. “I’m not fighting. I just want you to get better.”
I let out a breath. “I know. I’m going to try some peppermint tea. The doctor is sure it will help.”
“I’ll come by after work.”
“I’ll probably just sleep.”
“Then I’ll watch you sleep,” he states, still sounding pissed as hell.
“Mason,” I say, my tone soft.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
There’s a moment’s silence before he answers, “Not nearly as much as I love you.”
I close my eyes as a wave of emotion hits. “See you later.” I cut the call before he hears the tears in my voice.
If I’m pregnant, will our love be strong enough to survive this?
Chapter 5
Kingsley
“Shit.”
My eyes dance over the three tests I did. They all show positive.
“Shit.”
My breaths start to come faster, and I sit down on the side of the bathtub.
“Shit,” I gasp, and then I stand up again and stare at the tests.
Still positive.
My body begins to shake as emotions bombard me.
What am I going to do?
I’m only twenty, and I still have another year of school left.
How am I going to tell my dad?
“Shit.”
I sit down again and cover my face with my hands.
Just breathe, Kingsley. You’ll figure something out.
My worries keep multiplying, but then they come to a screeching halt when a thought shudders through me.
How am I going to tell Mason?
Sure, things are going well between us, but he’s still adjusting to being president of CRC and moving out on his own.
As if my nightmare can’t get any worse, I hear Mason call from my bedroom, “Hunt, are you in the bathroom?”
I quickly look at my watch and seeing it’s his lunchtime, I get up and gather the three sticks. There’s a quick knock on the bathroom door, and I’m trying to get my lips to form words, but all I manage is a dry croak.
When the door opens, I shove my hand behind my back and stare wide-eyed at Mason’s frowning face.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking a couple of steps closer to me.
My mind is blank with the fear of how Mason will react to the news, and all I can do is stare at him.
“Kingsley?” He takes hold of my shoulder while worry blooms over his features.
“I… I…” I stammer, unable to say the words.
He brings his hands to my face and touches his palm to my forehead. “Hunt, you’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, and when I try to take a step backward, I bump against the side of the bathtub.
“I’m not sick,” I manage to say with a voice that sounds as dry as the desert.
“Then why do you look like death warmed over?”
Slowly, I lift my eyes back to his face. I stare into his brown eyes that’s dark with worry.
Unable to say the words, I close my eyes as I bring my hand forward so he can see the tests. Silence begins to stretch until it’s unbearable. I take a shaky breath to keep the tears back and look down at my feet as I open my eyes again.
“I’m sorry. I never skipped my birth control. I don’t know how…”