Whatever was going on in his head was masked by a blank expression.
“Mazzie,” Bailey snapped. “Time.”
“Never mind,” I said as I hurried to Bailey’s car.
“Darlin’, I’m worried about you.” His voice held a warning.
With my hand on the car door, I glanced at Josh. “You should know me by now. I can take care of myself.”
“Tell Lucas to watch his six,” Josh said evenly.
“Is that a threat?” I asked before I opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
He adjusted his Stetson, probably shielding the glare from the sun. “I’m trying to keep you clear of what’s coming.”
I had no time to unpack that statement, though I would guess he was up to something that involved Lucas.
Men and their freaking egos.
“If you want to know more, I’ll be in the library around seven tonight, studying,” he said as Bailey drove off.
“That’s odd,” I mumbled as I snapped my seat belt in place. “Why would Josh fill me in on his plans to hurt Lucas?”
Something wasn’t right.
“Forget about that jerk. Any word on your blood test?” Bailey asked.
“No, the results weren’t available when I called this morning. But the nurse said that Dr. Vasquez wants to remove my implant since it’s expired. So, did you talk to Erik about taking a break?” I needed a distraction from my own problems, at least until we got to the Women’s Health Center.
“Not yet. He’s got an exam coming up, and I do as well. After we get through that, then I’ll have more time to talk to him.”
The rest of the way to the doctor’s office, we talked about anything but men, family, and school. In particular, we needed a girl’s night out. By the time she pulled up to the Women’s Health Center, we’d agreed to dinner and drinks early next week since I had to work at the club this weekend.
“I’ll park and meet you inside,” she said.
I found myself picking at a nail as I sat on an exam table about ten minutes after Bailey had dropped me off. Sheila, a short and pleasant nurse, had taken my vitals. As I waited for Dr. Vasquez, I read the information on the posters on the wall about the female reproductive system, pregnancy, and other health-related subjects.
I was about to grab my phone to occupy myself when Dr. Vasquez breezed in wearing a crisp lab coat. Her brown hair cut into a bob, and a sheet of paper was in her hand.
“Mazzie, I’m Dr. Vasquez.” She placed the paper on the counter then turned to lean against the sink. “I understand you’ve gotten the letter about Dr. Mitchell selling her practice to me.”
“I was surprised to learn that,” I said. “Where did she go? Retired?”
“She moved to Tennessee. In any case, you’re here about your implant.”
“It’s expired. I’ve been so busy that I forgot about the timeline. Although Dr. Mitchell informed me that her office would give me ample notice.”
Her tight smile had me on edge all of a sudden. “I’m sorry about that. My office tried calling you, but the number wasn’t valid, and we sent out two notices.”
Guilt was building in my stomach. “I changed my number and didn’t provide the new one but rectified that when I checked in. Is there a problem?” I held my stomach as if that would help me.
She lifted her chin. “I’m afraid so. Your blood results came in about an hour ago. And I’m sorry to say that your HCG levels are showing that you’re pregnant.”
I gasped. “Are you sure?” I knew blood tests didn’t lie.
“Your HCG levels are 17 mIU/ml, which tells me that you’re roughly around two weeks pregnant.”
My body trembled. “The results are wrong.” My voice wasn’t my own.
