“Umm…jet-lagged?”
“Nothing else? No soreness anywhere?”
I frown, then shrug. “I’m sore everywhere. We haven’t exactly kept our hands off one another for the last two weeks.”
His lashes sweep down and I sense he’s disappointed in my answer. But he nods in the next moment. Presses a kiss to my forehead. “Get some sleep, baby.”
He falls asleep wrapped around me, breath steady at my nape.
I should sleep too.
I try.
But something unsettles me, drags at me and keeps me awake while the house creaks and breathes around us.
Eventually I slip out of bed, padding barefoot into the living room where the shiny new laptop Zane gave me sits open from earlier. I’ve been working on the story I promised him. The anonymous one. Our world, but disguised.
Twisted. Beautiful. Messy and honest.
I just want to get out of my own head and write, just for a little while.
I swipe the mouse.
The screen brightens and immediately, my stomach drops.
Because at the top of the inbox I don’t even recognize is an unread message.
Zane’s email app…somehow connected to my laptop.
Still logged in. It would be a colossal invasion of privacy if not for the heading blaring my name.
SUBJECT: Miss Lane – Blood Work Results
FROM: Dr. H. Rourke, MD
I stare at it so long my eyes burn. Then I blink, hoping the words on the screen will melt away. Hoping it’s a delirium conjured by too much fucking and not enough sleep.
But no, when I squeeze my eyes shut and open them again, it’s still there.
Blood work. My name. His doctor.
I click. And the world tilts.
“Positive. hCG levels consistent with early pregnancy. Further testing recommended in one week.”
A buzzing rips through my body, loud and shaky, drowning out everything else.
Pregnant.
Pregnant?
My breath snags and my pulse jumps as my vision narrows. Hands shaking, I scroll as the rock in my throat expands, threatening to block my airways.
Attached are charts, dates, levels, meticulous notes.
There’s another attachment titledCycle Tracking – R. Lane.
Something I recognize from weeks ago. Something I was outraged over at the time and stupidly brushed off. I stare at with stunned eyes and something deep inside me cracks.
