On the way home, I stopped at the store and picked up a few things, then decided I should probably stay home tonight. The last thing I needed was to see people. Lord, it was all too much.
* * *
Doc
Liv texted me somebullshit excuse about not feeling well and needing to bow out of dinner at Doom and Lyric’s. Her message was way too polite, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Something was wrong.
I headed home, saw that her car was parked in her spot, and walked inside, calling her name. No answer. “Liv?”
There was no answer again, but I noticed discarded boxes on the floor and frowned.
What the fuck?
Leaning down, I noticed they were store bought pregnancy test boxes. Now I was really confused. Especially, because there was a trail of them. I decided to follow where they led, counting as I went, ending in our master bedroom. “Olivia?”
“Goddammit!” she squeaked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I live here.” I pushed open the bathroom door and tried not to laugh. She sat on the toilet, six pregnancy tests piled up on the vanity next to her and she looked like she was ready to kill someone. “Baby, what the hell is going on?”
“First Response, Clear Blue, and, ah, PregMate have a conspiracy against me,” she snapped. “Obviously.” I reached for one and she slapped my hand. “Don’t touch them, psycho. I peed on them.”
“Liv, I’ve licked every part of your pussy, I’m not worried about a little pee.” I picked up a test, then another, and widened my eyes. “You’re pregnant?”
“I’m still waiting on the Dollar Store one. I might not be.”
“Sweetness, you’ve taken five. They all say positive. Even if the Dollar Store one comes back negative, I think we can confidently say you’re pregnant.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Or we could wait for the blood test.”
“What blood test?”
She sighed. “Well, what had happened was...”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did Margo discover you were pregnant today when you went for your shot, so she decided to take a blood test to double check?”
Olivia tapped her nose with her index finger, before flushing the toilet and washing her hands.
“Wow,” I said, wrapping my hands around her waist from behind. “A baby.”
“Oh, I’m not having a baby.”
“Pretty sure you’re havin’ a baby, Liv.”
“No.”
I met her eyes in the mirror. “Are you in denial, or are you threatenin’ to make this baby go away?”
“I would never hurt a baby, asshole,” she snapped, pushing away from me. “I can’t believe you’d think that.”
“Well, I think you need to wrap your mind around the fact you’re pregnant, sweetness, because this is happening.”
“Well, I think you need to wrap your mind around getting the fuck out of my house.”
I grinned. “Ourhouse,” I corrected.
“Is this the hill you want to die on, Tristan?”
I laughed. “Come here.”
