“Yeah?”
“Please don’t tell anyone yet.”
“Never. I promise.”
I lie there after we hang up, nerves and anticipation tightening my chest. Today. No more hiding.
I stare at the snowy peaks outside my window again, just trying to let reality settle, but long before it can, I know I have to get going. I still have a job to do, and if they haven’t noticed anything yet, they definitely will if I skip breakfast and stay in bed all day.
Even so, I linger in the bathroom a little longer than usual, trying to rehearse how I’ll tell them while I shower, then brush my teeth. I go through my normal routine at a snail’s pace. My brain goes around in circles while I floss, counting the ceiling tiles for focus.
Breakfast is the first real test. I join them in the kitchen, forcing a small smile as Boone fixes my tea and Dillon hands me a plate. I sit between Chance and Boone, taking tiny bites of scrambled eggs.
Every glance Boone throws my way makes my stomach flip.Just do it. Just say it. No, not yet.
At my desk later, I open my laptop and try to get to work. Emails, spreadsheets, the usual, but every ping of incoming mail and every notification on my phone makes me flinch. My mind is somewhere else entirely.
Lunch with Boone is even worse. I thought it would be easier, just the two of us. He chats casually while I push food around my plate, nodding and smiling, hoping I can hide the anxiety creeping up my spine. I open my mouth to speak, close it again, then take another bite.
Not now, Roxie. Not yet.
By the time the afternoon rolls around, I’ve given up pretending I’m fine. My hands hover over the keyboard, my mind a jumble of excuses and rehearsed sentences. Every time I try to start, my courage fizzles. I keep chickening out.
Yet with every passing hour, the weight of what I have to do presses a little harder against my chest. I can’t avoid it forever. I just don’t know if I can do it today.
Dinner feels impossibly long. I try to summon the words, taking bites of food that may as well be cardboard. The guys talk around me, but their conversation is stilted.Like they already know.
Finally, at that thought, something in me snaps. I set my fork down, draw in a shaky breath, and just blurt it out.
“I’m pregnant.”
All three of them go totally stock-still, their eyes widening as they look at me. My hands twist nervously in my lap. “You’re the only men I’ve been with in, uh, a very long time. So it has to be one of yours.”
My voice quivers, but I keep going. “I’m about, uh, five weeks along. I think I got pregnant the first time we—” I swallow hard. “The first time we were together.”
The room is silent, but I can see the shock etched across their faces and the way their jaws harden and their eyes lock on me like they suddenly see the world differently. And at that moment, I know nothing will ever be the same.
I just don’t know yet if that’s a good thing or a very, very bad one.
23
BOONE
For a second the world just stops. Roxie’s words hang over the dinner table like a cloud.
Pregnant. Five weeks. One of ours. Fucking hell.
The shock doesn’t last long. Not for me, anyway. I’d spent all day, hell, the last few days, preparing myself for this moment. Coming to terms with themaybebecoming ayes. The second my brain catches up to the truth, something warm and fierce detonates in my chest, so intense it knocks the air straight out of me.
Joy. Real, bone-deep, staggering joy.
I’m out of my chair before I even know I’ve moved. She looks up at me, wide-eyed and terrified, but I refuse to give that fear any room to breathe. I just reach for her, pulling her gently out of her chair and into my arms.
She makes a soft sound against my chest, something halfway between a gasp and a sob, but I hold her tighter, peppering the crown of her head with kisses. “Sweetheart, this is good. This is good news.”
Her hands fist my shirt like she’s been bracing for the opposite and half convinced the blow is still coming. I keep whispering against her head, inhaling the sweet scent of her, even as the certainty of what I’ve only suspected takes time to settle in my bones.
“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s great news. I’m so fucking happy.”
