Thinking back . . . I cringe. Yup. All common sense when out the door once pants were shucked. I’m one of those girls. One of those girls you look at and think in this day of age, how can you possibly forget about birth control or condoms?And I’m a freaking nurse.I should know better.Ugh,I do know better.
Two words: Hayden’s cock.
Oh God, it is such a nice cock. Long and thick with the perfect head. Slightly curved up so every time he pulsed inside me, it was reaching for that one spot, that one spot he hit every time.
“Oh Adalyn.” I don’t have to answer; my silence is enough. She knows. “How is that possible?”
Burying my head in my knees, I say, “It was the dick. The dick did it to me.”
Sighing on the other end of the phone, Emma says, “Damn the dick. Damn all the dicks.”
My sentiment exactly.
* * *
I’m not pregnant.
Nope.
After my revelation this morning, my minor slip-up on the no-baby train, I have convinced myself I am in fact not pregnant. There is no way Hayden’s athletic sperm, which I’m sure is super healthy and ready to impregnate, broke through my superior eggs. Nope, my eggs are on total lockdown.
Not only do my eggs laugh at little sperm who try to break through, but they are reinforced with steel metal and surrounded by sperm-eating acid.
You read that correctly: sperm-eating acid.
There are only a few of us who possess such defenses in our uteruses, and I am one of them. A medical marvel I must say.
And to hammer it home, I’ve spent the entire morning talking to my uterus, telling her that she’s still a single lady and she’s not eating for two.
It has helped. I’ve completely forgotten about forgetting to take my pills, or letting Hayden pound into me thrust after thrust with nothing separating my superior eggs from his athletic man-sperm.
Yup, not thinking about it at all.
Not one bit.
Leaning against the wall of a hospital, I squeeze my eyes shut.
I’m so pregnant.
My nipples have been tingling all morning, isn’t that a sign? That has to be a sign. And my scrubs are tighter. It’s not my imagination, they are tighter and yeah, I might have been eating more cake than normal, but it’s because I’m pregnant.
There is life inside of me.
Shit . . .
I can’t think like that. You are not pregnant, Adalyn.
Repeat after me: you are not pregnant. You are not pregnant.
“Hey there.” Logan bumps my shoulder, leaning against the stark hospital wall with me, glancing at the clipboard clutched to my chest. “Holding back some secret information?”
“What?” I take in the clipboard I have a death grip on. “Uh, no, just . . . God, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Ah.” Logan knowingly nods his head. “So you’ve heard.”
So I’ve heard? Heard what? Oh God, can he tell I’m pregnant already?
I know, I’m in the medical field, I know how babies are conceived, it doesn’t show that quickly but I’m borderline hysterical right now so my mind is not quite making any sense.
