Chapter Eight
Scarlett
“I’m in the doctor’s office, legs spread, wearing one of those paper gowns. And the tech has that cold-ass wand up my hoo-ha. I still think there’s no way, but… there she is. Little heartbeat and everything,” I finally tell Mia, after trying to hide my pregnancy for as long as I could.
Of course, she knew. She always knows. In my dream, Mia says all the things I’ve been saying to myself.
“How could you possibly let this happen? Why didn’t you take your birth control? What are you going to do?”
All fair questions.How could I let this happen?
“How are you going to pay for it? What about the ballet? You’ve just ruined your life. You are so stupid!”
This wasn’t dream Mia talking. This was me.
My eyes flash open, and I realize I am in a hospital room. Everything hurts. It isn't a debilitating ache, but a dull and persistent one.
I assess my situation and look around the room: small, sterile, and loud. Something is beeping in my ear, and I can't move to turn it off.
A nurse comes running into my room, looking frantic. “Oh, you’re awake.” She seems startled. “Good. We need to get your vitals,” she turns off the beeping sound, “and your IV bag is empty. I’ll get you a new one. I’m Christine. How are you feeling this morning?”
How am I feeling? Where am I? Who am I? Why am I in the hospital?
“Um,” is the most brilliant response I can muster.
“Don’t worry. You’ve been through a lot. No need to speak. I’ll let Dr. Myers know you’re awake.” She offers a kindly grin, and for a second, I think everything is great.
I feel mildly comfortable and also pretty miserable. Then it comes crashing back to me.Oh fuck, I'm pregnant. I’m supposed to have a baby in a week!I put my hand on my belly to touch her, to make sure she is there and she is okay.
I feel nothing but soft spongy flesh and an empty womb.
An impossibly tall, dashing man with salt-and-pepper hair comes rushing into the room wearing a white lab coat. All I can do is look at him wide-eyed and panicked.
“Where’s my baby?” I nearly scream at the man.
“She’s in the nursery upstairs. They’ve downgraded her from the NICU.” His voice is even and calm.
“I need to see her, I need to know she’s okay.” God, it hurts to talk.
“When you’re feeling better. You have some pretty severe injuries. I’m Dr. Myers.” He takes a deep breath and sits down in the chair next to my bed, scooting it closer.
His stare is intense and a little unnerving, but also familiar. Too familiar. I focus on his name badge as he brings his chair closer:Dr. Beckett Myers.
Beckett Myers,I think to myself.
“Beckett,” my lips play with the word.
“Yes.” His intense eyes scrutinize me as if he expects me to say something—a confession or some sort of recognition of wrongdoing or guilt.
“You’re Beckett Myers,” I say mostly to myself.
“I think we’ve established that.”
“You’re Mia’s asshole brother.”
Oopsand…oh fuck, those lips, that salt-and-pepper hair, the perfect muscles that no clothing can hide. No… no. Please, God no.
“True, but impolite to mention it.” He is cold and distant. “You are Scarlett Cross, Mia’s roommate and childhood best friend. While I’ve never met you… officially.” His voice lowers and his expression darkens. “I’ve known about you for years.”
