My mouth opens and closes as I fight to find the words I need.
I want to tell her that she needs to slow down, that she’s getting carried away with herself. But…is she?
Things with Bea are moving faster than I ever thought possible. Even if none of it is by choice. It’s happening, nonetheless.
I stare at my sister, taking in the excitement twinkling in her eyes.
She’s desperate for me to find someone who might be able to rein me in a little. I’m not sure she ever thought it would happen quite like this, though.
“She’s…” I start, trying for a second time to force the words past the lump that’s formed in my throat. “She’s…pregnant.”
Parker stills, her brows pinching as she continues staring at me.
“P-pregnant,” she repeats, and I nod, giving her the time and space to figure this out. “With…your baby?”
My heart thumps so hard I can feel it in my toes.
Is telling your sister you’re going to be a father meant to be this hard?
No, because you’re meant to be in a happy, committed relationship before any of this happens.
“Yeah, PK. With my baby.” The words feel alien coming out of my mouth, but that doesn’t mean they’re not true. They are. I’ve seen that little baby with my own eyes. Well, kinda. It didn’t exactly look like a baby. More a weird black and white fuzzy shape.
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.”
“And she’s what? Your girlfriend?”
Christ, that sounds fucking weird.
“It’s complicated.”
“Can it get any more complicated than her being pregnant? Rett, for fuck’s sake. Did you fuck her bare? I thought you were more sensible than that with puck bunnies.”
Fire shoots through my veins at Parker’s assumption.
“She’s not a puck bunny,” I snap, a little more forcefully than I was expecting.
Parker holds her hands up in surrender.
“Sorry,” she says, but suspicion still swims in her eyes.
“And for the record, I did wrap it. And she was on the pill.”
“So she says,” she mutters under her breath.
My lips purse and my grip on my mug tightens to the point I think it might shatter in my hands.
“She’s not a liar,” I state confidently.
“Do you even know her?”
“Of course,” I bark back, but quickly regret it. Do I?
Sure, Bea has told me some things about her. And I’ve seen inside her uterus. But do I know her?
All that stuff she told me last night about her family could be bullshit. It could be nothing more than a ploy to get herself tangled up with me to ensure her future.
