So I told her.
Devin first, because he was the easiest to talk about—charming, attentive, emotionally intuitive in a way few men ever were. Mom hummed approvingly when I described how he always made me laugh, the way he never let me feel silly for being scared.
Then Alex—my dark, quiet, unsmiling Alex with his razor-sharp mind and protective instincts that could smother you if you didn’t understand them. Mom listened, fascinated, and only said, “He sounds like someone who never got to be soft but wants to learn.”
And finally…Jonathan.
I felt my face heat just saying his name. “He’s…complicated,” I admitted. “Strong. And so responsible it hurts him, I think.”
I told her how steady he made me feel. How safe. How intense. How his touch lingered on me in ways that weren’t always physical.
Mom hummed again. “You sound like you care very deeply for them.”
“I do,” I whispered. “I really do.”
Something clicked inside me as I said it out loud. A certainty I hadn’t let myself name yet. I wanted them. Not just right now. Not just because they protected me. But long-term. Real. Messy. Lasting.
Before I could say any of that, though, my phone buzzed.
A notification.
A bright pink one from my period app, asking me to log the symptoms of a period that should be nearly over. A period that was days late after I’d been clockwork regular for my entire menstruating life.
My heart basically stopped, and so did time.
“Frankie?” Mom asked. “Are you still there?”
“Uh—yeah,” I said, voice cracking. “Sorry, Mom, I—uh—I have to go. Work stuff. I’ll call later, okay? I love you.”
“I love you too, sweetheart?—”
I hung up before she could finish.
A sharp, dizzy panic spiraled through my chest. My hands were suddenly clammy. My breath too shallow. I counted, recounted, checked my calendar app obsessively.
I was at least four days late.
The birth control pills were still in my purse. Half-used. I’d been so distracted—Paris, the threat, the hospital, sleeping at the guys’ house, the sex?—
Oh god.
Darla had warned me. Practically begged me to set alarms. I’d ignored her.
My vision tunneled slightly.
Pregnant. I could be pregnant. Oh shit. And with whose baby? My brain was spinning too fast to process it.
I stood up on shaky legs and locked the office door, taking deep breaths.
First, I needed to finish my shift. Then, I needed a pregnancy test.
26
ALEX
The private room on the second floor of the city’s swankiest gentleman’s club always smelled like cigars, velvet, and desperation, even with the windows cracked.
Below us, the floor murmured with low music and laughter that didn’t belong to any of the men gathered around this polished table. Half the room was stacked with black duffel bags—cash in some, guns in others. I didn’t bother keeping track anymore.
