Nick is beside me instantly. “Enya—shit—are you okay?”
I wipe my mouth, mortified. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he says, voice tight. “You’re pale, you’re shaking—did you eat today? Are you sick?”
“I said I’m fine.”
He reaches out like he wants to steady me. “Let me take you to a hospital.”
“No.”
“Enya—”
Damn it!
“I’m pregnant.”
His whole body goes still.
Eyes widening. Breath-halting. Shoulders locking like he’s bracing for impact.
He gapes at me as if the ground beneath him has shifted.
I lift my chin. “So now you know.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “Pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“With…my….”
“No,” I fling at him. “The neighbor’s.”
He actually looks to the right as if trying to see who the neighbor is, and then shakes his head. “You’re having our baby.”
“Yes,” I groan out.
A thousand emotions flicker across his face—shock, fear, awe, a brightness dangerously close to joy.
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he announces.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes,” he murmurs, stepping closer, voice low and steady in a way that terrifies me, “I am.”
I back up, shaking. “I threw up. Pregnant women throw up. And I have already seen a doctor, thank you very much.”
“You saw a doctor without telling me?”
I roll my eyes.Yeah, buddy, I did because I didn’t know what your real name was.
“You don’t get to control me.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not controlling anything. I’m taking care of you.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Well.” He gives me a long, deliberate look. “I’m going to anyway.”
