“I’m going to eat your muffin, then.” She looks sad all of a sudden. “I started my period yesterday, which means I’m craving sweet things.”
“Oh, no.” I rub her arm.
“We’ve been having sex every night since I threw away the pill. Okay, that’s not true; we were having sex every night before then, too.” She snickers.
I frown. “That’s a little too much information.”
“Not that sex with Ridge is a hardship.” She grins. “It isn’t. Not at all. I could have sex with him day and?—”
“Okay, now! That really is TMI, babe. Not to mention that you’re making those of us with zero sex life a little jealous.”
She laughs. “That’s your own damned fault.” She gets serious. “I’m not pregnant. I thought it would happen quickly, despite my age.” She makes a sad face.
“You’ve been trying for all of five minutes. It’ll happen. Enjoy the ride.”
She nods. “You are right. I’m so glad the bridesmaid’s dress fitted Cath and that the color works on her too,” Robyn says, looking over at her sister. “You need to stop worrying about your figure already. You can have a muffin.” She points at the plate of muffins again. They look so good.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“It isn’t like you to be hung up on something so—” She waves her hand. “Trivial.”
“Fitting into my dress next weekend is hardly trivial.” I sigh. “I’ve worked hard for four weeks,” I say, “and I’m still only a pound down. It’s irritating. They say when you turn thirty it all goes downhill. I never believed the rumors until today.”
Robyn laughs. “You’re not even thirty yet.”
“Semantics. I’ll be thirty in less than three months.”
“You’re still seriously young.”
“Why haven’t I lost any more weight? I haven’t touched chocolate or alcohol. I’m eating turkey and chicken breast. We won’t even talk about all the lettuce and cucumber. I’m just irritated. That’s all. I plan on having all the food next weekend. I swear, I’ll ease up after that. There’s one good thing about you not being pregnant.”
Her face falls. “What would that be?”
“We get to drink copious amounts of champers on your wedding day.”
“That’s true. I’m glad you’re going to go easy on yourself for my big day. In fact, I’m holding you to it.”
There’s laughing at the entrance, and I look over there.
It’s him!
He’s here.
It’s him, dammit!
Stay cool!
Magma comes through the door behind Flint.
Holy shit! Holy crap! It’s him!
I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks; I’ve been dreading it and looking forward to it. I’ve been running it through my head over and over on repeat.
And here we are.
I’m panicking.
I need to stop!
