Page 48 of A Really Bad Idea

“Liar! Remember that cookout I had a few years ago when he was doing P90X?”

I bite my lip, and hold back a groan.

Christian was over for a visit to Beth and Brian’s house, and we were all rewarded with him in his shirtless glory. Those abs I love to admire were at their most prime with an accompanied V—the glorious indentations on men that run along their outer abdominal muscles and disappear into their bathing suit.

“You have to tell me if he still has those speed bumps,” she demands.

“He does,” I say too quickly and then wave off her slack-jawed expression with a dismissive hand. “The Gallaghers had a pool party last summer. You missed it because of Dylan’s baseball game.”

“Fucking baseball. Makes me miss all the abs.” She pouts, and I make a face.

“Don’t fantasize about Christian. It’s weird.”

“I can’t now that he’s your baby daddy.”

I make another face. “Don’t call him that either.”

“What do you want me to call him? The sperm donor?” She’s being pithy, but I get it. This is the type of thing people will say when they find out.

“Just call him Christian.” I hold up the blue sandals she had her eyes on since we first walked in here. “And buy these?”

She nods, and we walk toward the register.

We’re in line for a hot minute before she asks her next inappropriate question. “Are you going to play naughty nurse and doctor in bed?”

“For the love of—”

She waves a hand, as if fanning herself. “Doctor! Oh, doctor! I’m burning up. I think I’m coming down with something. Shall I take my pants off because I need a physical?”

I push my hand into her face that has now gotten ridiculously close to my ear and shake my head. “I don’t even want to know what you do behind closed doors.”

“Let me tell you about this swing—”

“You told me,” I cut that conversation short.

Without a few drinks, I’m even more disinterested in hearing about the bedroom swing my straitlaced brother bought for them. It’s quite comical because, looking at Beth with her short-sleeved sweater and capri pants, she’s the picture of prim and proper. She’s silly with me, but most people don’t get a true read on her inner workings. She’s like a vault—keeping everything secret from the outside world, only showing what she wants to be seen. It’s why she’s always been my sounding board. And, for this life event, my one person. I’m glad I told her my secret. Christian was right. I feel better.

Beth pays for her shoes, and we’re walking out of the store when I stop before heading in our respective directions.

“Hey, listen,” I start, and she turns, sensing the seriousness of what I’m about to say.

Her eyes soften as she looks at me with her full attention, letting me know she will hear me out.

“I told you about this because I’m nervous, and I wanted to tell my sister. Don’t tell anyone. Brian will hate the idea, and my parents will ask a million questions. I already know they’re going to try to make us get married before the baby comes. If there’s a baby. It’s just easier if you keep this a secret.”

She smiles as she pulls me into a hug. “Absolutely. I’m here for you. Whatever you decide, I support you. It’s your body and your life. I’d never try to stand in the way of that.”

“Thanks.” I step back.

“If I ask questions, it’s because I care about you. I’m kind of excited you and Christian are doing this. Like I said before, your babies will be gorgeous.” She waggles her brows and swings an arm around my shoulders. “Can I offer a piece of advice?”

“Can I stop you?”

She shakes her head and talks as we walk out of the store, “Even if you get pregnant on the first try, I’d lie and ride it out to the six months.”

“Beth!” I scold.

“No-strings sex with Christian Gallagher for six months? Girl, it’s the least he can do for the lifetime of hard work you will endure, raising his child.”