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I snorted with amusement, my current predicament forgotten. “I hope you at least donated whatever the reporter paid you to a decent charity.”
From the slight twitch of his jaw, I knew he hadn’t. Brody was self-serving. The only charity he supported was himself.
“I didn’t want to do it,” he blurted. “My father told me I needed to come clean, in case people connected me to you. He thought I’d be ostracized if people thought we were still together.”
“And you did what Daddy told you like a good little boy.” Derision coated my words with acid. “I knew we weren’t star-crossed lovers, Brody, but the way you tossed me aside like yesterday’s trash and then sold me out hurt. Not because I loved you - I didn’t - but because I thought we were at least friends.”
The pain of it all had faded, leaving only anger behind, but seeing him here, right now, brought it back. Telling him how he’d hurt me felt good. I needed him to know the damage he’d caused.
“I’m sorry, Estella, truly I am.” His little companion huffed in annoyance. She clearly didn’t appreciate being ignored.
“Can we go now?” she whined, tapping her foot. “It’s getting late, baby, and I want to get the party started.” Her fingers slid around his arm and squeezed.
“Well, um, good to see you again.” He fake-smiled before dragging his friend away.
“Well the feeling isn’t mutual,” I said loudly. “Fuck you!”
I laughed to myself for a few minutes as he practically ran out of the store to escape my crazy. It was amazing how much freer I felt now I’d had a chance to tell Brody exactly what I thought of him. Then I remembered why I was here.
Yeah, the joke was kind of on me. Brody had a nice life to look forward to, where he joined his father’s company, married some trust fund girl, and spawned entitled little brats. Meanwhile, here was I, effectively broke and homeless once I graduated, and probably knocked up to boot.
Yay, I win.
Finally, I found the right shelf. There were dozens of brands to choose from. Some promised to tell me how many weeks along I was, too. I picked four different tests, hoping at least one of them reassured me I wasn’t pregnant, and hurried to the counter.
The cashier barely gave me a second glance as she rang through my purchases and popped them in a paper bag.
I handed over the last of my cash and headed outside to my waiting Uber.Thankfully it was on Harley’s account, so the inflated bill I’d incurred asking the driver to wait around was his problem, not mine. If it turned out Harley was my baby daddy, he had bigger problems than paying for a late-night Uber.
???
“Be right back!” I yelled as I ducked inside the house, managing to avoid any awkward questions from the boys. From the looks of it, the three of them had started a game of poker while they waited for me. Judging by the many empty bottles of beer, we were in for a raucous night. Or they were. I possibly maybe wasn’t drinking anymore.
I dashed into the bathroom and locked the door again, emptying the tests on to the counter. Each one was basically the same: it told me to pee on the stick and wait three minutes or thereabouts. My bladder wasn’t full but I managed to squeeze out enough to fulfill the task. Then I put the tests down and sat on the cold floor to wait.
Sand itched my butt. The housekeeper was due tomorrow, and the poor woman had her work cut out. It was impossible to keep from tracking sand all over the house, especially in the bathrooms where we stripped off after the beach. Or I did at least. The guys tended to shuck off their shorts the moment they hit the deck, uncaring of whether anyone saw them in the buff.
I was a little more modest, mostly because Brax threw a hissy fit if there was any chance someone else might cop a look other than him or the guys.
The seconds on my phone timer ticked away oh-so-slowly. It felt like time had literally stopped. The whole universe was holding its breath, waiting to hear whether I was pregnant. Eventually, the timer buzzed and my stomach clenched. This was it. The reckoning.
Tess’s name appeared on my phone screen. She was no doubt checking up on me to find out whether I’d done a test. I ignored her and grabbed the first test.
Two pink lines. Was that Not Pregnant? In all the panic, I’d forgotten to read the results section of the instructions. The next test was digital. That one was pretty unequivocal. The small screen told me I was PREGNANT.
The other tests had two pink lines or PREGNANT. It didn’t take a genius to know I was expecting.
“Sweetheart, are you OK? We’re freaking out here. Are you sick? Should we call a doctor?”
“Harley’s freaking out, but if you need something, we’re all here, yeah?” Quinn called through the door.
“You’re freaking out too, so don’t pretend otherwise,” I heard Harley snap and then the door rattled.
Any moment now and one of them would bust it wide open and the bill for damages would be horrendous. I threw all the tests and packaging in the trash can and quickly wiped my face. You got this. It was time to face the music.
I unlocked the bathroom door, pushed past them, and walked out on to the deck. The three of them trailed after me, exchanging worried glances with each other.
“I have something I need to tell you guys. You may want to sit down.” Naturally they ignored me and stood with arms folded, tension in their expressions.
