Page 166 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

“Yes.”

“Or Rex’s.”

“Yes.”

“Or Fletcher’s.”

“Yes.”

Each confirmation feels like I’m stepping deeper into quicksand.

He runs a hand through his hair. “This is complicated.”

I almost laugh, but it comes out brittle.

“That’s one word for it. I didn’t plan this,” I rush. “I wasn’t careless. I just… it happened. And I don’t even know what I want yet.”

He goes very still. Too still. He’s retreating.

I can see it happening.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?”

“For bringing this madness into your house. For lying. For being…” I offer him a one-shouldered shrug, trying to play down how agonizing this is. “Too much.”

His jaw tightens.

“You’re not too much,” he says, but it sounds automatic.

Something he knows he’s supposed to say.

“I don’t know what to do,” I admit. “This isn’t how my life was supposed to go. I was supposed to get stable. Get a job. Not get pregnant in a town where I’m still trying to prove I belong.”

My hand drifts to my stomach without thinking.

“I don’t even know if I want to keep it,” I whisper.

Wayne’s breath catches, almost imperceptible.

“You’re pregnant,” he says slowly. “And it could be my child.”

“Yes.”

He nods once, sharp.

“I’m not making decisions right now.”

He’s shutting down. Pulling inward.

I step closer despite myself.

“I don’t want to lose this,” I say softly. “I don’t want to lose Evan. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want this to be the thing that makes you decide I’m too complicated.”

His eyes flicker, but he doesn’t step toward me, he doesn’t reach for me, and that distance is a canyon.

“This wasn’t the plan,” I whisper.