Page 51 of The Bridges I've Burned

“Doesn’t mean I can’t acknowledge that he’s hot.” She shrugged. “And you’re totally right. Adam Levine clone, all the way.”

“Good God,” I muttered. “Who are you? Is this a pregnancy symptom? I think I liked it better when you went fifty shades of red when talking about anything remotely sexual.”

“Oh, I’m not completely cured. Mention a vibrator, and I turn into a tomato.” It was true. She was already fidgeting on the couch and blushing.

I raised my pointer finger in the air. “You just gave me the perfect idea for a baby shower gift! Every new mom needs one.”

Her eyes went wide. “Don’t you dare! My mother will be there.”

Giggles filled the living room, healing my soul bit by bit.

“Thanks for coming over,” I said finally.

“Thanks for spending these three weeks with me. I know it wasn’t easy to take the time off.”

I thought those words over. “No, but maybe it should be.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…” I let out a sigh. “Ever since Chad and I broke up, I keep going out on these dates, hoping I’ll, what? Meet someone? But what’s the point? It’s not like I have anything to offer them. My life is that job.”

She gave me a warm smile. “Then, maybe this vacation is just what you need. Just consider you and your job officially on a break.” I grimaced, and she just shook her head. “How many times have you checked your email?”

“A few times,” I confessed.

“I’ll go in your room right now and confiscate that laptop, I swear to God.”

I pressed my lips together to stop from grinning. “You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” I told her. I’d never meant anything more. This was a role she’d take on effortlessly, and I couldn’t wait to see her embrace it.

“And you’re going to be an amazing aunt,” she assured me.

I swallowed, feeling emotional all over again.

I wasn’t technically going to be an aunt. But she knew that.

I also knew that she didn’t care about technicalities.

“No,” I corrected her. “I’m going to be the best aunt.”

Her face broke out into a wide grin. “Well, my sister already said the same thing so?—”

“Margo thinks she can beat me? Oh, it’s on.” I rubbed my hands together like some maniacal villain. “How do you feel about monograms? Designer diaper bag? Oh! Chandelier in the nursery!”

“Oh God, this kid is gonna be spoiled.”

Hell yeah, she is.

One of the weirdest things so far about this vacation—aside from my temporary roommate—was the lack of an alarm clock. I’d woken up to that jarring sound blasting in my eardrums ever since I was a kid. Even on the weekends, I was an early riser, always heading to the gym or catching up on a bit of work before I started my day.

But when I had gotten to Ocracoke, I’d forced myself to go without. It was vacation after all, right? And vacation was all about relaxation and a disconnect from reality.

But after two days, I’d decided I really fucking hated it.

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes to the morning sun. The morning sun? I never got up when it was light outside.

What time is it?

Where the hell am I?

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