Page 101 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

Allison glanced down at her own shirt and winced. Amira wasn’t wrong. Crop tops weren’t exactly her thing, but when maternity fashion seemed determined to shrink everything but your belly, choices were limited.

“You know how slim the options are for maternity clothes that don’t make you look like a potato sack,” Allison said, rolling her eyes. “I refuse to live in sweats.”

Amira nodded sympathetically, running her fingers through her short, stylish hair. The wheels in Allison’s mind started turning. Amira had recently opened her own boutique, and if anyone could create maternity clothes that didn’t scream ‘give up on life’, it was her.

“Do you think you could—”

“YES!” Amira squealed before Allison could finish, jumping up and down like she’d just won the lottery. She twirled in place, swaying her hips in her signature victory dance.

Allison couldn’t help but laugh, feeling like she was back in college, where spontaneous dancing and goofy moments werethe norm. Not that she missed college itself—the constant studying for a double major had been its own kind of hell—but she did miss the simplicity of those days. Back when her biggest concerns were deciding between a study session or a hookup.

And now I’m twenty-three weeks pregnant with a guy who’s more unpredictable than a reality show plot twist.

Her laughter faded, replaced by a sigh as her mood plummeted. Angelo was the human equivalent of a roller coaster. One minute he was sweet and thoughtful, the next he was colder than a freezer, and then, boom—he’d drop something huge, like “Hey, move in with me.” It was exhausting.

“What’s with the frown?” Amira asked, plopping down on the floor in front of her, worry etched on her face.

Allison shook her head. “It’s nothing. Don’t mind me.”

“Hey,” Amira reached out, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Talk to me.”

Despite her desire to keep it all bottled up, the words spilled out. “I just don’t want this to go wrong.” Her thoughts tumbled after one another. “Angelo’s being considerate with the move, but what if he changes his mind and kicks me out in a week? We’re not moving in together because wewantto, we’re doing it for the baby. And what if I screw it up and the baby grows up without a father, and I—”

“Slow down, Allison,” Amira cut in, her voice sharp and steady, slicing through Allison’s rambling.

“But—”

“Nope.”

“I just—”

“No.”

“What if—”

“Allison.No.”

Allison finally stopped, realizing how fast her heart was pounding, how hot her skin felt. She could feel the edges of panic creeping in, threatening to overwhelm her.

No way. I’m not having a panic attack over a guy. Not today.

“Take a deep breath,” Amira said, her voice calm.

Allison did as she was told, inhaling slowly. The fog in her brain lifted slightly.

“Another one.”

The panic faded a little more.

“And one more.”

The panic finally ebbed away.

Amira had always been able to calm her down. It was like a superpower, one of the many reasons Allison loved her so much. Not many people could settle her anxiety like that—well, except for Amira and, annoyingly, Angelo. For reasons she still couldn’t fully understand, he had the ability to quiet her mind just by saying her name.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He made her feel safe one second, only to spin her around in confusion the next.

No wonder I feel like I’m stuck on a carousel.

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