Page 85 of Four More The Merrier

None of the guys mentioned having a stomach virus, or eating anymore gas station sushi for that matter.

"Oh fuck." It hits me like a ton of bricks.

I sink to the cold bathroom tile, my mind racing. When was my last period? Between the touring and the drama, I'd completely lost track. December? No, before that. November?

"Oh my god." My hands shake as I pull up my period tracking app. The little calendar mocks me with its neat rows of empty squares stretching back weeks.

I grab my phone and open DoorDash, fingers trembling so badly I have to retype "pregnancy test" three times. The closest drugstore is only ten minutes away. I add a pack of ginger ale and saltines to settle my stomach, then hit order.

Twenty excruciating minutes later, my phone pings. I peek through the peephole before opening the door, terrified I'll see one of the guys instead of my dasher.

The package is mercifully discrete in its brown paper bag.

"Thank God for life's small miracles." I mutter to myself.

I tear it open, hands clumsy with urgency, and read the instructions twice. Three minutes. I can do this.

I pace the bathroom floor, counting tiles to keep from watching the stick on the counter. One Mississippi, two Mississippi... The timer on my phone feels like it's moving in slow motion.

When it finally chimes, I nearly jump out of my skin. I force myself to take a deep breath before looking down.

Two pink lines stare back at me, clear as day.

"Oh no, no, no..." I grab the box, reading the instructions again. Maybe I did it wrong. But there's no mistaking that plus sign.

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor, the positive test still clutched in my shaking hand. The nausea returns full force, but this time it has nothing to do with morning sickness.

I clutch the test in my trembling hands, still staring at those damning pink lines until they blur. The bathroom tile is cold under me, but I can't bring myself to move.

"You stupid, stupid girl." My voice echoes off the bathroom walls. "What were you thinking?"

What am I going to do? And more importantly - whose is it?

My phone buzzes again - Lyle's name flashing on the screen. I silence it, adding it to the growing list of missed calls and texts from all four of them. The thought of facing any of them right now makes me physically ill. Or maybe that's just the morning sickness.

"Okay, think." I press my palms against my temples. "Think, think, think."

The tour has four shows left. Two weeks of pretending everything's fine and Jarron didn't rip out my fucking heart all while I battle barfing in front of audiences every night. The tabloids will have a field day. 'Just South of Mason's Opening Act: Raging Alcoholic? Or Maybe Pregnant with Mystery Band Member's Baby!'

I can see the headlines now. Their carefully cultivated bad-boy image would crumble into something much darker. Record sales would plummet. Tours would be canceled. All because I couldn't keep my feelings - or my legs - in check.

"I can't do this to them." The words come out in a choked whisper. "As much as Jarron is a dick, I can't. They've worked too hard."

My hand drifts to my still-flat stomach. Somewhere in there is a tiny piece of... someone. Beau's quiet strength? Lyle's infectious laugh? Austen's creative spark? Jarron's hidden vulnerability?

The thought sends fresh tears streaming down my face. I don't even know who the father is. What kind of person does that make me? Not any better than any of the groupies they've brought back over the years.

"I have to go." The decision crystallizes, sharp and clear through the chaos in my head. "I have to leave before anyone finds out."

I push myself up off the floor, legs shaky but determination growing stronger with each step. I can disappear. Go somewhere they'll never find me. Protect their careers, their futures.

My hands shake as I dial Tommy's number. Three rings later, his gruff voice answers.

"This better be good, kid. It's late."

"I quit." The words come out in a rush. "I can't do this anymore."

A long pause follows. "You what now?"

---