Page 62 of Pretty Little Disaster

“Of course, I do.” I smile, watching him close the door and round the hood. Once he gets behind the wheel, I feel that warm comfort flow through me when his hand rests on my stomach, the way it always does when he drives.

“So, do you know that girl well?” I question, trying to sound unaffected by what was said.

“Not really, her father is well-respected among the leaders. I’ve seen her and her friend at a few parties in the past.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal but I get the sense that there's more to it. I saw the way those girls changed when he showed up, until then, they had barely spoken a word.

“Have you ever slept with any of them?” I get straight to the point.

“Have I…No.” Nic takes his eyes off the road and frowns. “Why would you even ask that?”

“You can’t really blame me, it sounded to me like your reputation precedes you.” I look down at my stomach and feel pathetic for even mentioning it. I shouldn’t be letting those bitches get to me when I have much bigger things to focus on.

“Lorna, you have to be kidding.” He shakes his head and laughs, and when I remain very serious, he looks deflated.

“No, I haven’t slept with either of them.” His hand grips the wheel and I can see he’s tense. “But…my dad did want me to marry the one with the very fake tits,” he adds.

“The one with the… Do you not even know her name?” I stare back at him, disgusted.

“I did, I just can’t remember it now, and do you know why?” He looks back at me. “Because she was irrelevant then, and she’s irrelevant now.”

“But you noticed the fake tits,” I add, knowing that I’m being pathetic, but also that I’m entitled to be. I’m pregnant, hormonal, and sensitive. He should have to deal with a little of it too.

“Lorna, a blind man would notice those fake tits. They’re ridiculous.”

“Oh, please. Don’t be like that.” The last thing I want thrown into this now is sympathy.

“Be like what?” Nic still plays at being confused.

“All men like big tits, especially fake, big tits.” I push his hand away from me, but he quickly rests it straight back.

“Not this guy. If I liked them that much I would have married her.” His clever response puts an end to our conversation, but not to the thoughts in my head. Suddenly, I feel enraged with jealousy. I can feel it heating up inside me and spreading through my veins but I manage to keep it controlled as Nic drives back to our apartment.

“I got it,” I tell him, holding the frame of the car door and trying to heave myself out of the seat when he opens the car door and offers to help me out.

“Babe, why don’t you just let me help you?” He stands patiently while I try to get the right angle.

“Because I don’t need help, I’m not an invalid,” I remind him.

“No, but you are very pregnant and clearly struggling, so?—”

“I wouldn’t be struggling if your car wasn’t so stupidly low!” I snap, hating that I have to give up and take the help he’s offering.

“There we go.” He aids me onto my feet, and I growl in frustration as he kisses my cheek, then leans back inside the car to pick up my purse for me.

“So, how many other fake bitches did your father line up for you to marry?” I can’t resist asking as we make our way toward the elevator.

“I don’t know, five, maybe six.” He shrugs as the doors open and we both step inside. “Does it matter, now?”

I can see that he gets off on the fact that it clearly fucking does, and I turn my back to deny him any more satisfaction.

“You're sexy as hell when you're hormonal,” he teases me, and when the door pings open he takes out his keys and unlocks the door to the apartment.

I kick off my heels and head straight to the bedroom so I can get out of this dress.

“Hey...” He follows after me and once I lift the stretchy fabric up over my head I look down at my own tits and sigh. Sure, they’ve grown a lot since I’ve been pregnant, but they’re still nowhere as big as those fake ones.

Maybe I should get a tit job done once I’m done being pregnant, it would help ensure they don’t sag.

“What are you doing?” Nic comes up behind me, cupping them both in his hands through my bra as if he can read the thoughts in my mind.

---