Page 19 of Seven of Hearts

“Present.” My brother elbowed his way through and gave me a hug. “Happy birthday, bro.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as that tight feeling in my chest began to grow. It was only my family, but suddenly, I wanted to shapeshift into a fly on the wall.

I didn’t like being the center of attention. Will was always trying to push me into central roles at work, and I hated it.

Leading the Chicago launch team was a compromise. I got out of Beaufort, and he put me in a leadership role.

“There you are!” Kristin weaseled her way between bodies and pulled me into a hug. “You don’t call. You don’t text. You’re three hours late. I was worried sick.”

Will peeled her away, giving me a chance to breathe. “Happy birthday," he said.

“Thanks.”

Thankfully, the crowd moved as an amoeba into the kitchen where pizza boxes were piled high. I made the rounds as people filed in—saying hello to the DeRossis, the Pelhams, the McGraths, and the Brannans—before parking myself on the couch with a slice and a beer.

I’d stick around for an hour or so, pick up on something memorable to regurgitate when I inevitably had to tell Kristin how much I had enjoyed myself, and then slip upstairs to the guest room.

Kylie and Bryan filled out the rest of the couch, recounting their European travels. I had already seen the thousands of pictures she had texted me and heard Bryan’s stories during his first day back at work, but I listened intently anyway.

Someone broke out the playing cards and started shuffling and dealing everyone in.

“Luca and Maddie hooked us up with a couples’ cooking class when we were in Italy, and it was the best time,” Kylie said as she passed me her phone to show me a video of her and Bryan making pasta.

I rested my stack of cards on my thigh and took her phone. As I watched the video of Kylie laughing on screen with flour covering her cheeks and hands, showing off a poorly made ravioli, a text popped up at the top of the screen.

Leah:A little better today. I only threw up once, so hopefully it’s passing. At least Gio and Ellie are back in school.

“What the hell?”I muttered as I passed Kylie’s phone back.

Just seeing Leah’s name made desire flare up inside me. It was a sharp contrast to the constant numbness I lived with.

Kylie opened the text and typed out a quick reply, telling Leah to let her know if she needed anything.

“Is Leah okay?” I asked, glancing at the cards dealt to me. I hoped my voice sounded normal, not the choked, nervous tremor I struggled to disguise as neutral.

“Yeah,” Kylie said, her attention focused on her phone as she texted. “Leah’s pregnant. Morning sickness has been kicking her butt.”

"What?” Everything went numb. She hadn’t been dating anyone at the wedding. And now she was pregnant?

Kylie glanced up. “Shit. That’s not supposed to be public knowledge yet, so keep it to yourself. She’s keeping it quiet since she’s still in her first trimester.”

First trimester.

My fingers tightened around my playing cards, and heart palpitations made me lightheaded. “How, uh...how many weeks is she?”

Leah and I had hooked up a few months ago. But we had used a condom . . . It couldn’t . . . Surely I hadn’t . . .

Maybe Leah had started seeing someone new. That was it. But that also didn’t make me feel any better.

Kylie thought for a moment. “She’s fourteen weeks along this week. Hopefully, she’ll feel up to that dinner I texted you about. I wanted the two of you to come over so Bryan and I could say thank you for all the work you did on the wedding.”

Fourteen weeks—that was just over three months. And it had been just over three months to the day since I’d slept with Leah Holloway.

The front door opened and closed, and the Lawsons shuffled in with their daughter, Ellie, in tow. Gio DeRossi was around here somewhere, which meant Leah wasn’t working tonight.

Without a word, I got up and walked out the door.

I didn’t even realize I had taken my playing cards with me. The drive to Leah’s apartment was a blur. I was surprised I had remembered how to get there. Even though I had been there a handful of times during Kylie’s wedding week, the blood roaring in my ears probably meant there was very little left to make my brain function.

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