Page 50 of Who's Your Daddy?

I shut my eyes when the memory hits me with blunt-force trauma to the head.

Oh, shit!

The night of Dylan’s bachelor party. I woke up the next morning and couldn’t find the condom or the wrapper. Maybe we didn’t use a condom.

How could I have been so stupid?

And now she might be pregnant.

After twenty minutes, I decide to stop torturing myself with the possibilities of the unknown. I have four pregnancy tests. We’re just going to find out. I grab the paper bag with the tests, step out of the car, and head straight to her room.

I knock. Then knock again. Panic and impatience bubble ruthlessly inside me, and I knock again.

“What!” The door swings open, and the frown lines on Lia’s face deepen when she sees it’s me. “Peter, I told you—”

I push past her, barging straight in without an invitation.

“What is wrong with you?” she shouts, slamming the door shut behind me.

She turns to face me, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s already showered and dressed in red and black plaid pajamas, her hair up in a messy bun. Lia’s an incredibly attractive woman and can usually make anything look good. Not today, though. Today something’s off.

And it’s not like I haven’t seen her dressed down, ready for bed with no makeup. But this particular ensemble irks me because, frankly, she doesn’t look good in her own pajamas. My T-shirts suit her better. It’s just a fact, and my eyes are having trouble accepting her in anything else.

“What do you want?” she asks.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?”

I hand her the bag. “Go into the bathroom, do what you need to do, and tell me what it says.”

Her frown turns into confusion. She sticks her hand into the bag, pulls out a test, and reads the box. Hazel brown eyes shoot up to meet mine. “I’mnotpregnant.”

Her confidence in that answer gives me a tiny glimmer of hope. “You sure?”

“Yes. My cycle is erratic. I haven’t gotten my period in months. And we always used—”

“Did we?”

Doubt creeps in and her shoulders slump. “I’m not pregnant. I can’t be.”

“You can’t be.” It’s not only her words that I echo, but the trepidation in her voice as well. “But let’s just make sure.”

She nods, and without saying a word, disappears into the bathroom. I sit down on the edge of the bed and look around the room. This place is a dump. It’s horrifying that she’s been living here all this time.

I cut that thought off before it goes any further. I remind myself to stick to the plan. No need to be a hero or her knight in shining armor. Her problems are not my problems. She’s not my responsibility. She’s just—

Wait. What if she is? If she’s pregnant, then—

She’s not pregnant.

“I’m pregnant.”

My head snaps toward the bathroom door. Lia’s standing there looking like she’s just seen a ghost. Her breaths are uneven, and the hand holding the test is trembling.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant,” she says again, her voice a strained whisper.

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