Page 41 of A Moment for Us
“If you say so.”
I turn my head to him. “I do.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not even upset?” I ask, feeling a little miffed.
“I would be if I thought that were true.”
Ugh. I get up, pulling the sheet off the bed—and him. Which is a mistake because, damn that man is glorious when he’s naked. Or dressed. Really, it doesn’t matter.
“I came here with a plan,” I say as I drop the sheet and look for my pants. “I was going to tell you I didn’t want to do this anymore, get back over you, and start my life.” I shove my leg through the wrong pantleg and groan. “But no, you have to be reading . . . my book!” I keep ranting, again starting to wonder if maybe sex with Josh has done something to my sanity. “So, what happens?”
“You sleep with me?” Josh so unhelpfully answers my rhetorical question.
“Not again, buddy. No more sex for you and do you know why?” Josh puts his hands behind his head, staring up at me. “Because I need more, Josh. I need . . . I need to go,” I say now that I have my pants fully on. “I’m not doing this again. We’re not doing this again.”
“If you say so.”
I grab my book and sweater. “I do. I say so.”
“Okay then, as you said the last time, thank you for . . . this.”
I glare at him. “You are so not welcome.”
And with that, I make the dramatic exit I have dreamed of doing, with one arm in my shirt, which is still mostly bunched up around my neck.
Perfect.
Chapter 12
Delia
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
Can one say that too many times while staring at a pregnancy test?
A positive one.
No, I don’t think one can.
Oh. My. God.
This is false. It has to be. I’m on the pill. I’ve been on the pill for years, and . . . I can’t.
I let out a deep breath, fighting back the tears that are building, and decide that, today, I am not going to deal with this because I’m not pregnant.
I’m not.
That would be so much easier to believe if my period weren’t two weeks late.
I’m never late. Ever.
If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’m so regular it’s not normal. Each day, I’ve pretended that it was fine, and it was nothing, but . . . it’s . . . not. Maybe.
Stella laughs loudly in the dressing room, and I hear Jess sigh deeply. This is supposed to be a day of stress-free fun. In a few days, Stella and Jack will have their second wedding, and it’s all amazing things.
Except now I want to cry, more stressed about those two little lines than I want to admit.
