Page 32 of Knocked Up in Alaska

Shielding her face with one hand, she sat and held up her other hand in a silent request for space and time. “S-sorry. Hormones. Sorry.”

“Lilah…” Izzy ran a hand down her back, up again, offering comfort.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. F-f-fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Bridget pointed out from her other side. “I like Ford, but I like you better, so just tell me how you want me to kill him and I’ll take care of it. No one will ever know.”

Izzy said, “Bridget,” in a stern tone that had Lilah picturing the narrow-eyed warning look she often leveled at her friend, but the over-the-top show of solidarity wrenched a laugh from her, as Bridget had no doubt intended. Unfortunately, once the first laugh escaped, she couldn’t seem to stop more from bubbling up. Next thing she knew, she was laughing hysterically, helpless to stop.

Well, this is new.

Also, painful, like really bad hiccups, plus tears still streamed from her eyes…and nose.

You are a pathetic, pregnant, horny, hot mess.

When the wracking laughter finally started to subside, Izzy shoved a wad of tissue into her hand. She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and slouched against the back of the sofa between her concerned friends who absolutely deserved the truth after dealing with her mini breakdown.

“You don’t have to kill Ford,” she told Bridget. “He didn’t do anything wrong, and even so, he’s probably praying for death, thanks to me.”

“Why don’t you tell us what happened, and we’ll be the judges?” Izzy suggested.

“Okay. Um. This is really embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m going to say it out loud.”

“More embarrassing than the time I broke my butt climbing the totem pole?” Bridget asked.

She met her friend’s eyes with an unflinching stare. “Yes.”

“More embarrassing than falling face-first into mud after being chased down the middle of Main Street by a flock of wild geese?”

“Yes, Izzy. Way more.”

Bridget sat back and folded her arms. “This ought to be good.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face, thinking of the right way to begin. “You know I spent last night at Ford’s place.”

“Check.” Bridget said.

“I showed up on his doorstep really late—or really early, depending on how you look at it—but anyway, I obviously got him out of bed. He answered the door all…” At a loss for how to describe the disheveled manliness of his uncombed hair, his stubbly jaw, and overall shirtlessness, she waved her hands around her head and upper body.

“Mmm.” Bridget nodded appreciatively. “Male animal in the raw.”

“Not naked,” Lilah quickly corrected.

“We know,” Izzy assured her. “In the raw, not in the buff. Just all rumpled and scruffy.”

“Yeah.” Unconsciously, she fanned her face with her hand. “Exactly. And you know how I’ve been experiencing increased, um…” More hand motions in the general vicinity of her lap.

“Sex drive,” Bridget helpfully supplied.

“Right. So, because of this, I really noticed Ford’s…all of his size and muscles and big hands and dark eyes. Not in a friendly way. I mean, he’s good-looking. I’ve known that all along. I can think that as a friend without getting all worked up over it. But lately I’ve been noticing him as a…well, as a—”

“As a man?” Izzy offered.

Heat blazed back to her cheeks and forehead. “Yes.”

Bridget leaned in, smiling. “Delilah Iquat, did you put a move on Ford?”

“No!”

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