Page 69 of Baby By my Best Friend's Daddy

“I can’t do this now, Landon,” I said.

“Just hear me out,” Landon started.

“No,” I said. “I’ve had a rough night, and I just want to get into bed and sleep.”

“You owe me a conversation,” Landon said.

I stared at him, and my frustration, my exhaustion, turned into anger.

“Excuse me? Where do you get off demanding an explanation from me?”

“We can’t just leave things like this,” Landon said. “We should talk.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk? After you kicked me out?”

“Is that what this is about? You’re ignoring me because I asked you to leave so I could talk to Brad alone?”

“It would have been nice if you’d let me stay,” I said sarcastically. “You know, since that discussion was my business, too, and not just yours.”

Landon shook his head. “Let’s calm down, go inside, and discuss this.” His voice was calm, but I wasn’t ready to be calm and talk things out like a grownup. I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to fight with him. I understood anger. Anger felt better than pain, and I’d had way too much pain to want to deal with more.

“I’m not letting you into my house,” I said and pushed past him, walking to my front door.

“Rebecca—”

“Ah!” I cried out and doubled over. A sharp pain shot into my back, pulling through to my lower stomach, and I struggled to stay upright.

“Rebecca?” Landon asked, concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said and breathed hard, trying to breathe my way through the pain. I’d had this damn backache for nights on end now, but this was worse than anything I’d felt before. “I just need to—ahh!”

I sank to my knees.

“You’re not okay,” Landon said. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

I nodded. I didn’t fight him now. Something was seriously wrong, and if we didn’t do something, I didn’t know what would happen. I couldn’t bear the idea of losing the baby.

Landon held my arm by the elbow, supporting me without getting in my personal space, and helped me into his car. He ran around the back of the car and got behind the wheel next to me.

“Put the seat back,” he said. “Lie down, do what you need to do to ease the pain.”

I did as he said and put the seat back. I didn’t put on a seatbelt—instead, I lay on my side, curling my legs up. The pains got worse, shooting through my body, and I struggled to breathe. Panic threatened to choke me.

“Landon,” I said in a small voice.

He grabbed my hand and held on tight.

“I’m here,” he said.

He flew through the streets of Seattle, weaving in and out of traffic. I couldn’t see anything lying down, but I knew he broke every traffic law in the city.

In no time at all, his tires screeched into the hospital emergency bay. He stopped where the ambulances always stopped.

“You can’t park here,” I gasped.

Landon ignored me. He jumped out of the car, yelling for the doctors to come to me while he ran around the car. He yanked open my door, and by the time he lifted me out of the car, two nurses had come with a wheelchair.

“I think she’s having a miscarriage,” Landon said when he lowered me into the chair.

---