Page 5 of The Little Black Rose

There, in the little window, are two very bright,veryprominent pink lines.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” I chant, leaving the stick where it is and rushing into the living room.

Grabbing my keys, phone, and purse, I dart out to the garage and tumble into my car. My mind is racing in circles, and I barely register my actions as I stab at the clicker to open the garage door and crank the car simultaneously. Jerking the transmission into reverse, I stomp on the accelerator, tires squealing as the car rockets down the drive.

“Shit,” I murmur, slamming on the brakes.

I take a few deep breaths, then slowly guide the vehicle out onto the street. Forcing myself to obey every traffic law, I drive to the closest drugstore and pull into the lot. Once I park, I grab my phone and shoot off a shaky text to my friends.

Me:911. Meet me at my house in twenty minutes.

Sophie:What’s going on? Are you okay?

Zoey:I’m at work. Let me just tell Zeke I need to leave.

Me:Wait! Don’t tell Zeke––

I quickly delete the text before sending it. Calming myself, I tap out a new response.

Me:I’m fine. I think. I just need you guys. See you in a few.

Tossing my phone into my purse, I haul ass into the drugstore and buy three more tests. One identical to the one I just took, one that shows a plus sign for positive, and one of those fancy digital ones that actually reads “pregnant” or “not pregnant.”

I manage to make it back home without having a nervous breakdown, but as soon as I get out of the car and see both Sophie and Zoey’s cars pulling up to the curb in front of my house, every ounce of my control evaporates.

I start heaving loud, wailing sobs as they run toward me, then cry even harder as they sandwich me between them and hold me in tight, loving arms. I give myself over to their embrace for a few moments, then wiggle free before sniffing obnoxiously.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” I huff out between deep breaths.

“Let’s get you inside,” Zoey says gently, wrapping an arm around my back to guide me toward the door. “Then you can tell us what’s wrong so we can fix it.”

There’s no fixing this, but I don’t say that out loud.

Zoey’s touch burns my skin, and I feel like a total asshole for accepting her comfort after lying to her for three months. Both she and Sophie have asked me what’s going on with me repeatedly, and I always answered with some vague excuse about how I was tired or stressed over work.

I mean, how do you tell your best friend you fucked her brother against a door? And even worse, he immediately regretted it and asked you not to tell his sister? And now…

Now, I might be pregnant with his baby.

The time for secrets and lies is over. I’m going to tell them everything and hope they’ll forgive me. But first, I need confirmation. I need to know if I took a faulty test, or if my life is forever changed by that single moment when I tightened my legs around Zeke and refused to let him pull out.

As we walk toward the living room, I shove the bag I’m carrying into Sophie’s arms and nod my head with permission for her to look inside. Her brow wrinkles with worry before she pulls the plastic apart to peer down at the three rectangular boxes inside. She gasps, her gaze widening before flying back up to meet mine.

“What? What is it?” Zoey asks, releasing me to step closer to Sophie and look into the bag.

She reacts pretty much the same way Sophie did, her mouth forming the words “Oh, shit,” though no sound actually emerges.

“I took one already,” I whisper, my eyes filling with tears once more. “It was positive.”

They both gasp again, and I shake my head as Zoey tries to move in for another hug. Grabbing the glass of water I left on the coffee table earlier, I chug it down. I’m going to need a full bladder for this.

“Do you want us to come in with you while you take these?” Sophie asks gently.

“No, I won’t be able to pee if you’re in there,” I say with a watery, miserable-sounding chuckle.

Zoey pulls me down on the couch beside her as Sophie heads into the kitchen with my glass, returning a moment later with a refill. I take it with a nod of thanks, and she takes the seat on the other side of me so I’m sandwiched between them.

I sip at the water as my brain spirals, trying to come up with the words to tell them I slept with Zeke and kept it a secret. It’s just as hard as I’d expected. Hell, the only other thing I’ve ever kept from them was the existence of my little black rose tattoo. I got it on a dare from a guy I met at a bar a decade ago, and I was too embarrassed to admit it to them at the time. Then the years passed, and it was just easier to pretend it doesn’t exist.

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