Page 7 of Dare To Marry You
After a few minutes, we break apart and Serena takes my hands in hers. “I’m guessing from your current state this isn’t a planned thing, and you’re here because buying a test at the store in our small town is the last thing you want to do.”
I nod emphatically. “No one can know. Not yet. Hunter isn’t even home…” I trail off. Because honestly? I don’t know how Hunter is going to react to this news — if there is actually anything to tell him. But deep in my heart, I know there is. Now that the shock is wearing off, my medical training kicks in and I know I’m about to be a statistic. A happy one, but still.
As a group, we traipse down the hall to Serena and Leo’s en suite bathroom. She hands me a box of tests and gives me a warm smile. “Whatever the result, you’re going to be okay.”
Freaking tears start to pool in my eyes again. “Thank you,” I whisper to both of them, then I close the door, and prepare to meet my future.
Less than five minutes later, we’re all staring at the very clear pink lines.
“Guess this means no more wine for you,” Lily comments wryly, and it’s just the tension reliever we need. All three of us start to giggle, then I’m folded into another strong hug from my bestie.
“How are we going to hide that?” I groan. “If I’m not drinking at my own bachelorette, it’s going to be really freaking obvious.”
Serena places her hands on her hips and lets out a thoughtful hum. “Yeah, that isn’t going to be easy. But we’ve got some sparkling apple juice. I’ll bring that and say it’s for mejust in caseand then we can be sneaky about filling your glass with that instead of the real deal.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay!” Clapping my hands together, I’m sure I look like a maniac. I kind of feel like one. “We can do this. Go team.” My hands drop to my stomach. “Guys. I’m pregnant,” I whisper, the roller coaster of nonstop emotions taking another plunge.
Chapter four
Hunter
One more week till I’m home.
Two more weeks till I’m married to Kat.
As I pound out the miles on the hotel gym treadmill, I just keep repeating those two facts over and over to myself. It’s a technique that in the past has helped me ground in reality instead of letting my catastrophizing tendencies take over.
I pick a rock-solid fact or two, and just repeat them constantly until they drown out everything else.
You’d think those two statements would bring calm, even excitement, but for some fucking reason right now, the ever-present edge of anxiety is growing stronger, not weaker. Even as I run, pushing my body to its limits, my mind is wandering off course. Into dark holes ofwhat if something changes Kat’s mind, what if our wedding day is terrible, what if I embarrass her.
What if. What if. What if.
Gasping for air, I punch the pause button on the console and hop to the side, my hands trembling as they hold onto the treadmill rails. Whether it’s exhaustion or anxiety making me shaky, I can’t really tell. Probably a combination of both. My head falls forward, sweaty hair covering my eyes. For fuck’s sake, I hate this. I hate being this way. I hate my thoughts and the way they feel so out of control.
Kat would know how to calm me down. She always does. But using her as a crutch, as my source of strength, feels unfair. She doesn’t need to carry my burdens all the damn time. I need to man up and work through this. Years of therapy have given me skills.
They just aren’t working right now.
Giving up on my workout, I walk on slightly unsteady legs to the station that has towels and cleaners for the machines. After giving it a quick wipe down, I go back to my room and stand under a hot shower for several minutes. But breathing strategies do shit all, and now I want to talk to Kat even more.
But she’s hopefully having the time of her life with her friends and family at her bachelorette, and I’ve got a date with a burrito from the Mexican place down the street and some Netflix tonight.
At least, I thought I did. That all changes when a heavy knock on the hotel room door drags me off the bed wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else.
“Dude, put on a fucking shirt! My eyes are burning!”
Sawyer Donnelly pushes past me the second I open the door, followed by Kat’s three other brothers.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, baffled, as they all fold their arms across their chests and grin at me like idiots.
“Bachelor night. Did you really think we’d let you skip this? Beck shortchanged us, thanks to his sneaky wedding, so we’re making up for it with you,” Sawyer says, rubbing his hands together. “Chop-chop, bro, get dressed in something snazzy and let’s go.”
“Don’t saysnazzy, that word is fucking weird,” Jude grumbles, looking every bit the former NHL captain. Of all the brothers, he’s the one I know the least, but once you get past the broody exterior, he’s a cool guy.
“Whatever, Beetle. We need our man Hunter lookin’ sharp. Is that better?”
My gaze bounces between the four of them as I try to wrap my head around what’s happening.
