Page 142 of Just Wait

My heart thunders.

It’s such a simple thing, but after the incidents with Theo forgetting about me, it feels weirdly important.

I’m not hungry.

Like at all.

I’ve skipped a lot of meals recently, and I’ve noticed how loose my clothes are getting.

“If they have a turkey club or even a ham and cheese and chips, I would love that,” I tell him.

“You got it. I hate to lay this on you first thing, but I wanted to give you a heads-up,” he says. “Our test results came in. Yours should be in your email. Mal and Kincaid are at the gym. They’ll probably be back within an hour.” He leans down and kisses my forehead before climbing off the mattress and making his way to the door. “I’ll be in the living room. Let me know if you need anything.”

Well, there went my appetite.

I roll over, scooping up my phone.

My fingers don’t seem to be working right, and I hit a bunch of buttons in my haste to get my email open. When I finally get to where I need to be, the top three are my test results, a copy of the contract from the record label, and an email from Theo.

Damn.

He must be really desperate if he’s emailing me.

Ignoring it, I click on my test results and follow the link. I have to enter some verification details, and the information finally loads.

I scan through it, looking for anything that stands out. Nothing does. Every column says negative, and my eyes get achy.

Wow.

I didn’t expect to get emotional, but I’m so relieved. Theo wouldn’t have been ready for the level of hell I would have unleashed on him if I’d caught an STI because he cheated.

Thankfully, that’s a nonissue.

This was a great start to the day.

Wren pops up at the door to the bedroom as I’m getting myself into the dress Riser picked out.

I have a cardigan laid out to go with it, but even if it’s dangerous, it’s too hot to wear leggings. I’m just going to need to stay vigilant about finding a bathroom every couple hours because my period is raging with a vengeance.

Wren stumbles against the doorframe and bends down, plucking off her heels.

I frown.

She’s in the same outfit she was in when she left with Ten and Parish.

“Are you guys just getting back?”

“Yeah,” she groans, walking around to shove her heels in the cabinet she’s been storing her stuff in. “I’m dead on my feet. Can I sleep in here? I tried to climb into my bunk, but it felt like a coffin.”

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “Go for it.”

She looks a little green around the gills, but hopefully she feels better by tonight when the bus takes off.

Otherwise, the drive to wherever we’re going will be awful.

“Thanks,” she grunts, pulling her dress off over her head.

I almost laugh.