“I don’t want you to get sick, Lavender. Go home. If I’m not feeling better by tomorrow, I’ll go to a walk-in clinic.” She lifts my hair up off my neck and places a cool washcloth there as she gathers the annoying tresses in a bun.
“Tell me your symptoms.” Ever the mother, my best friend. I swear if she brings this back home and gets her family sick, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Tired, nauseous. Clearly, the toilet is my friend, and did I mention I’m exhausted? I really think it’s a bug.” I lift my head from the toilet and look at Lavender. Her head is cocked to the side as she looks over me like I’ve got the plague instead of a twenty-four-hour thing.
“Anything else? Are your boobs sore? Are there certain smells bothering you?” Why the hell would she be asking these questions?
“The sandwich shop. I walked in and thought I was going to be sick, so I left, went back to the bar, and because it was dead, Max sent me home. I don’t think my boobs are sore. Why do you ask?” I press on my chest, feeling the tenderness. “Ouch, maybe I’m starting my period.” I stand up, steadying myself, and walk towards the kitchen to grab my phone and check the app that tracks my menstrual cycle.
“Girl, sit your ass down. I’m running to the pharmacy,” Lavender says as she follows me to the kitchen.
“Why? What medicine even helps with a stomach virus?” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t be dense. I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re pregnant. You know, bun in the oven?” She points down at her small bump.
“No fucking way.” I pull up the app, seeing that my last period was thirty-seven days ago.
“Yeah, I’ll be back. I’ll get you stocked up on all the essentials. I’ve been lucky in the morning sickness department, but my mom wasn’t that lucky. So, I know what you’ll need after she prepared me, then cursed me. You just sit tight, breathe through it.”
“Lavender, I can’t be pregnant. What is Jackson going to think? Oh God, I can’t even tell him if I am. He’s a whole freaking state away and on a run. He’s going to think I did this on purpose.” I pull a chair out at my kitchen table and sit. My head hits the table, and as easy as breathing through it sounds, it’s anything but.
“Okay, new plan. I’ll Instacart the stuff, we’ll sit tight, and I promise if Jackson is an idiot, which I don’t think he is or he wouldn’t have texted me when you told him you were sick, then Ryder will have to deal with it because we’ll do this together.” I’m the luckiest girl to have a friend like Lavender, especially when I start bawling like a baby over her sweet words and all she does is hug me until I’m finally able to calm my crazy emotions down. I think about how much will change in my life. Wild and carefree Sailor will have to settle down, not that I’m going to lose myself, but the working all the time and staying up half the night will definitely be one of those changes. I can’t believe I’m thinking about this. I haven’t even taken the damn test yet.
“Thanks for having my back.”
“As if you have to even say that. I’m here, always. Now, let’s get this shit ordered, and then we can formulate a plan.” I have to laugh because Lavender is the organized ringleader; I’m just along for the ride.
“Alright, let’s figure this out, but promise me no matter the results, you don’t tell anyone, not until I talk to Jackson. He deserves to know, but not while he’s out on a run. The last thing he needs is to be worried while he’s working.” It would kill me if something happened to him, regardless of if I’m pregnant or not.
“Well, duh, like I’d ever. This is for you two to figure out, unless he’s a total jackass about it. Then it’s on like Donkey Kong.” I laugh so hard I snort at my friend’s ridiculousness, knowing full well it’s exactly what she’d do too.
CHAPTER 10
SAILOR
“God, I hate working until two o’clock in the morning,” I grumble as I slide out of my car. It’s been two weeks since Lavender sat with me while I peed on a stick and figured out that I am in fact pregnant. It’s also been fourteen very long days since Jackson has been in town, and there was no way I was telling him, ‘Hey guess what? You’re going to be my baby daddy.’ No way in hell am I doing that while he’s a state away working his ass off for the club. Honestly, though, this last week, things have been better. The morning sickness has been easier and only sticking around for the first hour after I wake up. That could be because I’ve figured out saltines and lemon lime soda are my best friends. If I have those before my feet hit the carpet, it’s much better. The nausea is still there, but at least the toilet doesn’t know me by name anymore. I was even able to see the doctor, which, holy shit, talk about costing an arm and a leg. This not having health insurance is going to kick me in the ass being self-pay.