Baby Mistake (Alphalicious Billionaires 3)

“We just wanted to check on you, honey. We were concerned.”

“You could have called.”

“Well…” her mom crossed her arms. “We’re here now.”

Teela realized it looked like she was guarding the door, like there was something inside she didn’t want her parents to see. Since Ross wasn’t sprawled out naked on the couch, there wasn’t anything she was hiding.

“Er- well, do you want a cup of coffee?”

“That would be nice.” Teela’s mom pushed inside and Teela stepped back to avoid getting run over.

Her parents weren’t… bad. They were just- a little opinionated about things. It made them hard to stomach at times. They had some pretty strong morals that they’d say they tried their hardest to instill in her. What that meant was they’d basically crammed it down her throat, but hey, that was just semantics.

Teela watched her parents shed their shoes. They knew the way into the living room and while they went and parked it on the couch, she retreated into the kitchen with her phone and sent out an SOS text to Amy.

HELP! MY PARENTS ARE HERE. I CAN’T DEAL WITH TELLING THEM ABOUT THIS ALONE.

Her phone dinged a second later.

JUST DON’T TELL THEM THEN. YOU HAVE LOTS OF TIME.

Teela sighed before her fingers flew over the screen.

I REALLY DON’T WANT TO WAIT. IT’S BEEN GIVING ME THE WORST ANXIETY AND THEY’RE HERE NOW.

She could practically hear Amy cringing before she sent off a text saying she’d be there in twenty minutes.

Teela made two cups of coffee. Since her stomach was already burning, being that it was nearly seven and about the time she started feeling completely nauseous, she didn’t need the extra torture. She carried the coffees into the living room, black, because like life, her parents refused to take anything with a grain of salt- or cream and sugar, as it were.

“Here you go.” She set the mugs down on the coffee table and sat down on one of the two seats she had in front of the couch. The chairs weren’t comfortable. They were some of those square modern looking things that looked really good but were hard as a rock.

“Thanks.” Her mom picked up her mug and took a sip. She liked it scalding hot, while her dad preferred to wait until his was nearly cold before downing it.

“I- er- I meant to call. I’m sorry. I really have been busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes, mom, busy.”

“Work keeps you so busy you can’t even phone your own parents?” Her dad’s voice had a note of hurt and Teela winced. They were both good at laying on the guilt when it counted. Not that she didn’t deserve it because she knew she kind of did. She really should have called.

“Jen comes home every weekend, you know, even if it’s just for a quick visit to let us know that she’s still alive.”

“Jen doesn’t live forty minutes outside the city. Her house is like three blocks away. She probably walks over.”

“Still. She makes the effort. We were worried.”

“You know, a phone is a two-way communicator,” Teela shot back. She didn’t mean to get defensive, but the Jen comments never failed to raise her hackles. Why was her sister born so perfect and she was born so woefully lacking. It was one of the reasons she had to get away from home in the first place. That and the stifling amount of rules.

Because Amy was Amy and had impeccable timing, the front door opened, saving things from getting tense. No, things were tense, but at least they didn’t get any tenser.

“Teela?”

“We’re in here,” Teela called.

Amy appeared in the room, her cheeks flushed. She’d thrown a lightweight jacket on over her jeans and blouse and it was buttoned up crooked. Obviously, she left in a hurry.

Amy took one look at Teel and hurried over to the large living room window. “It’s hot in here. Do you find it hot in here?” She rammed the window open without waiting for an answer. She buzzed around the room and disappeared into the kitchen, opening windows. A fresh breath of air swept through the room and if it did nothing to make things better, at least it settled the sloshing around thing her stomach was doing.

Nerves and nausea usually made a recipe for disaster. Teela had learned that over the past few months. Amy had the right idea.

She stalked back into the living room, a fake smile pasted on her face, and sunk down into the chair beside Teela.

“Mom and dad just came for a visit,” Teela explained, like she hadn’t just frantically texted Amy to come and be her support system.

“We came because our own daughter can’t be bothered to visit us,” her mom started in. “Even though we only live forty minutes away. It’s been over a month. We doubted she was even still alive.”