She drops onto the bed and sighs. “I slept with Grant.”
“Her ex-boyfriend?”
Sierra glares. “I don’t need your judgement.”
“I’m not judging, S.” I raise my hands, silently waving the white flag. “But she’s your best friend. Why would you do that?” I make sure my tone comes across as concerned, which I am. Doesn’t she see that she’s pushing someone else away? Sierra isn’t the kind of person to just go around sleeping with random guys, and I doubt she likes Grant. She did it to push Imani away. This is what she does—keep the people who have a possibility of getting close to her at arm’s length.
“I was drunk,” she says, averting her eyes.
“Sierra.” I sit next to her luggage. “You know I love you, right?”
“Can we not do this right now? I just want to go home.”
Speaking of which… “How are you getting home?”
“Brenton agreed to leave early,” she says.
“Oh.” I guess that means I’m leaving early too. “Okay. When are we leaving?”
“As soon as you’re ready.” She grabs the handle of her suitcase and lifts it off the bed and drops it onto the ground. “We’ll meet you at the car.”
After packing my stuff, I roll my suitcase out the door. I take the elevator down to the main floor and head out to the front. I’m just through the doors when I hear my name being called. I look around, trying to find the voice, when I see Keegan running toward me.
“You’re leaving?” he asks, eyeing the luggage in my hand.
“Umm… yeah?” I’m shocked to see him. We already said goodbye. He already left. Why is he here?
“I want your number,” he blurts out, and my body stiffens.
“No,” I say back, not even thinking about it for a second. Why would he do this? We ended things on a good note.
“Please.” He steps closer to me, and I back up a step. He can’t do this. That’s not how this was supposed to end. “I left and got halfway home and made Mitch turn back around. I know you said you’re moving, but I can’t walk away without knowing I can talk to you again. I can’t let this be the end.”
Not wanting our time together to end on a bad note, I say the first thing I can think of. “Fine, then give me yours, and I’ll text you my number.”
Keegan laughs. “Yeah, right, Jailbird. I’m not falling for that.” He takes another step toward me, but this time I don’t back up. His hands land on my hips, and he bends his head down, kissing me softly on the lips. “You won’t text me. You’ll chicken out. I know you.” He grins. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you, and if you really don’t want to talk to me, you can block me.”
“I’m moving to South Carolina. It’s pointless.”
“We can be pen pals.”
“Nobody writes letters anymore.” I roll my eyes.
“Texting pals.” He smiles that beautiful, sexy grin. The one that shows both of his dimples.
Seeing Brenton’s car pulling around, I give in, not wanting my sister to know about Keegan. “Fine.” I grab Keegan’s phone and, pulling up his notepad, since it’s the first thing I spot, I type in my number. I hand it back to him, then standing on my tiptoes, give his cheek a chaste kiss.
“I gotta go. It was fun,” I say before I walk away, refusing to look back at the handsome man I know, if given the chance, I could easily fall in love with.
Blakely
Two months later
“It’s positive,” Dr. Peterson says with a small smile.
“Positive… meaning you’re positive I’m not pregnant?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “The test was positive. You’re pregnant.”
“Maybe there’s something else that can cause a false positive. Like… an STD? Maybe I have Chlamydia or Herpes…”
Sierra snorts from her chair. When she caught me throwing up for the hundredth time, she insisted I go to the doctor.
“B, please. What if something is seriously wrong with you?”
“I probably have a bug,” I argue, not even believing my own words.
“What if you’re pregnant, or worse, what if you have cancer or something?” Tears pool in her lids, and my heart expands. This is the first time since before our parents died that I’ve seen her show any type of emotion.
Sierra steps toward me and takes my hands in hers. “I-I can’t lose you, B. Please, for me, go.”
There was no way I could say no to her after that. So, she made me an appointment—at our gynecologist office, because even though I told her there was no way I could be pregnant, she didn’t believe me—and here we are…
“You’re wishing for an STD?” Sierra laughs.
“Well, it would be better than being pregnant!” I shout, my voice cracking at the end. “An STD is curable! Pregnancy is… not.” Tears prick my eyes, and my sister cuts across the room and pulls me into her arms.