Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)

I awkwardly took the test and laid it on the counter before I started pacing.

“I won’t be pregnant, I can’t be, right? I take the pill religiously. I have never missed a day. Nope I’m not,” I ranted to Amy while pacing, certain that I was right.

“It’s official, you’re knocked up,” Amy stated, looking at the pregnancy tests that were scattered around me on the floor of our living room where I was currently sitting. Freaking the fuck out. I had made Amy run out and get five more tests, convinced the first one I took was wrong. It wasn’t, considering the second, third, fourth and fifth were all positive.

“Holy shit, this so isn’t happening,” I muttered, while going through all the possible reactions Cade could have to this information, then thinking I was going to be a mother. A mother. I hadn’t really thought too much about kids, yeah, I thought they were cute and all but I didn’t have that yearning in my loins like a lot of my other girlfriends. I thought one day in the future I could be open to the idea, and lately I had been more than open to the idea after how things were going with Cade and I. But I was thinking in the future. Not now, when Cade and I had barely been together four months, when I had just opened a new business. I was twenty freaking five. I still had at least four more years of child free party life ahead of me.

“Oh my god Ames,” I groaned looking up at her. “I’ve been drunk. Like, a lot. I don’t know how pregnant I am, holy crap what if I have, like, totally fucked up my child just because I can’t pass up a good cocktail? Fuck! I am a terrible mother and I haven’t even given birth yet,” I whined, sounding near hysterical.

Amy bent down and gave me a firm slap on the cheek. “Snap out of it,” she ordered.

I held my cheek in shock. “You just hit a pregnant woman,” I gasped, even though it didn’t actually hurt that much, it was the principle of the matter.

“No, I slapped some sense into my best friend to stop her freaking the fuck out. You are not a terrible mother, especially when you just found out you were pregnant twenty minutes ago and have not chugged down a tequila shot in that time,” she explained, kneeling beside me.

“No, I haven’t but I could seriously use one,” I groaned thinking about the fact I would have to say goodbye to tequila for months, nine of them. I stared at Amy seriously.

“What if I have actually hurt my baby?” I asked voice small, feeling fear for the little being growing inside of me. And feeling already attached to it.

Amy looked at me softly. “I’ll call the clinic now, get you in. But I seriously doubt a little bit of booze will harm Cade’s child, his super sperm bet birth control, it can probably handle anything,” she joked, pushing up and giving me her hand to pull me off the floor. “And my friend Trina didn’t know she was pregnant until like four months, and those four months just happened to be when we were on a bender in the South of France. Seriously, she partied hard. Kid’s fine, even a little too smart if you ask me, little fucker is better at math than me,” she told me, smirking.

I smiled weakly back at her, unable to muster much more with all the thoughts swirling in my head. What if Cade thought I did this on purpose? What if he doesn’t want our child? My heart plummeted and I placed my hands protectively over my still flat belly. No, I argued with myself, Cade would want it. On the side of the road not one month ago he declared he wanted me pregnant. Granted he was reeling from my kidnapping and probably meant a little further on than this.

I started pacing, scattering the pregnancy tests across the floor, all the while trying to prevent a mental breakdown. Okay, I was pregnant, it’s not like this didn’t happen all the time. I should be happy that this wasn’t the result of a night of too many tequila shots and too little inhibition. This baby was conceived out of love. I just hoped Cade was ready to be a father. Cos I didn’t know how ready I was to be a mother. I had passed out sunbathing a week ago and the burns were only just starting to fade. How could I keep a tiny human alive when I couldn’t even properly apply sunscreen?

I was still pacing when Amy walked back in, my gaze darted up to her.

“You get me in?” I demanded, maybe a little sharply. But I was worried about the health of my child.

“Got us an appointment in an hour.” She looked pleased with herself.

“Okay great thank you, thank you!” I didn’t stop pacing.

Amy leaned on the door jamb, looking more calm and collected than I could ever be.

“How can you be so calm?” I all but shrieked. “I am knocked up and it is so not planned. I haven’t even been with the father a year. I don’t even know if Barney’s carries a proper maternity line! I’m going to get fat, and my feet will swell. Holy fuck, I won’t be able to wear heels and if I do I’ll look like Kim Kardashian.” I panicked and glared at Amy who didn’t look at all concerned about the very real possibly I could be facing elephant feet. And flats.

She strode over and gripped my arms, eyes twinkling. “Chill, Gwennie. This is freaking awesome news.”

My eyes bugged out at her statement, and I opened my mouth to repeat everything I had just said, maybe a decibel louder, so she could get it.

“I grant you maybe not the best timing,” she said quickly before I could get started. “But you have a man that friggin’ adores you and will be over the fucking moon about you having his bun in your oven. Not to mention, I will make sure we get you the most kick ass maternity wardrobe. I’ll research options today,” she said thoughtfully, and seriously.