Page 90 of Not On Your Life

“Obviously.”

She takes the test and walks over to the toilet, and I leave the bathroom before I see a side of my friend I can’t unsee.

“Okay, I’m done,” she says not a minute later. I rush back in and find her hovering over the stick.

“Should I go get Ward?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m probably not even pregnant. But if I am, I want to surprise him in a big way. Ohh! I should rent a hot-air balloon! I saw the cutest thing online the other day.”

My eyes widen, and I grab her arm hard enough to rein her in. “Maybe we should wait to see what the test says first.”

“Okay.” She chews on a fingernail.

The blinking stops and a single word pops up on the screen.

Lyndi screams.

I scream.

“I’m pregnant.” She cries.

“Are you okay?” I rub her back.

“I don’t know,” she says. The elation seems to dry up and fear replaces it. “Babies change everything. What if I’m not ready for that?”

I grab her shoulders and turn her until I’m staring into her blue eyes. “But what if you are?”

My words feel like an answer to my own questions. What if I am ready for a relationship with Connor? What if I’m ready to let go of what I can’t control and accept that sometimes I’ll make mistakes?

Not all mistakes are actually mistakes.

Lyndi nods and sniffs. “I’ve already done this once. This time I have more family, and it will be even better.” Her eyes shimmer, but under the tears is hope. Security. Excitement. “I have everything I need. Now you.” She turns on me. “You need to get going. And then you need to go rescue your prince from the tower you locked him in.”

Psh.“That was a bit dramatic,” I mutter. She raises her brows, waiting. “Fine, also a tad accurate.”

“Go get him, girl.” She slaps my butt and practically pushes me out the bedroom door.

“Is abuse a pregnancy thing?” I mutter.

“Shh! Don’t say anything. I want to surprise Ward.”

I turn back before stepping farther into the hall. “Please don’t rent a hot-air balloon.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and glee practically drips off of her glowing features.

Too late. I’ve lost her to her wild, pregnancy fantasies. Time to leave before she ropes me into whatever crazy idea she’s got cooking up there.

I find Crew in the playroom and sneak in to give him a hug.

“Wow, you look like a princess.” Crew says.

“Ah, thank you, my little prince.” I kiss the top of his head.

“I’m not a prince.” He wipes the kiss off his hair with a pout. “I’m Spidey.”

“How could I forget?” I grin and pull away from him before he adds a boogie to my dress.

“The devil likes red,” he says. “He can be your prince.”