Page 109 of Anyone But You

“I’ll show you just how crotchety I can be when I get home,” I said, squeezing her thigh.

Dr. Matthew’s gaze slid down to my hand and back up again.

“I guess that answers my next question, but I have to ask: Do you have any issues with intimacy?”

“None whatsoever—minimum twice a day, Monday through Thursday, and three times a day Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.”

“That’s very healthy,” Dr. Matthews commented. “Victoria? Are you all right?”

“What?” she asked as if she were breaking out of a daze.

“Where did you go?”

“I-I have to go,” Victoria said before gathering her purse and running out of the office, leaving me and Dr. Matthews dumbfounded.

What the hell is going on?

Victoria

I tore into the bodega like a mad woman, scaring the cashier, who was probably wondering if I was about to stick him up.

“Do you have any pregnancy tests?” I asked breathlessly. His shoulders seemed to slump in relief.

“Yes, ma’am. Do you need just one?” he asked, reaching behind him to the wall I hadn’t noticed of contraceptives, lube, stimulants, and pregnancy tests.

“Give me three—just to be sure.”

I paid for the tests and cringed when he congratulated me as I raced out of the store. I’d forgotten to get my Depo shot when we returned and had been letting Knox shoot the club up left and right.

I’d barely whipped the illegally parked SUV away from the curb when I received a call from Alyssa.

“Hello?”

“Um…is everything okay, Victoria? Knox sent me a text message saying to check on you because you bolted from therapy and took off with the vehicle.”

“Everything is so fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” she replied.

“It’s all starting to make sense!”

“What’s making sense because it’s not you?”

“Hold on, this asshole is driving like I don’t have somewhere to be,” I said before laying on the horn. He rolled his window down and stuck out his middle finger.

I planned on ignoring him when he switched lanes and rolled down the passenger window.

“Lord have mercy, Jesus,” I mumbled when we approached a stoplight.

“What’s going on?” Alyssa asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I lied, reaching into my purse for my gun. I hadn’t planned on using it, but the guy was doing the most over a little toot-toot, beep-beep. I laid the weapon across my lap and faced forward as the man berated me.

“Who is yelling like that?” Alyssa questioned, sounding more concerned than when I first answered.

“Some idiot driver.”

“Are you safe?”