Page 65 of Masked Seduction

I smile weakly. “You’re a good friend.”

She shrugs. “It’s my job. Besides, you’re the one who got knocked up by a hot mobster. I can live vicariously through you for the drama.”

I huff a laugh, finally exhaling. “So what now?”

Claire tosses back her hair like a woman with a mission. “Now, we get you a test. Let’s go.”

“Wait,rightnow?” I squeak.

“Yes. Before your hot mob boyfriend wines and dines you. Let’s rip the Band-Aid off.”

I slide off the stool, nerves buzzing. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d be peeing in fear. Come on.”

We walk out of the bar, no drinks, no food. Just two women with a pharmacy in their future.

The fluorescent lighting in the drugstore makes everything feel just a little more dramatic. Or maybe it’s just me, staring at a shelf of pregnancy tests like I’m trying to crack a code. Why are there so many options? I just need a simple yes or no answer.

Claire, bless her, senses the spiral. She steps in like a shopping ninja and grabs two boxes off the shelf without even blinking. “Done. Let’s go. You can have your existential crisis in peace.”

Ten minutes later, we’re back at her apartment—all Claire—boho meets hipster chic. Mismatched throw pillows, string lights over the windows. She sets the record player to spin some mellow indie track before getting me a glass of water.

She thrusts it into my hand like I’m a prizefighter about to enter the ring.“Knock ’em dead.”

I laugh, mostly to keep from falling apart, and head off to the bathroom, test in hand.

The mirror catches my reflection—pale-faced, wide eyes, mouth set in a line that’s trying too hard not to tremble. I follow the instructions, do my business, and then I wait the longest two minutes of my life. My heart pounds in my throat the entire time. When I finally look...

Two lines.

Positive.

I sit on the side of the tub for a second, staring at the little window like maybe if I squint hard enough it’ll change its mind.

Nope. Still pregnant.

I walk out, feeling like a puppeteer is moving my limbs for me. Claire’s perched on the arm of her velvet green couch, half-eaten chocolate bar in hand.

Her face falls instantly when she looks up. “Holy shit.”

I nod slowly.

“What are you gonna do?”

I collapse onto the couch beside her, the test still clutched in my hand. “I have to tell him.”

Claire doesn’t say a word. She just waits with a quiet stillness. Finally, she says, “You need to think about what you want to do. Like,reallythink about it.”

I frown, a little thrown. The statement hangs in the air. I haven’t even thought about the alternative. Not really. The idea of not keeping it doesn’t feel like an option at all. This tiny, sesame-seed-sized life is already tethered to me, to my heart.

“I want to keep it,” I say softly, voice cracking just a little. “I mean, this was never part of the plan. I was supposed to wait until I was more established, but that’s out the window now. I’ll figure it out.”

Claire smiles. “Okay. Then that’s what you do. But maybe you should sit on telling him for a few days, see a doctor first.”

I shake my head. “Claire, my period’s never been late. Not once. This test is positive. I’m pregnant. And maybe it sounds weird, but I can actually feel that I’m pregnant.”

She studies me. “You don’t seem upset.”