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A month later, sex with Cam is still dynamite and nobody knows we’re doing it in secret.

Every time he leaves, he kisses me like he’s taking what he needs until we can be together again, and every time he leaves, I think about telling him that we should just be honest with Paul about what’s been going on between the two of us.

He was clear from the start…but I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I want to be with him. I want him to take me out to dinner. I want to go on dates. I want to post our picture together to Instagram. I don’t want to hide it because I’m starting to fall for him.

I’m not quite sure how we’ve managed to keep it from everybody—especially from Sara, and especially given the fact that Cam has come to our apartment on more than one occasion for sex.

Actually, I’ve never seen Cam’s place.

I’d think it’s a red flag if we were doing anything more than dirty deeds, but he made it clear what I could expect from him and I made it clear that I understood.

I’ve buried myself in work, and I’ve avoided going to the Sunday football games at the bar as one measure of banishing my history with Tristan. In fact, Sundays are the perfect time for Cam to swing by for sex, so Sunday afternoons have become the ideal time of the week when we have sex then we lie together for a half hour or so before he has to go. I’ve never really been a nap kind of person, but the things he does to me are physically exhausting, and I need one after a session with the good doctor.

And that’s where I am right now—in that blissful thirty minute stretch. He just ran to the bathroom to take care of the condom, and I decide to be silly by sending him a text while he’s in the bathroom.

Me: Thanks for the sex. Ready for the nap.

His phone buzzes on my nightstand on what’s become his side of the bed for our naps, and out of sheer curiosity, I lean over to look at my message.

New message from Ridge Fallon.

Ridge Fallon? As in…Fallon Ridge backwards?

Why doesn’t he have me in his phone as Tessa ? Or even Nurse , as he still likes to call me at the office or sometimes when he’s banging into me?

I gather up the nerve to ask. “Why am I in your phone as Ridge Fallon?” I ask when he returns from the bathroom. His eyes darken a little as they edge over to his phone where it rests on my nightstand.

“Why are you looking at my phone?” he asks, his voice steady.

“I just sent you a message and I was curious whether you had me in there as Tessa or Nurse ,” I admit.

“You know I’m just trying to keep it from Paul,” he says. “Now let’s nap.” He slides onto the bed beside me and pulls me against his chest.

I drop it because I’m so comfortable and exhausted after what he just did to me.

But still…I get the sense he’s lying to me.

If he was trying to keep what’s happening between us from Paul, why would he program me in as Ridge Fallon when Paul attended my father’s funeral in Fallon Ridge with Cam?

It doesn’t hold up, but as I drift to sleep in his arms, I let it go.

When his thirty-minute timer goes off, we both get up. I’m still exhausted, but I have to pee bad enough that I get up and run there first before I walk him out. My stomach rolls with nausea as we walk toward the door, and a little frisson of fear races up my spine as the symptoms start to add up.

I’ve been exhausted lately—exhausted in a way I’ve never experienced before. Bone tired when I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary apart from sex with Cam.

I’ve been dealing with bouts of nausea at random.

I’ve been urinating more frequently.

I know the early symptoms of pregnancy, and those are definitely three of them.

Shit.

I don’t say anything to Cam about my suspicions as we walk toward the door together. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says quietly, and his mouth collides with mine for one more passionate kiss before he leaves.

Don’t go. Stay with me.

I want more than sex with you.

I keep the thoughts planted firmly in my head where they belong even though I want to shout them.

Stay with me while I take a pregnancy test .

Now there’s one he’s probably not expecting.

I sigh as I give him one last hug, and then he leaves.

As soon as he’s gone, I run to the bathroom. I check the cabinet under the sink, and I find a box of tests under there. They’re Sara’s—she and Shane had a scare a while back, and she stuck the extras under there as insurance.

I suppose I’m included in her coverage.

I read the directions as my chest races with nerves. I’m really doing this.

Alone.

It’s not my first scare.

It won’t even be my first positive, if that’s what it is.

Nor will it be my first pregnancy.

My eyes fill with tears as I rip the package open, thoughts swirling around my brain of the last time I did this. I was alone then, too. I was terrified.

I was stupid.

I tossed the test in the garbage can where my dad obviously found it what seemed like seconds after I saw the two pink lines. Wrapping it in toilet paper wasn’t enough when the box was still sitting on the bathroom counter.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. If I’d have just had time to put the box away, maybe my life would’ve been completely different. Maybe I’d have a six-year-old boy. Maybe I’d be with Tristan.

But I freaked out. I ran to my bedroom to cry, leaving the evidence in plain view.

I’m not sure what was more terrifying…actually finding out I was pregnant or my father’s reaction to the pregnancy test box sitting on the counter in my bathroom.

I’m terrified now, too, but for different reasons. I’m older. I can handle this.

I can make my own decisions this time around.

If it’s positive, everything will be okay. I tell myself that as I do my thing and take the test.

I think about setting a timer when I’m done. Maybe I should leave the stick face down and check it when it’s cooked, so to speak.

But that’s not me.

Instead, I stare at the little rectangle that will either show one pink line if I’m not pregnant or two pink lines if I am.

A part of me wants it to be positive. Sure, I didn’t expect this with Cam—my fuck buddy—of all people, but we’ll face it together. I may not know as much about him as I’d like, but I do know that he cares about children. He takes care of them for a living. He’d make a great father.

On the other hand, whether he’d make a great husband…that I’m not so sure about. We’ll cross that bridge if we need to.

It doesn’t take the full five minutes the directions said it would.

Two bright lines stand there loud and proud after a few seconds pass.

I blow out a breath as reality hits me.

I’m pregnant, and the guy I’m just supposed to be having casual sex with is the baby’s daddy.