Page 140 of My Best Bet

“Yeah, late,” I said distractedly. “Probably the stress of the wedding.”

“Yeah… or…?” She laughed.

I didn’t.

And now we were here, taking a pregnancy test right before the reception.

“Can we think about something else?” I asked. My neck was starting to itch. “I’m getting nervous. Please distract me.”

“I’m afraid I’m not gonna get another partner in time,” Piper blurted out.

“Shit, I’m sorry, P.”

Her shoulders sagged. “It’s okay. It’s my own fault.”

“No, it’s not. Don’t think that way. It could still happen.”

She shrugged. “I’m the one who got myself labeled as a bad sport.”

Unfortunately, after the last Grand Prix, a camera caught Piper going off about the judges and the unfairness of the competition. She was pissed and she had the right to be. Her and Patrick should’ve won gold. They were ripped off.

But here's the thing that’s more unfair– in other sports, when players got mad at refs or other officials, half the people agreed with them, and then the incident was forgotten about after the next game. But because it was figure skating, and all of us were trained to contain our emotions and portray a perfect facade, what she did wasn’t okay.

“That’s not fair and we both know it.” The people who labeled her that way had no clue what it took to make it in figure skating. You had to be a competitor to stay in a sport like ours. You had to be even more competitive to make it as far as Piper.

“Yeah.” She frowned and took another sip of her champagne. “You don’t think it’s true, do you? What they’re saying about me?” She twisted her lips.

“No Piper, not at all,” I swore. “You’ll find another partner and you’ll win your Olympic gold, and that will be what you’re remembered for, not one stupid moment, which you were in the right about anyway,” I pointed out.

“Yeah.” She rolled her lips together. “Okay, it’s time,” she said, wagging her eyebrows.

We both leaned over the stick.

Two little lines appeared. My body froze.

“I’m gonna be an auntie times two.” Piper fanned her face to stop from crying more, then grabbed me up into a tight hug. “You have to go tell Colt. He’ll be so happy.”

“You think?” I hiccuped, still in shock.

“I don’tthink, Iknow,” she said firmly. “Go tell him. I’m so happy for you,” she whispered while hugging me tighter.

I laughed for a second, then my laughing turned into crying. Ababy. Me and Colt. We made a baby. My hand flitted to my abdomen and then even more tears pooled in my eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m a mess.” I sniffled. “You’re okay? You need to talk more? I’m sorry I changed the subject.”

“No, it’s your day. I’m sorry I even brought up my own shit.” She waved it away. “We can talk about all that any other day. Today is a happy day, okay?”

“You’re sure?” I asked doubtfully.

“One hundred percent. I will be mad at you if you worry about me right now, got it?” she said sternly. Then her face broke and she pulled me into another bone-crushing hug. “I’m so happy for you.” She pulled back. “But I call Godmother, okay? I’m gonna fix my lipstick real quick.”

Still half-laughing and half-crying, I pushed out of the bathroom and bumped into another large hockey guy in a tux.

Kappy turned around and quickly steadied my shoulders. He took one look at my face and his own creased in worry. “What’s wrong? Don’t cry, dance instead! Did you know that dancing can be more helpful than SSRI’s?”

I felt like I'd heard that before, but I couldn’t remember where. I shook my head. “No, I’m crying because I’m happy.” I laughed, wiping my eyes and smiling.

“Oh.” His face relaxed and he rocked back on his heels. His bowtie was already missing and the top of his shirt was undone. I was sure he’d lose his tux jacket pretty soon too. “That’s good then. You deserve to be happy, Mer Bear.” He pulled me in for a hug, then looked down at me with a creased forehead. “Where’s Piper the Viper? Thought she went in there with you?” His eyes went to the bathroom door.

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