Page 88 of Dr. Attending

“I know right? And only forty bucks too,” Morgan says as she comes up beside me. “Walker wouldn’t let me buy the high-end set because he keeps trying to teach me how to be ‘fiscally responsible.’ But it should do the trick.”

I glance at her in the mirror and laugh. “He’s probably right.”

“No,I’mthe one who’s right,” she counters with a triumphant wink, adjusting the tie on her Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader costume. “I told you that you were going to love it, didn’t I?”

“You did,” I admit.

“You know who’s going to love it more?”

Morgan’s brows wag with amusement, kind of like a teenager teasing her friend about their first crush.

I feel my cheeks heat because in some ways, my relationship—or whatever this thing is with Weston—does bring me back to high school. It’s new and exciting, but it’s also terrifying and real.

“You know he isn’t coming tonight, right?” I ask as casually as I can as I sink to the floor to put on the final piece of my outfit.

“So?” Morgan shrugs. “Just Uber over there once you’re nice and drunk. Climb up on his cock, and I promise you . . . he’ll be calling you Madame Mommy in no time.”

I wince as I reach for the thigh-high black stilettos that she bought me.

“Morg,” I groan, focusing on the zipper.

She drops down in front of me to pull on her white boots. “What?”

When I don’t answer, she scoffs. “God, you Winters kids and your pent-up emotions. Just fucking say what you want to say. It really isn’t that hard.”

I glance up at her and bite the inside of my lip, hesitating even though I’ve been meaning to talk to her about this all day.

Like I suspected, Morgan’s pregnancy test came back positive. At first, she was completely stunned. So stunned, in fact, that she stared at the result for a solid minute without saying a word. But then her shock transformed into excitement and she began rapidly firing questions at me.

“Do I need to take a multivitamin?”

“Can I still use my favorite dry shampoo?”

“What flavor do you think my baby is going to be?”

By the time she finished grilling me, it honestly felt like I had taken my board exam all over again. I didn’t leave her house until nine and barely had two minutes with Weston before I passed out.

But even though our conversation exhausted me, I spent the entire morning thinking about it—thinking about how different she’s so different from the person I first met who swore she would never fall for a doctor, and thinking about how she’s probably the only person who can relate to what I’ve been struggling with.

“How did you know?”

Morgan tugs on her cowboy boot with a grin. “Know that I’m an icon? I was born this way, baby.”

When I don’t respond, her teasing smile falters. “Know what?”

“That you were ready.”

She purses her lips as she reaches for her other boot. “For marriage or a baby?”

“Both, I guess.”

While our situation isn’t identical to Morgan’s, there are definitely similarities. I distinctly remember her saying multiple times that she was never going to get married because it wasn’t in her DNA—kind of how it feels every time I think about being a mom.

Spending time with Carter has definitely become more comfortable, I still have that innate hesitation every time I see him. Like I’m terrified of doing something wrong, or upsetting him somehow. And I don’t know if that’s ever going to get easier. If I can be what he needs.

Morgan abruptly gets to her feet and crosses the room. She returns with a snow globe and crouches back down in front of me with a determined glint in her eye.

“Have you ever seen one of these?”

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