Page 38 of Breathtaking

I crumple the paper in my hands, never taking my eyes from her.

“You might not want to do that,” she warns.

“Why are you here, princess?” I ask as I open my palm and flatten the paper.

I stare at it, confused.

What the hell?

“I’m here to tell you I’m pregnant.” Her green eyes burn with anger. “I’m here to tell you, you ruined my life. My career. My marriage. I’ve only ever been good for one thing in this life, and I’m supposed to walk down the aisle in less than a year to fulfill that stupid fucking destiny. And one night with you ruined that.” Tears fill her eyes. “You’ve ruined me,” she whispers, which is so much worse than her screams. “And you’re going to be a father. Congratulations.”

Well, hell. I’ve heard people say they could be knocked over by a feather, but I’ve never experienced it... until now.

I stare at Lennon, not sure I heard her right.

I couldn’t have... could I?

I open my mouth to say something, but for the first time in my life, I’m speechless.

The weight of the paper in my hand suddenly becomes unbearable.

I smooth it out and realize the long strip is a series of sonogram pictures.

Holy shit.

I stare at the pictures, expecting them to change.

To not be a baby.

And when I feel like I can finally move again, I look up at Lennon, who’s crying.

“A baby?” I whisper as a tear tracks down her cheek.

She nods. “Yes, you jerk. Your big, fat, stupid super sperm managed to get past the condoms.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t. But. . .Fuck.

“Am I sure what?” she snaps back slowly, hatred fortifying each word. “Sure that it’s yours?”

“No. I didn’t?—”

“You dick. Yes, I’m sure it’s yours. I was a virgin before you, and I haven’t been with anyone since. Which ought to make this fun to tell my fiancé.”

That word is all it takes for me to see fucking red.

She’s still engaged.

To another man.

My vision swims as the hits keep coming, but I cling to what I just sussed out of that statement. “He doesn’t know?”

She throws her hands up in the air, exasperated. “Are you even listening to me? No. Monty doesn’t know. I haven’t told him. I thought you should know first.”

“Who knows?” I growl as my mind flies in a million directions.

“You, me, and Atticus.” She rolls her pretty eyes. “I mean, Maria probably knows, but she’s discreet by nature and kind enough not to ask. So I’m not 100 percent sure.”

I look past her for the first time and see Maria in the distance at the bottom of the stairs. At least she brought her this time.

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