Page 95 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

I barely madeit to the sink in time.

My stomach lurched violently, and I gripped the edge of the counter, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I emptied what little was in my stomach.

The sharp sting of bile burned my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the wave to pass.

It didn’t.

Not right away.

This had been happening every morning for the past few days—this awful, gut-twisting sickness that left me drained and aching.

And it wasn’t just the nausea. It was everything.

The exhaustion that clung to me no matter how much I slept.

The dull ache behind my eyes from stress.

The uncertainty twisting through my chest, making it impossible to breathe.

Crap, I didn’t even know what I was going to do about this baby. I had so many questions. How could I eventhinkabout having this baby when I had no idea what I was going to do with my life.

If I went back home and carried on with my job, this was going to be a nightmare.

But at the same time, I couldn’t imagine making any rash decisions without talking to the guys yet.

Although I wasn’t sure howthatconversation would start.

Urgh, it was all a mess.

I ran the water, rinsing my mouth and splashing cool relief against my face.

Gripping the sink, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I barely recognized myself. My skin was pale, my eyes shadowed.

I couldn’t keep doing this.

Hiding. Avoiding. But what was I supposed to do?

Every time I tried to figure out my next move, my thoughts tangled into an impossible knot.

Page Turners.

The legal claim.

My boss breathing down my neck, waiting for me to give him an answer.

And now this.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, my breath hitching. I had no idea what I was doing.

I should be in the city, in my office, where everything was predictable and structured.

Where I wasn’t up to my neck in legal battles and small-town drama.

Where I wasn’t growing attached to things I was never supposed to care about.

The bookstore. The town.

Them.

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