Page 87 of Trapped
“What do you put on yours? No, let me guess. All the meats.” She said meats like it was a bad thing.
“I’ll have you know I like sausage, peppers, and onions on my pizza.”
“Ew, gross.”
“Which part?”
“Sausage. It doesn’t belong on a pizza.”
“Says the girl who wants pineapple.”
Ashley typed the address of her favorite pizza place into my phone.
“I think I’ll get wings, too.”
There was something infinitely sexy about a woman who wasn’t afraid to eat. The image of her devouring the cheese fries we were supposed to share the night we met flashed through my mind. It’d taken every ounce of control I’d possessed not to lick the cheese off her lips or suck it off her fingers.
We rode in comfortable silence until I ruined it. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” she answered, sounding slightly hesitant.
“Do you think Finn’s the type of guy who’d hurt a child?” If she said yes, I’d do everything in my power to keep him out of their lives.
“Not physically, but he’s so self-centered I don’t think he’d hesitate to use our child as a pawn to get what he wants.”
“That’s not any better.” I’d seen too many kids have their childhoods destroyed because one or both parents treated them as weapons to hurt the other.
“I know.” She paused, fiddling with her phone. “I need to show you something, but you can’t get upset.”
Which pretty much guaranteed I would. “I can’t promise that.”
“Please?” I nodded. “Finn’s been texting and calling me.” A low growl formed in my throat. Before I could plot his demise, she said, “I meant to tell Jamie, but I kept forgetting because other things kept happening.”
She promised to show me the texts later, when I wasn’t driving. As predicted, I was upset, but it was directed at Finn, not Ashley.
Upset wasn’t quite accurate. I wanted to rip him from limb to limb.
Ashley said, “I have an appointment with Dr. Greenfield on Wednesday.” From the way she said the doc’s name, I assumed he or she was the family doctor.
“Pregnancy test?” I asked.
She nodded. “Is it bad that I’m desperately hoping I’m not?”
“No.” I’d feel the same way in her shoes. “Are false positives common?” I wasn’t trying to be an ass, but I knew nothing about home pregnancy tests and couldn’t ask the internet while driving.
“No.” More tears tracked down her perfect but pale face as she turned away.
“Ashley.” I squeezed her thigh. “It’s okay to be scared.”
She nodded but didn’t look back.
I reached over and turned her head so she was facing me. “Please don’t hide from me, okay?”
She wiped away her tears. “Okay. Sorry.”
“And don’t apologize. I can only imagine how overwhelmed you feel.”
I insisted on paying when she ordered a large Hawaiian pizza, claiming Gran liked it too, and two dozen chicken wings.
