Page 23 of Pregnancy Scandal
“He has, Abby. It’s just good that you guys are friends.”
“I messed it all up. I have.” I nodded.
“You don’t know that. I personally don’t think you did. And hey, I sort of noticed he got your name tattooed on his chest.” She smirked. “You never told me that.”
“I didn’t know.” He never told me, and it was definitely the kind of thing you wouldn’t leave out.
“He got a tattoo of your name and never told you? I’m pretty certain that wasn’t a last night thing.”
I sighed. I would have loved to indulge in the mystery of that, but it was so far down the scale of importance it actually didn’t matter. We had bigger fish to fry. When I started drinking at the wedding, I’d had no intention of getting so wasted. Those guys I was talking to at the reception were friends of a friend from work. God knew why I thought it was a good idea to talk to them, and only God knew what would have happened to me if I’d gone with them.
Based on what actually happened with Gilly, I was starting to wish I had gone with those guys. I wouldn’t have felt like this now if I had.
“What am I going to do?” I said more to myself than to Mia.
“Talk to him.” She nodded.
Talk…
He was the one person in this world who I could always talk to about anything and everything. Talking to him after this encounter, however, seemed like sending me to a death sentence.
I could be pregnant.
I never got to the part of my crazy idea where I would have told him I had gone off the pill. Mia was the only person I’d told that.
Gilly didn’t know that part. I could be pregnant.
How would he feel if I was?
He’d be the father of my child.
Chapter 8
Gilly
* * *
Think…
Damn it. Think…
I willed myself to remember how I could have ended up having sex with Abby last night, but nothing was coming. Nothing past the point where I’d taken my clothes off.
What I recalled was enough, and I probably remembered all those parts because they were the parts before I lost control and lost my mind.
I’d been sitting in the park outside my house now for three hours. It was just after lunchtime, and I’d been out here thinking and willing myself to remember if I actually did sleep with Abby.
All that came to my mind was kissing her and indulging in her breasts.
All I had in my head was her with her perky tits in my face and me sucking on them while she moaned in pleasure.
Even when I traced back to the wedding and tried to start from the part where we left the building, went to her place, drank the rum, and talked, my mind fast-tracked to the kissing and the tasting.
Kissing and tasting…then what came next?
I remembered falling to the floor, and that was it. Cut scene. It was like someone cut the scene from my mind.
Fuck. This was so fucked up, and now I actually didn’t know what to do.
