“Hi, Ligaya.” The intimacy of Tristan’s gravelly voice catapults me right back to our night together.
Body:What’s so wrong with revisiting that night? He’s already here, looking like the cover model for a romance novel.
Brain:Shut up. You are not in charge.
Body:He’s staring at your mouth like he wants to kiss you again.
Brain:Kissing is how we got here.
Body:It’s not like you can get MORE pregnant.
Brain:That is not helpful.
Body:I’m not going for helpful. I’m going for fun. The naked, reverse cowgirl kind of fun.
“It might save us time if you shared whatever is going on up there.” He taps his temple.
Tristan’s lips twitch like he readnaked, reverse cowgirlon my forehead.
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside, wishing I could slam the door on this loud internal debate between my brain and my body.
He walks in slowly, filling the air with his ridiculous mojito scent of fresh mint and warm sugar.
“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Something stronger?”
“I’m fine. I came from brunch with my parents.”
“How are they?”
“Ever sit in a room that looks like a magazine spread for a cozy Christmas but feels like a meat locker?”
I give a sympathetic smile, although I can’t imagine having parents like the Thornes. We settle onto opposite ends of the couch.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Here we go.
I fold my hands together in my lap and then unfold them again. Although I’ve known Tristan for years, I have no idea how he’ll react to news like this.
“First, I want to say I don’t need anything from you. I’m letting you know out of, um, respect. Courtesy.”
He raises a brow. “Courteous is the first thing that comes to mind when I think about you.”
I don’t react to his gentle sarcasm. I’m gearing up to say something more significant than a comeback.
“Sorry. You were saying.” Tristan leans forward, elbows on thighs.
I swallow. “I’m pregnant.”
He blinks slowly. Once. Twice. Hazel eyes widen, specks of green brighter than normal.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
I nod. “Three home tests and one at the doctor’s. Breakdown in the parking lot and everything.”
His jaw flexes. “Are you feeling OK?”
Surprised by the question, I clear my throat to answer.
