“I bet it’s fabulous,” I say and squeeze her arm.
Trey and Jordan join us in the kitchen as Kristen lights the candles and they all start singing. I don’t even pretend to act humble, or like it’s no big deal. It is a big deal. I’m celebrating my birthday the way I want – with my friends, and my boyfriend, with a cake that’s not made by my mom, and my life is finally starting to feel like my own. Moment by moment. Like I belong to myself.
So I sing along, and the four us are loud as loud can be.
“Now make a wish,” Kristen says, gesturing to the candles.
Leaning close, I gather my breath, and blow the flames out at once. I wish for more moments like this.
“What did you wish for?” Trey asks as he reaches for my hand, laces his fingers through mine. I love that we hold hands, that we held hands as friends, and now as more.
“I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”
He sticks out his tongue at me as Kristen serves the cake on small plates for each of us.
“Mmm. Delicious,” Jordan declares after a bite.
Kristen rolls her eyes. “You’re just saying that to score points.”
“No. This really is good cake,” Trey says after he takes a forkful.
“Now you’re just backing up your buddy,” she says.
“Kristen, you are going to have to accept that you actually made a delicious cake in a tiny New York kitchen,” I tell her after I finish another bite.
Soon, she and Jordan have moved to the living room to pick out a movie on the laptop, while Trey and I wash off the plates. As I rinse the final one, he loops his arms around my waist, rests his chin on my shoulder, and sneaks in a kiss on my neck.
“Mmm. Is that my birthday present?”
He tugs me against him, my back to his front. “I have many presents for you,” he says in a sexy, suggestive voice.
I shut off the faucet and turn around in his arms. “Being with you, like this, is all I want.”
“But I still want to give you more presents,” he says playfully.
I brush my lips against his. “I will gladly accept. But this is already the best birthday ever,” I say, because it is. Because I am living in the moment. In the present. Making the most of it. Taking every day one day at a time.
Then we kiss, one of those sweet, lingering kisses that makes you feel as if you’re floating.
“C’mon. Opening credits starting,” Kristen says, calling out to us.
We head to the living room, and start the movie, all curled up on the couch, like puppies in a litter, Kristen and Jordan tangled together, and Trey and I wrapped up in each other.
But after a half hour, my stomach starts to churn again.
“Excuse me,” I say and head to the bathroom. As soon as I shut the door, I feel the cake rising back up, so I cover my mouth with my hand, then quickly realize that won’t do the trick. I bend over the toilet and say goodbye to my birthday cake.
I cough a few times, flush the toilet, then wash my hands. I reach for my toothbrush, squirt on some toothpaste and brush my teeth to get rid of the yucky taste. I watch myself in the mirror, the repetitive motion lulling away the strange twists in my stomach.
Then it hits me.
Like a bigass wave you didn’t see coming. It slams me to the shore, and I drop my toothbrush into the sink. As it clatters, a speckle of toothpaste ricochets into my eye. It stings momentarily, and I rub it away quickly.
I kneel and open the cupboard below the sink, rummaging for something Kristen once needed several months ago.
My heart is speeding and smashing against the walls of my chest. No way, no way, no way.
But as I count backwards, I’m certain it’s been more than four weeks, and I don’t know how this could have happened. We were safe. Every time. But then, condoms can break. Is it my fault since I always put them on him? Did I slip and nick one with my fingernail? No. I’m just freaking out. I’m being ridiculous like Kristen was when she bought this test. Hers was negative, as I predicted it would be.
She flashed the stick before me, cheering up and down over one pink line.
I reach for the other stick, the one she didn’t need since hers was negative.
I read the instructions, and it’s not morning, it’s night. But hell if I care. I need to know. I need to settle my paranoid heart.
I sit down on the toilet, pee on the stick, and wait all those interminable minutes for an answer.
Trey told me nothing on the planet could come between us, but if anything could, this would be it, right? Nothing would scare him more than this. Nothing in the entire universe.
I close my eyes, lean my head against the wall and pray.
When I open my eyes and hold up the stick, I am seasick, my future is out of focus, and even though my world has gone blurry I can see clearly two pink lines.
I have no idea how the father of the baby is going to take this news.
To be continued….
Stay tuned for book 2 in the No Regrets series, EVERY SECOND WITH YOU, releasing in early 2014. And for more of Harley and Trey and the full story of the night they met, check out the prequel novella, THE START OF US, releasing in early December 2013.
Check out my other contemporary romance novels!
Caught Up In Us, a New York Times and USA Today Bestseller! (Kat and Bryan’s romance!)
Pretending He’s Mine, a Barnes & Noble and iBooks Bestseller! (Reeve & Sutton’s romance)
Trophy Husband, a New York Times and USA Today Bestseller! (Chris & McKenna’s romance)
Playing With Her Heart, a USA Today Bestseller! (Davis and Jill’s romance)
Far Too Tempting, an Amazon romance bestseller! (Matthew and Jane’s romance)
Acknowledgements
Nobody tells you that the acknowledgements is the most terrifying part of writing a novel. I am praying I don’t leave anyone out because I have so very many people to thank. But my first thank you as always, forever and ever, goes to my amazing readers. I have said it before, and I will never grow tired of saying it – I love you all. You are the reason I write. I love hearing from you, I love your notes, emails, tweets, posts, reviews and sweet comments. They fill my heart with so much happiness, and you make me want to write more. You are passionate and vocal and I adore you all. Thank you.
Next in line is the inimitable Monica Murphy. She is my cheerleader, my pimp, my friend, my sounding board, my shoulder to lean on and, most of all, she is the reason this book exists. The idea was on the back burner for many years until she told me I had to write The Thrill of It. So, really, she made me do it. And I love her for it!
My publicist and friend Kelly at Inkslinger PR didn’t balk when I told her I wanted to write a call girl/love & sex addiction book next. She was ready in seconds to strategize, and she has been terrific, nimble and passionate at every step of the journey.
A massive thank you to Sawyer Bennett for beta reading and to my amazing wonderful Zoe for her keen eye and vital feedback. Kim Bias was my line of defense, thoughtfully providing important input for my final edits, and jumping in whenever I needed her.
And then there is my friend Hetty. Without Hetty, I would not have this beautiful cover that I love. Like a treasure hunter, she found the photo on her own when I simply told her the concept for the story. A cover is a team project, and I am lucky to have the immensely talented Sarah Hansen in my corner. She knocked this one out of the park with her gorgeous design and her skill at tracking down the photographer. Credit for the beautiful cover photo goes to Anthony Langlois at Glimpse Photography. I am so glad to be in business with you, Anthony. You are an artist and a gentleman, and your models are my characters. No questions asked.