The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance, Fabiola Francisco [top 20 books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Fabiola Francisco
Book online «The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance, Fabiola Francisco [top 20 books to read TXT] 📗». Author Fabiola Francisco
I sigh and wipe a smudge of paint that landed on the side of my toe as I tried to paint the edge and look up at the television, not really interested in the movie. Lately, I’m not interested in much. I’ve been feeling weird, chalking it up to homesickness and my attempt at processing everything that’s happened with Camden since that fateful night.
Our chats may seem playful or even annoying from my end, but there’s a deeper reason he keeps writing, and I keep responding. A reason I’m not sure I want to explore. Now or ever. I thought I’d arrive back home after the wedding and be over sleeping with Camden in a week’s time. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am style and move on. I’m still stuck on the bam part of that, and I don’t see how I can move on if I’m obsessively thinking about him.
I switch feet, painting the toes on my right foot when my phone rings with an incoming video call. I answer Noel’s call and lean the phone against a candle on the table so I can continue my pedicure.
“Hey,” I look over at the screen and smile.
Noel squints her eyes. “Girl, you need to shave your legs. I can see your prickly hairs from here.”
“Asshole, I shaved last night.” I drop my leg from the table. I’ll continue my pedicure after I hang up with her, so she won’t go on and on about how a lady should always be prepared for the unexpected, AKA sex.
“What’s wrong with you?” Her face gets closer to the screen as if that would give her a better view of my face.
“Nothing,” I shrug.
“Are you staying in tonight?” Her eyebrows furrow.
“Yeah, I feel kinda blah. I don’t know what it is. Besides, it’s Thursday.”
“You’re grouchy…” She scrunches up her nose. “You’ve gone out during the week in the past. Maybe you should order pizza and some dessert and just pig out. That always helps.”
“Yeah, it must be PMS, but my damn period won’t show up already.”
“Did you have sex recently and not tell me? You’re holding out on me!” Noel’s voice rings with amusement.
“No!” I answer automatically because that would usually be the case. Until it dawns on me…
“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!” I jump and start flapping my arms like a wild woman.
“What?” Noel interrupts my freak-out. “Wait… Did you?” Her eyes widen as big as saucers, and her mouth drops open. “You little skank. And you kept it a secret from me?” She slaps the table next to her laptop, her eyes bright.
“Shut up.” I drop on my couch. “Oh. My. God.” This can’t be happening. I drop my face in my hands, leaning down on my elbows on the table.
“Hold on…” Noel’s voice now rings with worry. “If you slept with someone, and now your period is late—”
“Stop talking,” I cut her off. “It could just be a coincidence. It can’t be… I-I can’t be… Fuck,” I groan.
It’s impossible for me to be pregnant. We used protection, right? I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember the foggy memories from a few weeks ago. Between the few drinks I had and the heady feel of his hands on my hips, I can’t recall what we did in terms of condoms.
“Who’s the father of your possible child?” She breaks up my thoughts.
When I lift my head to meet my best friend’s eyes, I cringe. “Camden.”
“Holy shit-balls on fire. Camden Steele?” I nod. “Your brother’s going to kill you.”
I cover my mouth with my hand, nodding as tears run down my cheeks, and my entire body trembles as I release a shaky breath. I check the time on my phone and notice most pharmacies are closed already, but there’s always one that’s open through the night for emergencies, and damn it, this is one big emergency.
“Ally?” Noel whispers, her voice small and concerned, so unlike her. “It’ll be okay. Take a test before you have a panic attack over stubborn hormones. When I travel, it throws my period off, so it could be that.”
“I’m over five weeks late. I was supposed to get it right after the wedding because I remember praying it wouldn’t come while I was on the plane.”
“Oh, yeah, no one wants to bleed out of their vajayjay while up in the air with those tiny and gross bathrooms.”
“I gotta go,” I leap to my feet, grabbing my phone as I search for my purse. Where the hell did I leave it? Not in my room, not on the couch. I check the hook by the front door and exhale a relieved breath when I see it. Slipping on flip-flops, I couldn’t give three fucks if I’m dressed in pajamas.
“I’ll call you back,” I tell Noel and hang up, googling the pharmacy that’s open tonight, and wave down a taxi as soon as it drives by. Slipping into the backseat, I tell him where I’m headed and incessantly tap my fingers against my legs. My heart is threatening to leave my body and flop around on the ground, mocking me, since I feel like, at any minute, my life could be over.
What if I am pregnant?
I’ve never had to consider that question. I’m always careful, and I’ve only ever had a handful of partners, all guys I was dating or in a relationship with until now. It very well could be what Noel said—traveling always throws my body off, too. I’m sure I’ll get my period soon. If not, I have no idea where to even begin making decisions. Starting with, do I tell Camden? And how do I approach him?
I swallow back my tears as the taxi pulls up to the pharmacy. Asking him if he wouldn’t mind waiting, I ring the doorbell on the
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