The Boss Crush - Penny Wylder Page 0,47

picks up as the realization starts to swell inside. Looking right to left, I remember there's a pharmacy two blocks away. I don't wait, I head right there.

Standing inside, I'm in the family planning aisle, blankly staring at all the options. Pink boxes, boxes covered in flowers, digital results, lines. There are a million ways to see if you've been knocked up.

This is ridiculous. Does there really need to be so many choices?

Picking up one of the boxes covered in flowers, I flip it over to read the back. All the fluff on the outside seems so unnecessary. I mean seriously, is it a scratch and sniff? Because what the hell do a bundle of daisies have to do with being pregnant?

Setting it back on the shelf, I grab the simplest box there is. It's purple with block letters, nothing fancy. I just want the confirmation that I'm not pregnant so I can go on with my day.

Paying at the counter, I take the bag and go into the bathroom. I'm not waiting one more second. The box says I'll have an answer in three minutes, that's fast enough for me.

Locking the door behind me, I peel open the box, and take out the instructions.

One, remove tester from wrapper.

Two, urinate on colored tip.

Three, wait three minutes for results.

That's easy enough.

Following all the steps, I set the tester on the sink, and pace the small bathroom. Three minutes isn't long on a normal day, but three minutes right now feels like a lifetime. I keep checking my phone, but it's not changing.

This is the longest minute of my life.

“Come on,” I say out loud, gripping the sink and hanging my head. The tester teeters on the edge, but I catch it before it can fall.

My eyes land on the small window where the results show, and I can't look away. I watch. I watch as one line appears, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

One line. Okay, good, I was right. I'm not. . . The thought dissolves as a second lighter line appears next to the first.

No. This isn't right.

“No, no, no. This is wrong.” Talking to myself, I rake my nails through my hair and just stare at the window on the test stick. “No. This is definitely wrong.”

I'll take it again.

Throwing the tester into the garbage, I take out the other one from the box. I either screwed it up, or it got messed up when it almost fell. That's why it isn't right. Somehow, some way, I fucked up the test.

Following the directions again, this time I sit it on the back of the toilet where it can't fall. I'm not taking any chances.

Rubbing my hands together, I walk back and forth in front of the toilet. It's not time yet, and I'm not going to jump the gun, and mess this one up too. All I need is for one to give me a negative sign. Just one.

Pushing a hard breath through my lips, I slide my palms down my thighs to dry them off. I can look now, but fear holds me back. I braid my fingers together, curling them around each other, and rubbing them together anxiously.

All right, let’s get this over with.

Picking the tester up, I hold it straight and steady. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths, and then I open them.

Fuck.

Two lines.

Leaning against the wall, I rest my head back, and close my eyes. That makes two. Two tests, two results, both positive.

I'm pregnant. . .

I'm fucking pregnant.

Sliding down the wall, I rest my head between my knees, gripping my temples with the pads of my fingers. Everything is spinning. My head. My stomach. The world.

My phone rings, sending my stomach into my throat. With shaky hands, I pull it out of my purse to see the word Vox flash across my screen.

Shit.

I don't answer, letting it go to voicemail. There's no way I can talk to him right now. I'm a damn mess. My head is all over the place, I feel like I'm going to throw up again. Tears rest on the sharp edges of my lids, ready to break away the second I blink.

I can't have a conversation with Lyle right now, not like this. But he calls back.

Settling my nerves, I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Answering the call, I keep the tremble out of my voice the best I can. “Hey,” I say.

“What time are you coming back? You left