Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,322

knew everything though, she might understand, but Harper could not bring herself to open up about the baby. So they sat until they were both ready to burst from too much ice cream.

“Do you want to stay here for awhile? You can use the guest room.” Kylie flicked the TV off and stood to gather all the evidence of their glutton fest. Harper scraped her spoon along the bottom of the Cookie Dough carton before handing it over.

It was tempting to hide out there and pretend.

“I appreciate the offer but I’ve got some things I need to do tonight.” She didn’t really, but her doctor’s appointment was first thing in the morning and she didn’t want to have to explain why she was leaving Kylie’s apartment so early, especially when they usually slept in until noon when she stayed over.

“I can have donuts delivered if you do.” Kye wiggled her eyebrows.

Usually the thought of Cloud Nine’s donuts made her mouth water, but right then she was on the verge of throwing up from too much ice cream. “As tempting as that sounds, I really do need to go.” Harper leaned in and gave Kylie a hug. “I’m glad I came by.”

Kylie hugged her back tight. “Me too.” When she stepped away, she swiped her fingers under her eyes. “Call me if you need anything. An ear. A hug. Donuts.”

Harper laughed. “Maybe pizza and a movie later this week?”

“Deal.” After another hug, Harper left the apartment, feeling much lighter than when she arrived. Things didn’t seem quite so overwhelming now. She returned Gerald's smile and stepped out into the fresh air, enjoying the breeze as the doorman hailed her a cab.

“Have nice evening Ms. Matheson,” he said, tipping his head while he opened the car’s door for her.

“You too, Gerald.”

She gave the driver her address and sat back against the seat. Her stomach tumbled and she pressed two fingers between her eyes. The morning sickness had gotten a little better, but eating her weight in sugary dairy product probably wasn’t the best idea. Mixed with the fake cinnamon from the air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror, the air in the cab was a potent combination for her stomach.

A block from her apartment, a sour taste filled her throat. Shit.

“I’ll get out here,” she croaked, pushing the door open as soon as the cab stopped. The burst of fresh air helped ease the queasiness a little. Harper pushed cash at the driver and slammed the door shut behind her.

There was a small corner grocery a few blocks from her apartment so she stopped there first to grab a Ginger Ale and a package of peanut butter snack crackers. And a package of Tums. She had no idea if any of it really worked but it was worth a shot if it kept her from getting reacquainted with all the ice cream she stuffed in her face earlier.

Sitting on a bench tucked into an alcove, Harper watched the people walking by and wondered if any of them were in an emotional whirlwind like she was. In the early evening dim where the sun had fallen behind the tall buildings and streetlights were just flickering on, it was easy to pretend that she was just a normal nobody.

Just another face in the crowd.

But she wasn’t. People in general loved to watch when bad things happened to others. Especially when that person was one of the rich upper class that seemed to have everything handed to them on a platinum platter. When the news of her father’s crimes first came out, the tide had turned against her quicker than she expected.

So many people, strangers, were rooting for her life to epically fail. They said she deserved it, to be taken down a couple hundred notches, to see what it was like to live without luxury and servants and weekly massages. Yes, people who didn’t even know her accused her of getting three hundred dollar massages every seven days.

All because her parents were wealthy.

And oh how they loved to kick her while she was down too. The most recent bout of public opinion on her and Ethan only pointed out that they weren’t nearly done with her yet. Would her whole life be scrutinized under a microscope? Every relationship. Every mistake?

She lowered her hand to rest against her stomach. Fierce protectiveness welled up out of nowhere. She would never give them a chance to call her baby a mistake. Harper would bear the whispers and