Big Bad Boys A Romance Collection - Penny Wylder Page 0,159

into the cart. Just in case.

Paying for my groceries, I throw them into the back of my car and drive home. Carrying the bags into my apartment, I set them down on the counter, and only take out the pregnancy test.

I can hear my phone going off in my purse, one ping after another. Digging around, I take it out and see it's Daniel. He's texted me four times already, telling me to call him, and wondering where the hell I am.

And right now. . . I don't give a shit. He can wait.

Flipping the box over, I read the directions.

Remove test strip from foil.

Put tip of test in urine stream for five seconds.

Wait three minutes.

That's it? Three minutes of my time, and I know the card my future's been dealt?

How do you learn if you're having a baby or not in three minutes?

It's super simple, a little too simple I think to tell you if you're prego or not, but I guess it doesn't need to be that difficult either.

Going into the bathroom, I sit down, and hold the test strip in place. Staring off, I wait, and I wait, and I wait. I don't have to pee.

Figures. I have to pee a million times a day, but when I actually need to go, I can't.

Huffing, I stand up and turn on the sink. I let the cold water run for a few seconds, before sticking my mouth against the stream. I drink fast and quick, hoping the sudden onslaught of icy cool water will kick start my bladder.

Sitting back down, all I can do is wait. I probably could have waited until I knew I had to pee, but I got ahead of myself and just want to take this test and be done with it. It's just easier to know.

Once I know it's negative, I'll be able to go on with my day, talk to Daniel about this publicity thing, and forget this whole pregnancy scare to begin with.

I feel like I'm sitting for hours. My legs are numb from my knees up, and my lower back is starting to ache. A little tingle hits my vagina, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Finally!

After peeing on the stick, I slip the clear cover on, and set it on the granite top. Going into my kitchen, I grab the egg timer and set it to three minutes. It starts to tick. Placing it on the stove, I wipe clammy hands over my thighs.

What if it's positive?

It's not. I know it's not. I'd know if I were pregnant, I'd feel it.

Right?

Pacing back and forth between my bathroom and the kitchen, I'm biting my nails, tearing them down to the bed. I don't want to wait anymore, I just want the answer.

Now, the three minutes makes sense. I get it completely. The sooner the better. I need to know and I need to know now.

Who wants to wait any longer than they need to for an answer like this?

My eyes dart to the clock on the stove, fully aware that I just checked it seconds before. Never has time gone so slow, it's torture.

My phone pings again, a distraction for the moment, and I'll gladly take it. Something to occupy me for the next minute and half. Sliding my thumb across the screen, it's Daniel again.

His message is less friendly and more demanding. 'Where the hell are you? CALL ME'

Throwing my phone across the counter, I grip my temples and close my eyes. Not right now, I'm not doing it. I know he's just going to berate me for not calling sooner, interrogating me about why it took so long and where I've been. I don't have the time or the patience for him right now.

Brring! Brring!

Jumping up straight, the egg timer is vibrating as it rings on the stove. Holding my chest, I turn it off and let out a heavy breath. It startles me. I'm shaking, eager and terrified all at once.

My eyes turn to the bathroom door, and I hesitate. I know it's ready, I know my answer is right there, but I'm too afraid to move.

Just go! Get it over with!

Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly and push myself forward. This anxiety is only going to end once I see that single line on the test strip. I can see it on the sink from the doorway, but it's still too far away to read it.

My steps are slow, feathered on