The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,62

within. “Tough doesn’t begin to describe how I feel right now.”

Samira had expected Pia to have a hard time with the news of her pregnancy, but she hadn’t expected this cold disdain, like she’d somehow done this deliberately to hurt her. But then she glimpsed the truth in Pia’s eyes.

Pain. Potent and raw. Complete and utter devastation.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Pia barked out. “I know I’m being a bitch, but I can’t handle . . . I mean, I can’t deal . . .” She let out a sob that raised Samira’s hackles.

This time when Samira stepped forward and reached for her, Pia allowed her to bundle her into her arms, as she heard a whispered, “It should’ve been me.”

Samira’s heart ached for her cousin as she held her tight, waiting until her tears subsided before easing away.

“It will happen for you—”

“Please don’t give me platitudes right now.” Pia shrugged off Samira’s arms and stood, backing away. “I need time to process.”

“Okay.”

As resentment replaced the sorrow in Pia’s gaze, Samira wished things could be different. She hadn’t expected Pia to be over the moon about her pregnancy, but they’d been best friends for a long time, and Pia hadn’t even offered congratulations. In fact, Pia was so consumed by self-pity and resentment she’d pretty much forgotten how Samira had once yearned for a child and how shattered she’d been when she couldn’t have one.

Considering her oligomenorrhea, conceiving naturally at her age was nothing short of a miracle, and a part of her wished Pia would acknowledge that rather than . . . blaming her.

“I have to say, it’s pretty irresponsible of you, what with you taking on the role here for six months and—”

“Are you kidding me?” Samira shook her head, unable to bite her tongue a moment longer. “You’re telling me off like I’m a child for something that is so incredible for me I can hardly believe it?”

She pressed her hand protectively over her stomach, an instinctive reaction she’d seen other mothers-to-be do and had been envious of each and every time. “I was worried about telling you my news, but I also hoped you’d share in my excitement. You know how much this means to me . . .”

She trailed off as Pia’s lips compressed in disapproval. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’re happy for me? That you love me and you’ll support me through this? That you’ll be here for me?” Samira flung her arms wide. “I need you—”

“And I already told you, I need time,” Pia muttered, shaking her head. “I can’t do this right now.”

With that, Pia spun on her heel and marched to the door, leaving Samira stunned and incredibly hurt.

“Pia, please . . .”

In response to her plea, Pia slammed the door.

Twenty-Nine

Rory may never have had a real relationship, but when Samira called asking him to meet at her place ASAP, he knew something was drastically wrong.

She exuded a vibrancy he loved, and that carried through to her voice, whether she was discussing her work or LA or her family. But she’d been subdued on the phone, and her request had a hint of plea about it. It scared him. Just his luck when he was on top of the world professionally and personally, something had to go wrong.

Was she dumping him before they’d barely started up? Crazy, considering their afternoon together yesterday and the way they’d left things this morning. They were dating. Officially. So why would she do a backflip so soon?

He’d made it to her place in record time and tried not to appear too cagey as the security guard who took him up to her room kept casting suspicious glances his way. He knew why. He fidgeted whenever he was nervous, so the constant watch checking, belt tightening, finger flexing must make him look like someone up to no good.

When they reached her door, he stabbed at the bell, trying to ignore the guard’s stare. She took an eternity to answer, and when she opened the door, the dread in his gut solidified into a solid ball of worry.

Bloodshot eyes. Red-tipped nose. She’d been crying.

“Thanks, mate, I’ve got it from here,” he said to the guard, who waited until Samira gave a nod of approval before striding away.

“Are you okay?” He took her into his arms without waiting for a response, hoping a hug could do more than words ever could. Besides, if he held her, he wouldn’t be tempted to blab, Are you dumping