Chapter Eighty-Nine

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My heart stutters. My lungs seize. My mouth goes impossibly dry, and I'm finding it particularly hard to swallow right now. My stupid fingers forget how to work and I accidentally drop the box of condoms in panic.

Time seems to stop, and my scrambled brain can't seem to function properly, much less decide what to do. The phone continues to vibrate, and each vibration sends another wave of panic straight into my already wrecked system.

I fish through by bag frantically for the phone, almost dropping the damn thing once I have it in my trembling hands. I almost drop my bag, too. I can't believe how startled and flustered I am. I just really didn't expect him to call. I'm totally caught off guard.

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God...

I'm seriously freaking out, and I don't know if I can calm down enough in time to even form a coherent sentence, much less have an actual conversation with the man.

And what the hell am I even going to say? Hell, what's he going to say?

Is he calling to check on me? To make sure I'm not running late? 'Cause if he is, then I'm off to a much worse start than I thought.

Maybe I can just lie and say that I'm almost there? There's no way he'll know—

Shit.

The Ice Block.

He probably has the damn thing linked up to his own phone. He can probably trace its GPS. He'll know where I am. And he'll also know I'm lying if I say otherwise.

I don't have any firsthand experience with that particular aspect of him—at least not yet. But from what I have seen of him so far; his extreme candidness, blatant propositioning, and all-out transparency on this arrangement from the very beginning and even my health issues, Frost sort of pegs me as the kind of man who doesn't need to lie, and thus, the kind of man that doesn't like being lied to.

My breathing turns ragged, as if I just ran ten miles in the mind-numbing cold butt-naked.

No, no, no, don't think about being butt-naked right now, my brain screams.

I bring the Ice Block up to my eyes with shaky hands, ready to hit the answer button. But then, I pause.

My eyebrows draw closer in confusion, and a frown tugs at my lips. It's not vibrating. There's no incoming call showing up on the screen. But there's still vibrations coming from inside my bag.

The wheels in my head start spinning again, and I realize that it isn't the Ice Block.

It's my phone.

Slight relief washes over me as I move to grab it. But as soon as my eyes meet the screen, my anxiety returns ten-fold and I freeze in absolute horror as I see Trixie's name on the caller ID.

Oh, my God, this chick seriously has the worst timing ever!!!

Ugh, I want to choke her right now for the panic attack I almost just had. If she wasn't my best friend and one of the only few people in the world who gives a damn about me, I probably would.

I curse everything around me, including myself.

Mostly myself.

I want to ignore the call so badly, my shaky thumb hovering closely over the red button, but with a deep sigh and wince I reluctantly move my thumb over to the answer button and push down. I brace myself as I bring the phone to my ear and wait for her to speak first.

Her raspy voice comes through. "Hello?"

"Hey, Trix," I say, hoping to God I don't sound as nervous and guilty as I feel. "I haven't heard from you in a while. Everything okay?"

This really is the worst timing possible, but I can't bring myself to ditch her. Not again.

"Hey," she replies, sounding slightly tired. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just been dealing with a few things. I'm sorry, I know you tried calling me a few times but I wasn't really up for talking then. I kind of am now, though."

Terrific.

"Actually," she continues, "I could really use someone to talk to and Bill and I aren't really talking right now. Not sure when that's gonna change. You mind if I come over?"

My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. "I thought you went home already."

"No, I decided to stay in town until tomorrow. I kinda needed some time and space to figure a few things out. But I was gonna come over to your place in like thirty minutes—"

"Actually, I can't really talk right now. I'm on my way to my Gran's," I say, my voice slightly strained by the lie it's trying to tell.

There's a smidgen of a pause before she speaks again.

"Oh," she says, and I can hear the disappointment in her voice. And when she speaks again, she sounds even more unusual; overly bubbly and perky. It's completely out of character for her. It's as if she's nervous or trying to hide something. "Okay, well I guess I'll just have to tell you over the phone, then. You might want to grab some popcorn and some vodka 'cause, man, do I have one hell of a story to tell you—"

"Sorry, Trix," I quickly interject, knowing that this conversation is probably going to last a few hours if I let it. And even if I wasn't in a rush to Frost's, I don't have the minutes for a three-hour gossip slash catch-up session right now.

"I really can't talk right now," I insist, accidentally meeting the eyes of the teller in the distance as I try to keep my voice down. "I'll call you back as soon as I can, okay?" I have to be vague, not promising to call her back at a specific time because I really don't know when I'll be able to talk to her this weekend, if at all.

In fact, I'm sure I won't be able to in Frost's place. How weird would that be, anyway? I'd have to be insane to do something as crazy as that. Then again, a year ago I would have said the exact same thing about doing exactly what I'm doing right now; trying to get my best friend off the phone so I can buy condoms to go fuck a married man for money...

Christ, I want to cry. I've seriously hit rock bottom.

I don't want to give her any more time to reply or contest, but right before I can hang up she says two words that make me freeze right in my tracks.

"I'm pregnant."

***

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