FIRST, A LITTLE RECAP…
I met a boy.
An interesting boy.
A dark, troubled, complex, irresistible boy.
Who spanked very much like a man.
I fell in love.
Harder than I ever thought possible.
He didn’t say it back.
I put it all out there and, because of his past, he pushed me away.
So, we broke up on a busy London street corner.
Then, there was a wedding.
His brother was marrying one of my dearest friends. I had to be there. I tried to maintain my distance, but he did something so huge, so major. He said something so life-changing in front of everybody, there was only one thing left to do…
We made up.
We moved in together.
Now, we’re engaged.
If all of that wasn’t enough to jam pack into a year’s time…well, now there’s this…
***
PRESENT DAY
“Bugger. Bugger. Bugger!”
My hands start to tremble as I watch the pee creep over the white box. First one pink line shows up, then a second.
“I thought these were supposed to take a minute,” I murmur to myself as two pink lines glare back at me. I shakily replace the cap over the pee stick and double-check the instructions. Two lines mean “pregnant,” so this means it’s…positive?
I put the stick down on the counter and stand to pull up my knickers. I smooth down my black sequined party dress and pause as panic takes over me.
I’m pregnant.
We’ve only just got engaged!
Tonight’s our engagement party.
This was not a part of the plan.
As I wash my hands, I glance back at the stick again to be sure my mind isn’t playing tricks on me. There are still two taunting pink lines in the little box. Two glaringly obvious streaks having a laugh at the irony of this situation.
I stare at myself in the mirror. My blonde curls are perfectly loose. My makeup, light and flawless, my blue eyes bright and vibrant. But for some reason, I look different now. I no longer look like the responsible one. I can barely see the twenty-six-year-old daughter that my father still leans on for support, or the girl who sets an example for her man-whorish brothers. Even though they are all grown men, they still need someone to guide them. To be their rock. Their one constant.
The person looking back at me with a baby inside of her isn’t the Vi Harris I’ve strived so hard to be.
And what about Hayden? I couldn’t even believe he proposed to me two weeks ago in the first place. Sure, we’d been living together for a year, but Hayden is…Hayden. It took everything he had just to tell me he loves me. We had a rocky go of it and he spooks so easily. This could mess everything up.
Twirling on my Louboutin heel, I march over to the large, floor-to-ceiling window in my bathroom and stare out over east London. I shiver as I recall the day that Hayden moved in here with me. We were so happy then, so innocent. Our problems were finally trivial for once.
***
ONE YEAR EARLIER
“These floor-to-ceiling windows won’t do, Bunny.” Hayden harrumphs as he drops a moving box down inside my master bathroom and ruffles his dirty blonde hair.
“What do you mean?” I ask, crossing my arms and leaning against the door frame. If any other person on the planet called me Bunny, I would cringe. But from Hayden—standing over there all lean and sculpted in worn jeans and a fitted white T-shirt with that smooth, masculine voice that makes my thighs clench—I’ll allow it.
My eyes shift down to his hands as he adjusts the brown, leather cuffs on his wrists. I suddenly forget about his physical beauty and see the inner beauty that drew me to him in the first place. Hayden wears those cuffs to hide his past from the world, but when he’s with me, he’ll take them off. He’ll expose his scars, let them breathe, give them light…because when we’re together, there is nothing to hide.
Hayden gestures to the huge, sweeping window beside my large claw-foot bathtub. “I don’t need all of bloody England seeing you naked, Vi. If we’re going to live together, I think I deserve to have you all to myself.” His grey eyes pierce me with a possessive glower that doesn’t intimidate me.
It excites me.
“We’re in the tallest building around for miles!” I argue.
He gives me a hard look. “I don’t care.”
“It has a reflective exterior,” I add, my breath catching in my throat at the simple lift of his brow.
“What do you mean?” His voice is different now.
I bite my lip and then reply, “I mean, England only sees England out there.” I gesture back toward the matching windows in my bedroom behind me. “What we see in here is just for us.” His possessive glower turns into molten lava as he begins striding toward me. “Don’t we have more boxes to bring up?” I nearly pant. God, I’m pathetic. I’m a pathetic, wanton floozy. But, it’s my Hayden. And…he loves me.