Page 86

Carrie

Hugging herself, Carrie paced Kid’s bedroom and chewed on her bottom lip. How could this have happened? What was she going to do about it? When had they been so careless?

“Hey, Phoenix,” Kid cooed as he entered the room.

Halting her steps, Carrie’s head jerked in his direction, and her heart lodged in her throat. She’d never been in this position before. Throughout her entire life, she’d always taken precautions—whether it be birth control pills, condoms, even an IUD at one point. How in the world had she forgotten the birds and the bees?

When he got closer to her, he went to hug her but paused. Resting his hands on her upper arms, he crouched and peered at her as though to get a better understanding of her expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I think— We— I—” she stammered through the beginning of the sentence but couldn’t summon the words.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. In with the good. She held her breath a moment before she exhaled. Out with the bad.

“Carrie?” he asked.

Since speaking seemed to escape her, she went into the private bathroom. On the sink, in a little Dixie cup, sat her urine. Three sticks were in it. She’d read them all and still couldn’t believe it.

Grabbing them, she hesitated.

This wasn’t the right time for this to happen. They barely knew each other. She should take care of it without him knowing. That thought sank in her chest like a lead balloon.

She couldn’t do that to him. Besides, she didn’t have the means, or the excuses, to leave Oklahoma to get that shit done. Not to mention, she’d already had one existential crisis in her life. Did she really need another?

Was she ready for this?

Were they, as a couple?

“What is it?” Kid asked as he finally followed her in.

His gaze shifted from her to the three sticks in her hand—two pink, the other blue.

He pointed to them. “Are those what I think they are?”

There was no way around it now. She couldn’t lie to him. Biting her lips together, she nodded.

He blinked but said nothing.

What did that mean?

Her heart raced, rattling against her ribs. She was twenty-nine years old—almost thirty—biologically perfect timing, but Kid was only twenty-four. Far too young to be faced with this. He had a lot of life to live before being tied down.

His Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. He stepped closer. “What do they say?” he asked, extending his hand for them.

Jesus Christ.

With shaking hands, she offered him the three pee sticks.

“Two lines…” he said before switching attention to the digital one. “Holy fuck.”

Was that good or bad? Was he happy? Pissed?

Carrie braced herself.

Kid wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. “We’re going to have a baby!”

As he twirled her, he peppered her with kisses. Each one offered her that much more relief.