I crack the window. It’s far too stuffy in here with us breathing the same air.

“I hate this song,” she says and turns off the radio, leaving us in awkward silence.

Her hand is draped over the steering wheel, her mouth a hard set.

“Who’s the father?” she blurts out.

I lean my head against the window, trying not to get sick. The last thing I want to tell her is who the father is. It won’t take her long to figure out seeing as I have no friends and the only place I ever want to be is next door.

“Is it Deacon?” she finally asks.

As much as I want to, it’s too late to deny it. She’ll find out eventually. I just wanted him to be the first to know.

I nod.

supposed to watch his

I was getting myself into when Deacon and I hadn’t used protection, and he knew too. This wasn’t an accident like when my mom got pregnant with me. I want this. So does Deacon. At least I hope he still does. It’s a

“I was afraid your childhood crush would come back to haunt me. I’d hoped those feelings had

you know about my

was around—not that you were any different than the other women in the neighborhood. We were all guilty of ogling him. Me included.

on the man who is now potentially the

knots. Not only because of the morning sickness and my mom and Sam’s judgment, but also because I need to tell Deacon. I just hope he meant what he said about filling me with his seed and watching my stomach grow. If he was just saying

ask. I hate it when my mom is

just don’t want you to end up a single mom like me. It’s difficult raising a child on your own

like Dad. He’ll help

Bailey is his pride and joy—oh my god, it just hit me; if I’m pregnant, Bailey and this child are going to be siblings. The thought makes me unreasonably happy even though I know I shouldn’t get my hopes up. There could be a hundred reasons for my pregnancy symptoms. Stress is one of them, and I’ve definitely been

help out?” my mom asks. “He already has

look down at my hands, braid

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