“Okay,” she whispers.
“Good.” I place a soft kiss on her lips one last time. “Because next time I’m not stopping with just once. Next time I’m going to fuck you till you can’t move for a week without thinking of me.”
9
Leigh
Five Weeks Later . . .
* * *
I pour myself a cup of coffee, scrolling through my schedule for the day. I have back-to-back classes from 9 to 3 today, something I’ve started doing twice a week to try to meet the demand for more Pilates classes at the gym.
“Oh,” I pull the cup away from my mouth, the smell making my stomach roll and my mouth fill with saliva, “that’s new.” I lift the cup to my nose again and the same thing happens. I pour the coffee into the sink and glance at the clock. I don’t have time to make another pot, so I just grab a bottle of juice from the fridge along with my bag to head to the gym.
Before I started working here, they only offered Zumba on Monday and Wednesday nights, and half the time, those were canceled. I thought it would take me longer to build up a steady group of people who regularly attended my Pilates and yoga classes, but a year in, I’m already overworked and desperately need to hire a second teacher. Marsha, one of the personal trainers here, is getting her certification and can sub for me whenever I need it.
My phone buzzes and I pull it from my bag as I climb behind the wheel.
Steph: Hey, I’ll be, like, two minutes late to the 3 p.m. class today. Can you save me a spot in the back? Had a bit of an emergency come up.
I read the text twice, my chest tightening a little at the word emergency.
Me: Absolutely. Everything okay?
Steph: Yeah, totally. See you later.
I toss the phone in my cup holder and put the car in reverse. I turn up the radio, Janet Jackson’s “All for You” blaring through my stereo as I sing along. Ever since my interaction with Grant a few weeks ago, I can’t seem to get rid of the pep in my step. I know agreeing to a second date doesn’t mean we’re meant to be or that this is anything more than casual, but I’m excited. A butterfly dances around in my belly as his words echo through my head.
“Next time I’m going to fuck you till you can’t move for a week without thinking of me.”
I reach for my juice, popping the seal at a red light and taking a long drink of the orange juice. It’s tart and refreshing, but almost immediately, the butterfly in my stomach goes from light flutters to a full-on war zone.
“What the hell?” I double-check the “best by” date on the bottom, but I still have two weeks before it expires. I shrug it off. Probably just nerves about Grant plus the lack of sleep from staying up to work through my own studio plans. I pull into the gym, grab my bag, and head inside for a full day of classes.
By the time my last class of the day rolls around, I’m dragging ass. I managed to get down a granola bar and some yogurt around 11, but without caffeine, my lack of sleep is really catching up with me.
I pull a mat out and place it by the back door for Steph.
“Hey, lady, long time no see!” Quinn and Pearl say as they pop into my class.
“Hey, guys! Where have you been? I’ve missed you!” I say, pulling them both in for a hug.
“Well, between kids and pregnancy and life, ugh, you know how it goes,” Pearl says. “But enough excuses. Now that I’ve been cleared by my doctor to get back to working out, I can’t keep avoiding it.”
“Yeah, can you please make us look like you?” Quinn laughs poking my bare stomach, which makes me laugh like the Pillsbury Doughboy.
“Please, you both still look like 22-year-olds.” I laugh and my stomach does a little flip.
“Hey, you okay?” Quinn asks, reaching out and touching my arm. “You look a little green around the gills.”
I smile. “Yeah, just didn’t sleep much last night and didn’t have coffee this morning because my stomach’s been feeling a bit soupy. I’m sure it’ll pass soon. Just exhaustion.”
“Maybe you’re pregnant.” Pearl elbows me as she and Quinn both laugh at the joke, but my stomach drops to my ass. “We’re going to grab our spot. Talk to you after.”
“Oh, Steph will be here a little late, but that’s her mat over there.” I point to where I placed it in the back and they scurry over to grab spots next to it.
I take in a few deep breaths, trying to stop myself from having a full-blown panic attack as I hear Pearl’s words echoing in my brain. I can’t be. I’m on birth control. Even though the condom broke, I wasn’t worried about it because I’m on fucking birth control!
I smile as I shut the door and walk to the front of the room, forcing down all the fears and paranoia threatening to drown me at any second.
“Okay, class, let’s get ready to do some work!” I say enthusiastically as I begin.
“Oh my God, that class was killer. Needed that.” Steph chugs her water bottle, sweat dripping down her neck.
“Hey, you okay?” she asks, tapping my elbow as I stare off into space and do period math in my head.
“Yeah, I—” I glance over my shoulder and see that the rest of the class has pretty much cleared out. Just Sharon and another woman are by the door having a conversation. I pull Steph closer to the corner where I’m cleaning the equipment.
“I’m worried I might be . . .” I hesitate with the word on the tip of my tongue. I’m too scared to say it, “pregnant.” I practically mouth the word instead of saying it. Steph laughs, her eyes searching mine, before she realizes I’m not kidding. Her hand shoots up to cover her mouth as she gasps.
“Oh God, wait, are you serious? Did you take a test?”
“Not yet.” I shake my head.
“Grant?” she asks, her eyes searching mine, and I just give a clipped nod.
“I can run out and get you one right now while you’re finishing up here. Then I’ll stay so you don’t have to take it alone.”
“I’m probably just being paranoid. I’m on birth control and we used protection and my period is always irregular,” I say, trying to ease her concern. “I appreciate it, really, but I’ll be okay. I need to finish up here then I’ll swing by the drugstore on my way home. Besides, don’t they say to take it in the morning?”
“True. Okay, well, I have to get to the bar for my shift.” She looks down at her watch. “But I’ll text you later.” She squeezes my hand then pulls me in for a tight hug. “You’re going to be okay.”
I keep telling myself those same words over and over again on my drive home. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. I glance over at the pregnancy test box in my passenger seat, my stomach fluttering. I take another sip from my water bottle, and my bladder’s already about to burst.
The moment I pull my car into the parking spot, I grab the test and sprint to the door of my apartment. There’s no way I’m waiting until morning.
I’m fumbling with the box. “Why do they shrink-wrap these?” I mutter as my trembling hands drop the box. I take a few deep breaths, shaking out my hands as I pick up the box, open it, and retrieve a test. I unwrap one and sit on the toilet. “Here goes nothing.”