Elaine shudders. “Those things are germ factories. Come to think of it, Astrid, you’ve been sick a lot lately.”
“Not that often,” she says.
“I heard you throwing up in the bathroom twice last week.”
“Oh no,” says Dory. “Could it be something you ate?”
“It’s probably just your period,” Leena says.
Elaine butters a roll. “If I wasn’t driving you everywhere, I’d think you were pregnant.”
A hush falls over the table. No coffee. No raw salmon. Morning sickness...
Every major organ system in my body grinds to a halt.
Astrid sweeps a lock of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. I recognize the nervous gesture for what it is.
Leena laughs, breaking the silence. “Astrid literally does nothing but go to work and come home every single day.”
“That’s how I know she’s not pregnant,” Elaine says.
It’s been nearly four months since Astrid and I had sex. If she was pregnant, she’d be showing by now. It would be obvious to anyone who knew where to look.
So why the fuck didn’t I see it before?
Her gaze flits around the table, taking in every square surface that isn’t attached to me. Eventually, I catch her, like a butterfly in a net. She knows I see the truth she’s trying to hide.
“Excuse me,” she says, rising from the table. “I need to use the restroom.”
She rounds the table and scampers off, nearly colliding with a server on her way out of the dining room. Every muscle in my body is shouting, go after her. I tell myself that I can’t do this here. It’s too risky, too public.
But I need to know for sure.
“Anyone want a refill?” I grab my pint glass and make like I’m heading for the bar.
Down a short hallway past the lectern, I find two unisex bathrooms. I knock on both doors and listen for Astrid’s voice.
“Just a sec,” she calls out. A moment later, she opens the door, looking startled but not. “What are you doing here, Finn?”
“Looking for you.” I move past her into the bathroom and shut the door.
“What do you want?” She’s got the same look on her face that she used to get when I asked if she finished her homework, knowing damn well she hadn’t.
“Astrid, is there something you need to tell me?”
“Like what?” she asks. I raise my brows. She folds her arms below her breasts, which only accentuates how much they’ve grown. “God, you’re worse than my mom.”
She angles her body away from me. I scrub a hand over my beard and sigh. Asking nicely is getting us nowhere. She thinks if she can cook up a smart-ass answer to every question, I’m just gonna get tired and accept the lie. But that’s not how this game works. Not when I play it.
I move toward her until she’s backed up against the wall.
“Finn, please,” she says in a breathy voice that instantly makes my dick hard. It’s not quite the soft, girlish voice she used that night on the playground, but it’s close. Very close, like we are now.
“If you’re not gonna be honest with me, I’ll have to find out the truth for myself.” I slide my hand under her sweater. Her abdomen trembles as I smooth my hand down her belly.
The bump is impossible to miss.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” she whispers.