Page 186 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“Not good now,” I huffed, downing the rest of my beer. “And to make it better, I have to go up against Tasha for the job.”
“Tasha, as in your ex-girlfriend?”
“The one and only.”
“Does Rosie know this?”
“She knows about Tasha, not the promotion. I didn’t want her to worry about it. The only reason she knows about Tasha is because I was working late one night and lo and behold, she tried to surprise me by showing up in nothing but a trench coat. Tasha was working late as well and was all up in my business.”
“I can only imagine how well that went over.” Derk chuckled.
“Not the best time of my life.” I ran my hand over my face. “What the hell am I going to do?”
“I would say talk to Rosie, see if she’s really pregnant.”
That thought crossed my mind, but then again, if she was clueless to being pregnant, maybe it would be a good thing right now, given the insanity draining from her every second of the day. If she was pregnant, I needed to get past the campaign proposal first so I could make sure I was there if she needed me. This was going to stress her out. I wanted to take care of her to the best of my ability, not blow her off because I had to work late.
“Yeah, I’m going to wait.”
Derk shook his head. “Don’t you watch movies and shows? Never wait to discuss important things; it only blows up in your face down the road. Don’t be that guy.”
He was right, I didn’t want to bethatguy, but once again, this was real life and I knew what was best for us. Rosie would need me when she found out she was pregnant. The next two weeks were going to be full of meetings and refining my proposal . . . a lot of late nights at the office. If I could get through those weeks, then I’d devote myself to her after. I was also betting on the bachelorette party to keep her busy.
“I know, and I’ll bring it to her attention. I just have to get past this proposal first, then I can be at her beck and call. Please tell me you can keep this conversation between us.”
“I don’t keep things from Delaney.”
“Give me two fucking weeks; show some loyalty, man. I’m throwing you your boring bachelor party anyway . . . on a Sunday.”
“Delaney’s decision,” Derk added.
“I know, but help me out here. Give me two weeks. Your party is coming up; it will be perfect timing. I’ll talk to her after the parties, once everything dies down.”
Derk gave me a skeptical look. “I don’t know, man. I can see this going wrong in so many ways.”
“How?” I asked. “I can fake it. She doesn’t know that I know she’s pregnant. And it might not even be true. She might just be . . . I don’t know having some whacked-out hormone thing going on.”
“She’s pregnant.” Derk didn’t play games; he called it as he saw it.
“I know.” I squeezed my eyes shut in defeat. “She is so fucking pregnant.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Man Balls Mahki
ROSIE
“Get ready, up your tension, and . . . go,” the instructor screamed into her microphone. “Eat that hill, push through it, pump those legs and eat it.”
The only thing eating anything in this psychedelic room of spin torture was the bike seat, chomping away at poor, poor Virginia.
I’d met Delaney at one of her spin classes for the third time, and what I’d come to find out was people in these classes didn’t have any sort of private parts. I was tempted to take a peek at Delaney’s vagina to see it was still intact while in the locker room, because there was no way in hell her crotch was still intact.
The seats on these spin bikes were made for Barbie and Ken dolls, in the land of plastic where sexual organs didn’t exist.
Every time the instructor told us to speed up, I swear to Jesus Himself, the spin seat opened its jaws and began chomping at my vagina. Pedal after pedal, the digging of the seat against my area, drilling my underwear into my sensitive skin made me want to puke, to the point that I was numb for hours on end, unable to see if Virginia was still breathing.
It was painful.
