Page 28 of Wild Devotion
“Okay?” She blinked, clearly expecting more of a fight.
“For now.” I held her stare. “But I’m walking you to class.”
I was out of the truck before she could argue, rounding the hood to open her door.
She slid out, and those big doe eyes flicked up to mine before darting away. “I do feel a little lonely walking around here on my own sometimes. It’s nice to have company.”
One tiny admission. One small crack in her defenses. And every rational thought I’d had about keeping my distance evaporated.
Our footsteps fell into rhythm on the pavement, and I ignored the urge to sling my arm over her shoulders. But I let myself imagine, just for a second, that this meant something more.
Because friends just wasn’t going to fucking cut it.
Chapter Eleven
Zadie
According to the obstetrician Chantel had referred me to, I was eight weeks pregnant. Eight weeks. Even though I’d only known for two of them.
Apparently, they started counting from before you got pregnant. Super confusing, if you asked me.
But I wasn’t a doctor, and since I hadn’t been spending much time with my best friend who was, there hadn’t been a chance to ask these types of questions.
Today we were going shopping, even though all I really wanted to do was eat. When I wasn’t busy throwing up, I was ravenous.
I’d been told this was normal and that the sickness should die down in the next couple of weeks. Although, this information came from my mother, and I didn’t exactly consider her the most reliable source for any kind of parenting advice.
Not even pre-parenting advice.
I found Chantel in the kitchen, still in her nightgown, scrolling through her phone like we didn’t have somewhere to be.
“Hey, is it time to go already?” She didn’t look up.
“Yeah. You’re not ready.”
“It’ll only take me a minute.” She pressed her phone flat against her chest as I got closer and disappeared upstairs.
What was going on with her? She’d been flaking on me more and more. Going quiet every time I tried to have a real conversation. Forgetting to drive me to campus. Not mentioning that her cousin was moving into the spare room across from mine.
A man moving into the house shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was her house, he was her cousin, and she had every right to let whoever she wanted live here.
Except Caleb wasn’t just any man.
He was seven years younger, ridiculously attractive, and I’d already crossed a line with him I couldn’t uncross. From the moment he’d kissed me—okay fine, from the moment I’d drunkenly kissed him—he’d been living rent-free in my head.
And Chantel knew it.
“Okay, ready.” She reappeared wearing blue jeans and a light knit sweater.
I stared. Chantel did not wear jeans. When she wasn’t in scrubs, she gravitated toward dresses and skirts. Occasionally a fancy pair of pants, but I had literally never seen her in denim. I didn’t even know she owned a pair.
“You’re going like that?”
“I thought maybe we’d skip the shopping.” She tugged at her waistband like she wasn’t sure the jeans fit. “You don’t really need maternity stuff yet, do you?”
“Chantel.” I darted a look around the room, even though I knew we were alone. The walls in this house weren’t thick enough for the secret I was keeping.
“Relax, he left an hour ago.” She rolled her eyes. “I was thinking we could go for a walk instead. The weather’s still nice, and I’m not getting nearly enough exercise.”
