Page 73 of Hired By My Rich Baby Daddy

“I don’t know.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “My stomach is really upset, sis.”

She ain’t even get to say nothing else before I had to turn right back around and throw up again.

Nourah was on me quick, gathering my hair up in her hands and holding it back.

“I got you. I got you,” she kept saying.

When I was done, I went back to the sink and washed my hands real good. Then, I rinsed my mouth out and dug through my purse for a hair tie. I twisted my hair into a messy bun to keep it out of my face for the rest of the night, even though I already knew the rest of the night wasn’t happening for me.

“I think I need to go home and lay down.”

“Aww, I hate you don’t feel good, Ree Ree, but yes, please…go get some rest, and I’ll check on you a little later,” Nourah said, still watching me close.

“Okay.” I sighed.

We were about to head out the bathroom when Nourah stopped short and grabbed my arm.

“Wait,” she said. “When was your last period?”

I stood there and really had to think on it, and the longer I thought, the wider my eyes got.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Am I…pregnant?”

“Girl… you might be,” Nourah said. “But I thought you and Ozy used a condom.”

“We did, but…” I said, my mind racing. “It had to have popped. Oh my God! Wait… no. Maybe it’s a stomach bug, or… I…” I was too flustered to even finish my sentence.

“Grab a test on the way home, just to be sure,” Nourah suggested.

That’s when it hit me all the way. Everything at once. I felt my eyes fill up before I could stop it.

“What’s wrong?” Nourah asked.

“I reached out to Ozy on social media, telling him I was sorry for his loss and that I was thinking about him. My messages were never seen or responded to and…” I sniffled, my voice cracking. “I even tried sending a message through Ky’s email, and still nothing. So… what if I am?”

That weekend meant so much to me and left me confused at the same time.

We never got to exchange numbers because we were staying in the same hotel and scheduled to be wherever Ozy was each day. Exchanging numbers honestly never even crossed my mind. Then, when he ran out the room that night, I swear I never thought it’d be the last time we’d talk or see each other.

I low-key felt stupid then and even more stupid now.

Like, yeah, he was going through something, and I was trying to be patient. It had been almost six weeks, but not one reply after giving me the best sex of my life?

“Damn,” Nourah said quietly. “You right. I forgot all about that. You know I even tried finding PB on social media, but I couldn’t find him nowhere. He wasn’t even tagged in no pictures with Ozy. He got my number that night at the liquor store, but he never got to text me. Then when the whole Waffle House situation happened, he told me to let him know when his driver got me home safe, and I literally couldn’t without his number.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t help much in this situation.”

I shook my head, wiping under my eyes, trying not to mess up what little makeup I had left.

“It’s okay.”

I thought back to how the third day of the Weekend with Ozy contest had been canceled, and that left me assed out with no way to contact him.

“I just…” I cried. “I don’t even know how I’m supposed to find him. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Nourah pulled me into a hug right there in the middle of that bathroom.

“Everything’s gonna work out how it’s supposed to. I know that’s easier said than done, but I really believe that,” she said into my shoulder. “I promise.”

Just then, the bathroom door pushed open again, and Veronica came strolling in, singing the lyrics to “Spend Dat” until she caught the two of us standing there.