The Right Kind of Wrong: A Brother's Best Friend Romance by Fabiola Francisco (open ebook .TXT) 📗

outside of the door for the pharmacist to open for me. I’m all about precaution, especially in a big city like Madrid, but damn if I don’t want to wait outside.

As soon as I’m inside, I ask for the pregnancy tests while the pharmacist purses his lips and gives me a once over. I roll my eyes exaggeratedly so he can see my reaction since apparently, we aren’t hiding our honest opinions about the other, and demand the test. While he walks through a back door, I wander around the small space. I don’t know why they don’t have these things displayed, so someone can just grab them and pay.

Instead, he returns with three different tests, explaining the difference between each one. I peek out the glass door to make sure my cab driver is still out there and point to the test he said shows the earliest results. Paying him, I run back into the taxi and head home, where my fate awaits me.

My body is trembling, emotions haywire at all the different possibilities my life could go. My furiously beating heart pounds like an angry lion banging against his cage. I blink back tears with deep, even breaths.

Once I’m back in my apartment, I pace back and forth in front of the bathroom, the hallway feeling like it’s closing in on me. Times like this, I wish I didn’t live alone in a foreign country. A silent sob rips through me, and I lean against the wall, dropping to the floor to sit. One test is in my hand, but I can’t draw up the courage to open the cap and pee on the taunting stick.

My fate will be sealed—two pink lines—or I’ll continue living the same way I have, this just being a scare along the way.

I jolt when my phone rings. Answering it, Noel’s worried face is front and center on my screen.

“What happened?” she rushes out. I hold up the test in silence. “What does it say?” Her eyebrows lift on her forehead.

“I haven’t taken it yet. I’m scared,” I admit. It’d be one thing if I knew for sure we used a condom, but honest to God, I can’t remember.

“I’ll talk you through it. Come on, I’m right here with you.” I nod, standing, and my legs tremble as I walk into the bathroom.

“Don’t look,” I warn, which is silly. Noel’s seen me pee hundreds of times.

“Puh-lease.” She rolls her eyes playfully, making me crack a smile.

“Here goes nothing.” I pull the cap from the test and place it where it needs to go as I tell myself to pee. After a few minutes, I’m covering the test again and washing my hands.

“Noel, what am I going to do if the test is positive?” I hiccup.

“Shhh… We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Is anything showing up?”

I bite down on my lips and shrug. I can’t look. Maybe because deep down, I know the probability is high. All types of worries and concerns hit me at once, like Miley Cyrus coming at me on that wrecking ball. Scary as hell.

When I look down at the test, resting on the sink, my hand covers my mouth, and tears flow freely from my eyes. Noel doesn’t need to ask what the result is by seeing my reaction, but she does anyway.

“Pregnant,” I whisper, holding the test up. I feel like I’m in a dream, floating around as if I’m witnessing someone else’s life.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Noel tries to console me, but I’m too far gone.

“What do I do?” I ask myself, but she replies.

“Make an appointment with your doctor tomorrow morning. You have a gynecologist there, right?” I nod. “Great, call the office and tell them you need to confirm a pregnancy. Whatever you need to do, so they will see you right away. After that, we’ll make a plan. I’m here for you, babes.” Noel offers a small smile, and how I wish she were here so I could cry on her shoulder.

I’ve got no one to lean on right now, and for the first time in two years, I feel truly lonely because I decided to take this job.

- - - - -

When I wake up, my body is tense, and my muscles are tight. I stretch my arms over my head and yawn as I come to. I feel out of it, dazed, as I fully wake. My throat is dry from crying myself to sleep last night, and the memory of a positive pregnancy test slaps me awake. Forget caffeine; the reality that you’re carrying your brother’s best friend’s baby from a one-night-stand is enough to make your heart rate higher than a caffeine overdose. Not to mention that I’ve drank alcohol and haven’t exactly been eating the best.

I climb out of bed and to the bathroom, where the box with the second pregnancy test mocks me. Grabbing it, I rip the wrapper open and take the second test. I once read that the most effective time to take a pregnancy test is first thing in the morning, so I might as well try. For all I know, last night’s positive was a false alarm.

I jump in the shower while I wait for the test to do its thing, skipping washing my hair and trusting dry shampoo to do the job for today. It’s Friday, so that’s acceptable, right? Besides, if I really am going to have a kid, I better get used to dry shampoo, quick showers, and coffee on the go. Who am I kidding? I don’t need a child in order for me to have my coffee on the go.

With a stammering heart, I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel before looking at the test on the sink. It’s like a replay from last night—two pink lines, bright and obvious, confirming what I already knew. My hand instinctively goes to my stomach as my throat closes up, trapping every single