Two months later, I entered the busy cafe and scanned the tables. Erin and Kelsey were already sitting at our favorite table in the corner. Twice a month we met up for lunch on the weekend—our girl bonding time.

Our time away from the men in our lives.

Which wasn’t too hard for me to do since there was no man in my life.

What happened to Josh?

I’d been so busy with work lately, I hadn’t had time to join him, Kelsey, and Trent for drinks since returning from Australia. And those few times I did manage to make it, Josh had been away. So other than texting each other like we had before and the occasional phone call, we hadn’t seen each other since returning home.

Was I still hiding from him? You’d better believe it—thanks to his goddamn sex-on-a-stick pheromones.

Those same pheromones that my body reacted to whenever my thoughts drifted to Josh’s and my time in Australia. Apparently, he didn’t even need to be near me for it to happen—his pheromones were that powerful.

Our fake engagement? No, I hadn’t gotten around to telling my family the sad truth: Josh and I had broken up. I figured I had plenty of time before I had to worry about it.

As I walked over to Kelsey and Erin, a good-looking man in shorts and a San Francisco Rock T-shirt approached me, a friendly smile on his face. And my mind instantly went back to Josh. Ugh!

“Hey, Holly. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

My mind quickly rifled through the Rolodex in my head for his name. He looked vaguely familiar.

And then it hit me.

“Oh, hi, Brad.” He and I had dated a few times in university. I was working on my MBA and he was working on his master’s degree in biomedical engineering. “What are you doing here?” I gave him a quick hug. We had ended on friendly terms when he moved away for a job offer.

“I heard they make the best coffee around.” He winked at me.

I laughed. “I meant San Francisco. Are you visiting?”

“No—moved back last month. I accepted a great job offer I couldn’t refuse.” His gaze slid down to my left hand. “You know, if you’re not seeing anyone, we should go out for dinner sometime and catch up on old times.”

“I’d like that.” I fished through my purse and handed him my business card, pretending the ache between my legs hadn’t booed in frustration. It was unfairly comparing the one time I’d had sex with Brad against the incredible sex with Josh…and Josh was coming out the clear winner.

“Who was that?” Kelsey asked when I sat at our table a minute later. “He’s hot,” said the woman who was dating the hottest man on the planet—when you didn’t count Josh.

I explained how I knew Brad.

“So you’re going to go out with him?”

“I figured I might as well. It’s just one date.” I said, as a wave of nausea hit. Where was the waitress? I just needed something to eat and then I’d be fine. This wasn’t the first time it had happened in the past few days.

Maybe I had some weird version of the stomach flu?

As if reading my mind, a girl in her early twenties approached our table. “Are you ready to order now?”

You definitely want the fries, the angel on my shoulder not-so-helpfully pointed out as I glanced over the menu. The devil on the other shoulder snickered knowingly.

After Erin and Kelsey ordered, I blurted, “I’ll have the California rolls and a side order of fries.”

Erin and Kelsey stared at me as if I had ordered steak fresh from a fire-breathing dragon. Unlike them, the waitress didn’t even bat a mascara-coated eyelash.

“Since when do you eat fries?” Erin asked as the waitress walked away.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just craving them.” In my mind, I glared at the angel, who was acting all innocent, while the devil cracked up laughing.

“You’re. Craving. Fries?”

Wasn’t that what I just said?

“Why?” I asked. “Is that a problem?” Maybe a sign of some sort of terminal disease I had contracted?

“Do you crave them often?” Erin asked.

“Not really. This is probably the first time.” At least that was what I tried to say. And I would have succeeded if I hadn’t yawned while saying it.

I really needed to get more sleep.

This wasn’t the first time in the past few weeks that I’d wanted to crawl under the table (or desk) and steal a nap. Which was odd. I wasn’t the napping type.

“Are you not getting enough sleep?” Erin asked.

I picked up my glass of water and sipped the cold liquid. “I thought I was, but apparently not.”

“How are your breasts feeling?”

Now if only she hadn’t asked me that while I was taking another sip of water. It went down the wrong way and I started coughing.

Kelsey laughed. “What kind of question is that?”

Erin ignored her. “Is there a chance you could be pregnant?”

Now it was my turn to laugh…until I was no longer laughing. I just stared at Erin, the blood in my head pooling somewhere near my feet.

I couldn’t be pregnant, right? Josh and I had used condoms. Or at least I remembered using one the first time. And I was pretty sure we had used them the other times too that first night. We weren’t that drunk. Plus we had definitely used them in Australia.

But what about the expiry date on the box in my bedroom? a pesky voice asked as I mentally counted the days since my last period. Turns out the condoms had been more than seven months older than the date marked on the box when Josh and I used them, which was why I had long since tossed them.

The problem was, I had no idea when it was. Normally I was super-organized, but writing down the first day of my period was never on my monthly to-do list. Apparently, it should have been.

My hesitation was all Erin needed. “Ohmigod, you really could be pregnant?”

“No…I can’t be pregnant. I mean, I’m positive I’m not,” I fumbled out, but the last thing I sounded was positive. “I’ve been stressed at work. That’s all.”

Relief rushed through my body. That must be it. Stress was known to wreck havoc on a woman’s menstrual cycle. That was why I was late.

Why my boobs tingled.

And why the waistband of my clothes felt a little tighter than normal.

I wasn’t late—I was getting my period.

The voice in my head cracked up—which was hardly very comforting.

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Erin said. “As soon as we’re finished lunch, we’ll go to the drug store and pick up a pregnancy test.”

“Sure. Okay.” Might as well…for their reassurance that I wasn’t pregnant. Which I wasn’t. At. All.

Kelsey slid me a sympathetic glance.

In an attempt to distract me, they talked about an ad campaign Erin was working on for a very difficult client. “The jerk even insinuated that I wasn’t allowed to take any maternity leave. I’m supposed to be there at his beck and call.”

“What did you do?” Kelsey asked.

Erin snorted a laugh. “I pretty much told him where to shove his ‘beck and call.’ ”

The baby at the next table began crying. And wow, for someone so small, the kid had quite the set of lungs.

“No! I want!” the toddler at a nearby table screamed.

Her mother attempted to placate her while the other mother tried to soothe the crying baby—and a sinking feeling lodged itself in my stomach.

God, please tell me I’m not pregnant.

But since I didn’t believe in God, he chose to keep quiet.

Or possibility #2. He existed and was currently laughing so hard at my potential predicament that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

Our food arrived, and Erin and Kelsey did their best not to talk about babies. After we finished eating, we walked across the street to the drug store.

“Remind me next time to avoid being pregnant during the summer,” Erin said, looking like she was ready to melt into a puddle. It wasn’t as if San Francisco was even that hot during July. Nothing like L.A. or Santa Monica.

Don’t worry, the voice in my head said, if you’re pregnant, it won’t be a summer baby. If you’re going to accidentally get pregnant, this is the best time to do it.

That was the voice in my head for you—always the logical one.

Too bad it hadn’t spoken up the first night Josh and I had sex. That would’ve been helpful—then the other times wouldn’t have happened either.

And I wouldn’t be left thinking about sex all the time. With him.

We located the family-planning aisle and on instinct, I grabbed a box of condoms. If I wasn’t pregnant, then I’d be needing these. At some point. Going on the pill would be a good idea too. Just to be extra cautious.

Erin clearly was a pro when it came to pregnancy tests. Whereas I was as lost as a guy in the feminine hygiene aisle, she knew exactly what I needed. She grabbed a box from the shelf and handed it to me.

Or at least tried to.

If I didn’t take it, I wouldn’t be pregnant.

Yeah, I didn’t think it worked that way either, but it was worth a try.

Erin wasn’t so easily fooled. “Not taking the test isn’t going to change anything.”

I let out a slow breath and nodded. “You’re right.” But while I might have agreed with her, I still couldn’t will myself to take the box.

It was Kelsey who finally did. “Don’t worry, Holly. We’re here for you. No matter what the test says and no matter what you decide, we’re not going anywhere.”

My lips moved into a smile. Not a very convincing one, but a smile no less. “Thanks.”

I took the box from her and marched to the cashier. It was just a test. I’d taken tons of tests in university and during my MBA, and I had survived.

Not quite the same thing, the voice pointed out, laughing. But keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.

I inwardly glared at the stupid voice.

I paid for the pregnancy test and condoms and hightailed it from the store.

“So now what?” I asked Erin and Kelsey as we stood on the sidewalk. Do I make a sacrifice to the goddess of pregnancy tests so that I fail this one…in a good way?

I’d be perfectly willing to sacrifice Josh if it meant I wasn’t pregnant.

And given he didn’t want any children either, I was positive he’d be more than happy to sacrifice himself.

“You take the test,” Erin said. “Don’t worry. It’s really easy to do.”

Sure, easy for her to say.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Kelsey asked, her voice a blanket of sympathy. Now, if only I could pull it over my head like when I had been little and scared of the boogeyman. Nanna had given me a special blanket that she’d sworn kept all scary monsters away.

At my nod, they followed me back to my apartment building in Kelsey’s car. While I didn’t wish to find out the truth on my own, I was happy to have a few minutes to myself first to figure out what I would do if the test was positive.

I mean, other than cry.

Although right now, that sounded like a really good option.

By the time I parked my car behind my building, I didn’t have an answer.

And I still didn’t have an answer when Kelsey and Erin joined me a few minutes later on the front steps.

Have you ever visited a foreign country? When you first arrive, you’re faced with the dilemma of understanding the language—even if it’s the same one as your native tongue. If I asked you where I could find a flat, would you know I meant apartment? Between the different foreign customs, the different signs, the different way of life, the different money, and the differences in the language, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and a little bit lost.

That was exactly how I felt once inside my apartment. I had no idea what to do next. I turned to Erin. “What now?”

She smiled softly, her eyes sympathetic. “Unless things have changed since I conceived this one”—she rubbed her stomach like it was a genie in a lamp—“you pee on the stick.”

Sounded like good advice. So why was my body refusing to walk toward the bathroom? Hello, legs? You were working a few minutes ago.

I let out a hard breath. “Okay, I can do this.” I must have been convincing enough for my legs. They began moving, with my heart rate racing us to the bathroom.

Inside, I shut the door behind me but didn’t bother to lock it. I opened the box and removed the instructions. My hands shook, making it tough to read the words. But what was there to read? I peed on the stick. It wasn’t rocket science.

A minute later, I stood at the sink, the peed-on pregnancy test doing its thing on the counter. I washed my hands and bailed from the room faster than an emu being chased by a truck—the test abandoned next to the sink.

And, well, you know the rest. The three of us entered the bathroom. Kelsey picked up the test and gave me the news—sympathy and awe and happiness all shining back at me. “You’re going to have a baby.”

But pregnancy tests weren’t a hundred percent accurate. It said so on the box. They were ninety-nine percent accurate. Which meant one out of a hundred times they were wrong.

So statistically speaking, this could be that one screwed up test—the test that gave the wrong answer.

“It’s wrong,” I said, sounding like a pouting toddler.

“I can get you another one,” Kelsey offered.

“That’s okay. I’m positive I’m not pregnant.”

My life as I knew it wasn’t over.

Funny how irony always got the last laugh.