Josh stared at me as if I’d announced I was going to give birth to a three-headed monster. His three-headed monster.

Alrighty.

Guess that answered my question.

“Are you sure it’s mine?” he asked.

Guys, let me do you a favor right here and give you two hints for if you’re ever caught in the same situation.

One—girls are a hormonal mess when pregnant. We’re fragile. Our emotions are fragile.

But we can still kick major arse.

Two—never ask us if we’re sure you’re the father. I mean, if we have the reputation of enjoying sex with numerous partners during the time we had sex with you, then by all means question the child’s paternity.

But other times…

“Given you’re the only man I’ve slept with in ten months—yes, you’re the father. Or maybe it really was an immaculate conception. If that’s the case, Ryan Reynolds might be the father.”

In case you were wondering, I was wearing stilettos. The perfect arse-kicking accessory.

Although at the moment, I was torn between kicking his arse or bailing—and introducing Junior to the joys of ice cream.

A big tub of ice cream.

With french fries.

“But you can’t be pregnant,” he said, frowning. “We used condoms.”

Denial was a bitch. I should know.

Girls, let me take this opportunity to remind you, once again, to make sure your birth control hasn’t expired. I still had no idea if the protection malfunction was due to human error or due to the expiry date being past due.

Either way, it was clear how this would all play out.

Junior and I would be going it alone.

But that was okay. I could do this. I was a smart and independent woman. Go me!

“Condoms aren’t one hundred percent fail-safe. It says so on the box.” My hand instinctively went to my stomach, maybe to keep Junior from hearing this conversation. No need for him or her to feel unloved from the get-go.

“Sorry about that,” Maria’s exotic accent said as she re-joined us, clearly failing to notice the tension that had sprung up between Josh and me. “Are you ready, Josh?” She held up a store bag, indicating she had already paid for her book.

Stepping away from the pair, I said, “It was nice meeting you, Maria.” Were you impressed at how fast I could run in stilettos?

Josh didn’t come after me. And no, that didn’t surprise me. There was a better chance of Ryan Reynolds entering the store to declare his undying love for me than there was of Josh chasing me down.

As I passed the display of DVDs on the way to the cashier, one caught my attention. A pregnant woman in exercise gear was on the cover, glowing and looking relaxed and happy. Yoga for pregnancy. Yoga was supposed to reduce stress. If there was one thing I needed more than anything else right now, it was stress relief. Ice cream and fries only went so far.

I grabbed the DVD and continued to the cashier.

But before I got that far, a warm hand grab my arm. From the way my body responded to his touch, I didn’t even have to look to know it was Josh.

“You can’t tell me you’re pregnant with my child, Holly, and then run off.” His tone wasn’t exactly pissed, but it wasn’t happy either.

“I have a meeting I’ll be late for if I don’t get going.” A very important meeting—involving a bowl full of comfort food. “We can talk later.” Once the shock had worn off for both of us. Although I suspected Junior would be in college before that happened for Josh.

Fortunately for me, fate decided to throw me a bone, and Josh’s cell phone indicated an incoming call.

He checked the screen. “Shit, I have to take this.”

Sounded good to me. I hightailed it to the cashier and quickly paid for my purchases. Josh was still on his phone when I slipped out of the store.

A short time later, my purchases, Junior, and I returned to my two-bedroom apartment. I put the books, bear, and DVD on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen for a glass of milk.

My cell phone played Kelsey’s song. For a second, I allowed my crazy hormonal thoughts to imagine Josh reacting to the pregnancy news the same way Trent would if Kelsey was pregnant. I had no doubts whatsoever that Trent would do cartwheels down the hallway.

And because my stupid hormonal thoughts weren’t enough, stupid hormonal tears joined the pity party for two.

Needing to hear Kelsey’s sweet and friendly voice, I accepted the call. “G’day.”

“How did it go?” she asked, and I knew instantly what she was talking about.

“I’m one-hundred-percent-sperm-meets-egg-and-wham-your-life-is-forever-changed pregnant.” I opened the fridge door and removed the container of skim milk.

“How are you feeling?”

“You mean in general or about the news?”

“Both.”

“Well, my breasts are achy and swollen. I’m still dealing with nausea, but my doctor said that should go away soon. And I’m tired. But I did get to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”

“You did? And?”

I got a glass from the cupboard. “And…I’m definitely keeping Junior.”

There might be have been a muffled shriek of excitement from Kelsey’s end, but I couldn’t be sure.

“You want some company?” she asked. “I could come over and we can watch a movie. Your choice?”

Did I wish to talk about what happened in the bookstore? Hell, no. Did I want to be alone to dwell on it? Double hell no—with an order of fries.

“That would be great,” I said.

While I waited for Kelsey, I flipped through a pregnancy book. I was just reading about how I could expect my sex drive to rev up over the next few months (great news given that I was single) when the doorbell rang. I answered it and let Kelsey in.

“So what will it be?” she asked, holding up two containers of ice cream.

There was a reason I loved Kelsey. It was like she could read my mind.

Except for the part about the fries. But that was okay—no one was perfect.

After searching through Netflix, we settled on an animated movie that looked promising. First—it wouldn’t have swearing in it, so it was Junior friendly. Second—there was absolutely no romance. Bigger bonus.

We settled down to watch it. Not once did Kelsey push me to talk about the unexpected pregnancy. Nor did she try to pry the father’s name from me. She knew I would tell her when I was ready…if I was ever ready.

You see, here lay the dilemma. Josh was Trent’s best friend. Kelsey was my best friend. Trent was the love of Kelsey’s life. Done the math yet? Kelsey would be the one caught in the middle when it came to her loyalties—and I didn’t want to put her in that position.

So, zipped lips it was.

Halfway through the movie, I had to pee. Badly. “You’d think for something so small,” I said, referring to Junior, “I wouldn’t need to go that often.” We were both familiar with Erin’s frequent trips to the loo.

Kelsey laughed. “You might as well get used to it.”

While doing my business in the bathroom, I thought I heard the buzzer for the front entrance to the apartment building, but I wasn’t positive. Since I wasn’t expecting anyone, I refused to worry about it. Worrying wasn’t good for Junior. Emptying my bladder was infinitely more important.

But once I stepped back into the living room, my resolve stumbled at the sight of the blond hockey player standing there. Josh.

“He said it’s important,” Kelsey said, looking between us.

Let’s take a moment to recap what Kelsey didn’t know. One—she didn’t know that Josh had already been in my apartment previously. Two—she didn’t know that Josh and I had had sex. And three—she and Trent didn’t know that Josh had come to Australia with me. He and I had figured it was better that way.

No, this wasn’t awkward at all.

Then a sudden understanding swept onto her face.

And the awkwardness factor tripled.

Fuck me dead!

“I should probably go,” she said, “unless you want me to stay.” The last part was directed at me.

“No, it’s okay.”

I walked her to the door and she hugged me. “Do you need me to get Trent to whip his ass?” she asked. “You know he would do it in a heartbeat.”

Despite the nervousness wrapping around me like a Maypole dancer, I chuckled. “Arse whipping won’t be necessary.”

I closed the door after her and stood there for a moment, my back against it, eyes shut.

Was it really too much to hope for that when I reopened them, everything would be back to how it was three months ago? That I wasn’t pregnant and wouldn’t have to face Josh about our current dilemma?

With a hard breath, I pushed away from the door and joined Josh in the living room. He was skimming through the What To Expect book. Naturally, my heart took this the wrong way and squeezed hopefully. I blamed the pregnancy hormones for that. They really were annoying little buggers.

Josh glanced up. I knew I should say something, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. If this situation was covered in What To Expect, I hadn’t found that chapter yet. “Just so you know, I hadn’t planned to get pregnant. I just wanted a good fuck to help me deal with Nanna’s death.” And to help me deal with my mum.

Wasn’t irony just a bitch?

“I know it was an accident. And I’m pretty sure if I remember my biology class correctly, it takes two to make a baby. You didn’t take advantage of me, Holly. I was as much a willing participant as you were.”

Relief rushed through me that at least he didn’t blame me.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

“I’m keeping the baby.” The words came out easier than expected.

“I kinda figured as much.” His mouth slid into my favorite, teasing smirk. “The pregnancy and baby books gave it away.”

I smiled, the movement small, but then the smile faded as I stared at the face of my new reality. And no, I didn’t mean Josh. “I know you don’t want children. Your hockey career comes first. So if you wish to walk away from this, I’m all right with that. I’m giving you the choice.”

If my life were a romance novel, this was the part where Josh would sweep me off my feet and tell me he could never walk away. That he wanted his baby and me to be a major part of his life—and always would.

Of course, if my life were more like a Stephen King novel, a scary clown would crash through the door and drag Josh down a sewage pipe—leaving Junior without a father.

At least that would be easier to explain to our child. It wasn’t that your daddy didn’t want to be your daddy. It was totally the clown’s fault.

If that didn’t cause a fear of clowns, I didn’t know what would.

Josh frowned. “News flash, Holly. I’m not my fucking father. Yes, neither of us planned this, but I’m not walking away. I plan to be there for you and the baby as much as you’ll let me.”

Okay, not quite the first option—but at least the scary clown kept away.

Did you notice what he didn’t say?

That’s right. There was no romantic gesture. Our goal was to keep our relationship uncomplicated. Well, as uncomplicated as you could get when you were having a baby.

He picked up the yoga DVD. “What’s this?”

“Yoga for pregnancy. I thought it might be beneficial for the baby.”

Josh glanced around the room. “How ’bout we start now?”

“Start what?”

“Yoga. The Rock goalies swear by it, and you’ve seen how fucking flexible they are. It wouldn’t hurt me to do it with you.” He moved the coffee table against the wall to give us some more space.

“But we don’t have any yoga mats.”

“I’m sure we can go without this time. I’ll pick some up before tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If there’s one thing training for hockey has taught me, it’s important to schedule your workouts.”

Now it was my turn to smirk. Josh wasn’t known for scheduling anything. He was a spur-of-the-moment type guy.

The only exception? Hockey—naturally.

“All right,” I said. “Yoga it is.”

The ache between my legs sat up and rejoiced—having been on a hiatus for the past month. I blamed the morning sickness and exhaustion for that.

Not to be a party pooper, I reminded it, but we’re doing yoga, not having sex. Clearly it had forgotten my no-sex rule when it came to Josh.

The ache rubbed its hands together and murmured, “We’ll see about that.”

Oh, boy.