Jodie gripped the edge of the bathroom counter and forced herself to breathe through the surge of nausea. Fucking hell. So much for keeping morning sickness at bay. She counted up to ten, then back down again, and focused on keeping her breakfast in her stomach.

When she had the discomfort under control, she splashed cold water on her face. Her reflection stared back from the mirror, pale and dripping wet. She couldn’t hide this forever. She needed to find a new place to live, figure out how she was going to pay for this child, tell her parents—

A knock interrupted her thoughts before they spiraled into despair.

She scrubbed her skin dry and went to answer. When she saw Logan standing on the stoop, her stomach dropped into her shoes. Yesterday surged back in full technicolor, to taunt her, carrying every smell, sound, and touch in a single wave.

“Are you all right? You look pale.” He studied her, brows furrowed.

I’m two months pregnant, and you’re acting like nothing happened between us. “Never been better.”

“You’re lying.” He cupped her cheek and traced a thumb along the skin.

Heat raced over her, and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from sighing. “Are you here for a reason?” She pulled away and sought out the nearest seat—a spot in the middle of the sofa.

“Happy to see you, too. Is Noah around?”

“Nope. He’s almost always in class this time of day.”

“Right. Don’t know how I could have forgotten.” Logan took a seat next to her, and his thigh settled against hers. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine, God damn it.” The words came out with a sharper edge than she intended, and she cringed. “Not feeling well. It’ll pass.” In about seven months, when it’s replaced with a new, and much more adorable and louder, stress.

“Can I get you anything?”

Why was he doing this considerate, sweet thing? Was it because they screwed? Or because he’s not a bad guy most of the time.

“I’m fine.” She forced ice into her voice, to silence the argument in her head. “And why do you care?”

“You’re my si—friend?”

Great. That helped. “Stepsister.” She bit off the word. “And maybe you missed it, but usually, you’re the bane of my existence. You made my life miserable in high school, and the impact you have on me isn’t much better now.” She made the mistake of looking at him as she finished speaking.

Logan was scowling, but a shadow of hurt lingered in his eyes. His expression went blank, and he turned away. “Sorry for giving a shit.” His tone was flat and devoid of emotion. “I’ll let you get back to pretending you can take on the world yourself.”

“Wait.” She grabbed his arm before he could stand. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course. Anything.” Kindness replaced annoyance in his voice.

“I’m pregnant.” She blurted the words. She’d meant to lead up to it or at least soften the blow a little. So much for that idea.

He raised his brows. “I may not know what I’m talking about, being a medical student and all, but I’m positive a day is too soon to tell.”

Of course he’d assume that was what she meant. “It’s not yours.”

“I figured. But I wasn’t sure you were aware.” Kindness mixed with his sarcasm. That didn’t mean he was the right person to spill her guts to.

She pursed her lips. “Forget it. Go find Noah. Forget I ever said anything. This conversation never happened.” It was a mistake to think she could confide in him.

“I’m sorry. I’m listening.” His eyes softened and his posture relaxed.

She stood and crossed her arms. “I said, forget it. I was joking. I didn’t mean it. Whatever you have to believe, to put it out of your mind.

“Sit down.” He tugged her back to the couch. “Whose is it?”

She was grateful he didn’t ask her if she knew. Having his ear didn’t mean she was ready to talk about that detail. She clamped her jaw shut.

“Jodie.” He put a few inches between them and turned to face her. “Does anyone else know? Have you told your mom?”

She shook her head. “Noah knows.” Fuck. She didn’t mean to let that slip.

“Why would you tell— Oh.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t want me to keep it.”

Logan shrugged. “Maybe he’s got a point. I mean… you’ve got big plans for the future. This will to throw a wrench in them.”

“It’s a who, not a this. And I don’t remember asking your opinion.” She couldn’t help the irritation that spilled inside.

He frowned. “I’m just saying... Look, if you need someone to go with you to the clinic—to drive you home after. I’m here for you.”

“You know what? Get the fuck out. You don’t have to care. This wasn’t your decision or mistake. That also means you have zero say in the matter, and you could show a touch of respect when it comes to my opinion.” She might be projecting her fears a little, but this was how she pictured this conversation going with everyone moving forward. Despite the bumps with Logan, she’d always thought he was supportive. He helped her get to Stanford, after all. But hearing him brush her decision aside, as if she didn’t know what she wanted, it hurt more than she expected.

“I didn’t mean—”

“You meant exactly that. Get out.”

When he was gone, she collapsed on the couch, hugging herself to keep from shaking apart. If things went this poorly with Logan, it was going to suck balls, telling their parents.

And who the hell did he think he was?

She didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry. Maybe a little of both. She didn’t ever remember feeling so alone.