“Wait . . . like . . . you like him, like him?”
“Yeah. And I shouldn’t. God, he’s been so mercurial. So up and down and straight-up assholish at times, but he also has this giving heart I can’t seem to ignore.”
“Oh, the same heart I kept telling you about?”
“This is your fault. You made me look at him differently.”
“This is not my fault. You’re the one who set out to find a rich husband.”
“I didn’t think it was actually going to happen,” I hiss into the phone. “Stuff like that doesn’t just work out for me.”
“Okay, so you like him, you put his penis in your mouth—what now?”
“I have no clue. I don’t know how to act around him. Not after what happened over the weekend, and there’s one thing I didn’t tell you about.”
“Uh, what else could there be? You dry-humped him on the roof.” She’s silent for a second and then says, “Let me guess—he has a big penis?”
“As if God couldn’t stop with the good looks, he had to bless him with the penis of all penises.”
“Figured as much. A man with such a stern gaze doesn’t have a floppy noodle between his legs.”
“More like a steel rod made to build skyscrapers.”
Kelsey lets out a laugh. “The imagery on that . . . too much.”
“But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“Obviously,” Kelsey says. “So, what is it?”
Feeling slightly embarrassed, I turn so my side is pressed up against the brick. For some reason, the position makes me feel less exposed. “He, uh . . . he didn’t kiss me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, during all of our escapades, he never once kissed me.”
“Oh . . .”
“Oh?” I repeat. “That doesn’t sound like a good ‘oh,’ that sounds like a sympathetic ‘oh.’”
“Not once?”
My stomach twists, and once again, my emotions roar with shame. “No,” I say solemnly. “What do you think that means?” When Kelsey doesn’t answer right away, I add, “That he’s Vivian-ing me, right?”
“Vivi-what?”
“You know, how in Pretty Woman, Vivian doesn’t want to kiss Edward, or any of her clients, because it’s too intimate? I feel as though that’s what Huxley is doing.”
“Oh, I get it.” Kelsey pauses, and I swear it feels as though I’m waiting on pins and needles for her response. “I don’t know, Lottie.”
“That’s not what you were supposed to say,” I nearly screech into the phone. “You were supposed to say ‘no, that’s not it at all’。”
“I’m not going to lie to you.”
“God.” I press my hand to my forehead. “Look at me. I like a guy who’s Vivian-ing me. How did this happen?”
“Stupid luck?”
“You are not helpful today. I’m really freaked out, Kels. My stomach is twisted in knots, I—ugh . . .”
“What?” Kelsey asks.
A car pulls up on the street and I recognize it immediately. “Ellie is here. I should go.”
“Okay, I’m sorry that I’m not being a helpful sister. Honestly, all I can think to say is maybe just see where it goes.”
“But that complicates things.”
“Hate to tell you, sis, but things are already complicated. Might as well see if he’s worth your time.”
“You’re confusing me.”
“Then I’m doing my job. Love you, Lottie.”
Groaning, I say, “Love you, Kelsey.”
I hang up the phone just as Ellie pops out of the car and waves at me frantically.
She’s a little . . . much . . . for me, but she is incredibly nice. I do feel bad about deceiving her. Why couldn’t I just have been the fake fiancée? Why do I have to be fake pregnant too?
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” Ellie says as she comes up to me and gives me a huge hug. “Are you excited?”
“Uh, you know, this might be a little much for me,” I say honestly. “But I’m more than happy to help you.”
“Oh, are you uncomfortable?” she asks.
“Overwhelmed with everything.” There, not a lie. I really am overwhelmed, especially with Huxley.
“I can understand that completely.” She takes my hand. “But don’t worry, I’ve got you.” She charges us into the store and all the way to the back, where there’s a designated area of breast pumps. Fake breasts of all shapes and sizes and colors line the wall—good for them—and below them are these weird suction-cup things with bottles at the end.