So Right (Boys of South Chapel #4)

1. Hunter

Chapter 1

Hunter

“Breathe.”

The low voice is sultry and comforting.

A firm knuckle of one finger smooths from the top of my spine all the way down to the small of my back. Soothing me. Grounding me. Sione .

Though he’s only touching me with a single digit, I’m engulfed in the solace of his presence. As if he’s wrapped me up in the warmest hug and cocooned me in his personal brand of sanctuary. He’s the reassuring lifeline I need as my brain works triple-time to follow Spence’s request and keep it together.

With a ragged exhale, I do as Sione says. I push all the air out of my lungs, then suck in a shuddering breath. Eyes closed, I allow myself one more deep breath to steel my heart. When I open my eyes, I school my expression, ready to face the alleged reality of this situation.

Both my mother and Dr. Ferguson are staring at me, shocked and slack-jawed.

They look the way I feel.

Spence just announced to all the men in my life, as well as to my sorry excuse for a mother and her husband, Greedy’s father, that I’m pregnant.

I’m not.

I can’t be.

My period ended a couple of days ago.

I haven’t ovulated. I know this because I track my cycles closely in order to manage my PMDD symptoms.

Even if I miraculously ovulated early without experiencing any of the typical symptoms, a fertilized egg could not have implanted in such a short amount of time.

None of this is real.

The logical part of my brain knows that.

Yet…

“Take another breath,” Sione reminds me, his hand now firmly resting on my low back.

I exhale in a rush, desperate to rid my lungs of the stale air I’ve been unknowingly holding.

It’s as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe. I’m a mess. I don’t think I can do this. If Spence honestly expects me to keep it together in light of his unexpected announcement, I fear he doesn’t know me at all.

Sione rubs small circles along the base of my spine, working to unwind the unease that has me in a chokehold.

Dr. Ferguson asks a question.

I don’t hear it.

Nor do I know who responds.

I can’t hear over the ringing in my ears, and the way my vision tunnels makes it hard to register what’s going on around me.

Pregnant.

Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.

I was pregnant before.

I conceived a baby with a man standing in this room.

Greedy .

If this “announcement” is hurting my heart, I can’t begin to imagine what it’s doing to his soul. A choked hiccup escapes me as tears force themselves from my eyes.

God dammit, Spence.

I suck in another lungful of air to clear my vision so I can turn. So I can find Greedy. So I can apologize and offer comfort. Provide whatever he might need to ease the intense burning sensation that must be plaguing him the way it pains me.

Before I convince my body to cooperate so I can focus on my first love, Dr. Ferguson steps between us, arms outstretched and grinning.

“Oh, Hunter.” He wraps me up in a fierce hug. “Congratulations, sweetheart.”

After a moment, he steps back and grasps my shoulders. Still smiling, he squeezes them in a reassuring, fatherly way that tugs at my heartstrings.

“I’m not sure if this was planned on your end, but your mother and I are here for you. We love you, and we’ll support you in any way we can.”

The sincerity of his words slams into me with so much force I sway on my feet.

He believes it. They’re both buying it. This is actually working?

I’m pregnant, and it’s working.

The irony of this moment adds another layer of heartache, like a thick, sticky salve being sloshed on top of damp clay.

Too much, too late.

This is a moment we never got to experience the first time, Greedy and me.

Greedy .

I tilt to one side, desperate to find him, but Dr. Ferguson thwarts my attempt again by enveloping me in another hug.

When he releases me, Spence is there in my field of vision.

His usual blue-gray orbs are the color of an iceberg. They’re absolutely frigid and devoid of emotion.

There isn’t an ounce of sympathy in his expression. No sorrow. No remorse for the havoc he just wreaked and the chaos that’ll ensue.

My vision goes red and my heart thumps deafeningly in my ears. How fucking dare he?

He told me not to overreact. He promised he had this under control. Does he have any idea what sort of pain he’s unnecessarily inflicted on me? On Greedy?

Fresh tears threaten to spill over as I watch him watch me. He assesses me in a clinical way. As if I’m a specimen.

For now, for the greater good, I’ll play along with his plan, but there’s no easing the hurt I feel.

There’s no stopping the way the wound that’s never truly healed now aches.

There’s no way to take away the agony surely coursing through the first boy I ever loved, who seems to always be caught off guard by Spence.

Or the pain another man in this room must be experiencing. A man I care for so deeply now. The man who held me through the tears and physical aches I suffered during my miscarriage years ago.

Pain, pain, pain.

All I feel—

All I am—

All I ever seem to cause is pain.

As I pull out of Dr. F’s arms and gingerly wipe at the moisture on my cheeks, I turn toward my mother.

Despite the hurt, the pain, the emotional damage spreading through this room like wildfire, I know damn well that Spence’s plan is designed to cut Magnolia out of the equation once and for all.

I steel my spine and face her head-on. This can’t be for nothing.

Spence’s plan will work. It has to. Some kind of reward has to come from all this pain.