Baking and Babies (Chocoholics #3)(29)

“Believe me, it looks much worse than it actually is,” she explains. “It’s really no different than having sex, maybe just a tad more uncomfortable, but it won’t hurt.”

I’m willing to do a lot of things for a KitchenAid mixer and money for an apartment, but having a tree stump shoved up my vagina is not one of them.

While I try my best not to hyperventilate again, the nurse finishes setting everything up for the doctor and leaves Charlotte and I alone to wait for him.

“That thing is not going in me, Charlotte,” I warn her as soon as the door closes behind the scrub-clad woman. “You better figure something out before the doctor gets in here, or I will lose my shit all over this exam room!”

Charlotte starts to pace next to the paper-covered table.

“Well, obviously you can’t let him give you that ultrasound or he’ll figure out right away you’re not pregnant,” she says. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out. It’s not like you’ve never had a penis in there before, and like the nurse said, it’s not much different than that.”

My silence immediately gives me away and Charlotte stops pacing to stare at me. “Holy shit, there’s no way you’re still a virgin. What about prom and Quinn Curtis?”

I growl at her and point an accusing finger her way. “I knew you read the texts on my phone that weekend, you lying slutbag!”

The morning after that disastrous prom night I walked into my bedroom after taking a shower and caught Charlotte standing by my dresser with my phone in her hands. She told me she accidentally erased all her contacts and needed Gavin’s number.

“How else was I supposed to find out how it went? You refused to answer any of my questions, dick-face vagina-hole!” she fires back.

“Maybe because it wasn’t any of your business, you * f*ck face!”

We stare at each other angrily for a few minutes before we both burst into laughter.

“Oh, my God, we sound like Mom and Aunt Claire,” Charlotte giggles.

“Dick-face vagina-hole?” I ask through my laughter.

“Oh, please, like * f*ck-face was any better,” she smiles. “Grandpa George would be so disappointed in our lack of follow through with strings of curse words.”

Charlotte hops up on the examine table, the paper cover crinkling noisily under her. When the room is silent again after she gets situated, I sigh heavily and move to lean against the table next to her.

“According to Quinn, it was amazing,” I tell her. “According to me, his picture is now in the dictionary next to the words ‘just the tip.’”

Charlotte laughs, looking at me questioningly.

“Seriously. He barely got the tip in before he came, screaming to God about how good it felt. Tampons have gone in my body further than that boy’s tiny penis,” I complain.

“So, technically you’re a pregnant virgin,” she smiles.

“Just call me the Virgin Mary,” I reply sarcastically.

“What are the chances the doctor is really old and senile, and we can switch vaginas without him noticing?” Charlotte asks right as the door opens.

A very handsome, very young man who doesn’t look a day over forty walks in wearing a white lab coat and a nametag that reads Dr. Christenson.

“Not good at all,” I whisper as he looks up from his clipboard and smiles.

“How’s your vision, doc?” I ask casually. “Twenty-twenty or blind-as-a-bat?”

He looks puzzled at my question and I don’t blame him. I don’t even understand half the things coming out of my mouth lately myself.

“Do you have the results from the urine sample?” Charlotte asks.

“I do and congratulations,” he tells me with a smile. “You are definitely pregnant. I just need to do an internal ultrasound so we can nail down how far along you are and discuss your next couple of visits.”

Charlotte hops down from the table and slides her hand through the crook of my arm. “Actually, doctor, I’m really sorry about this, but my sister isn’t feeling very well so we’re going to have to reschedule. She’s already thrown up twice, so we really need to be going.”

I put my hand over my mouth and make some pretend gagging noises as we walk to the door.

“Morning sickness…can’t stop puking,” I mutter behind my hand in between gags, giving him an apologetic look.

“Yep, so much puking,” Charlotte agrees, a loud gag coming out of her own mouth.

“What are you doing?” I whisper as we move through the door. “I’m the one fake gagging, not you!”

“I.”

Gag

“Can’t.”

Gag

“Help it,” she finishes as we rush down the hall towards the bathroom instead of the waiting room.

“Your fake gagging made me real gag!” she complains, dropping her hand from my arm and running the rest of the way to the bathroom and right to the toilet.

Once again, I’m stuck in a small, enclosed space listening to my sister upchuck the contents of her stomach while I hold her hair back.

While I hold my breath and try to ignore the smell and sounds coming out of Charlotte, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Holding Charlotte’s hair with one hand, I pull my phone out with the other and smile when I see a text from Marco.