How convenient.

She gives me a once-over, checking out my outfit. “Going somewhere?”

“I am indeed.” The doctor’s office, obstetrician to be exact. Baby doctor for an eight-week appointment.

“Are you stopping at Starbucks?” Why on earth is she asking?

She doesn’t think she’s coming along, does she?

“I wasn’t planning on stopping for coffee, no.” I used to be a latte girl, but since getting pregnant…no can do.

“Want company? We can drink yummy freshers instead of coffee.”

I tilt my head to study her face. “Is my brother paying you to spy on me?”

Molly’s brows go up. “Do you want the truth?”

I roll my eyes, grabbing my purse off the bed. “I don’t want you to lie, that’s for damn sure.”

Molly mulls this over, speaking slowly. “He’s not paying me to spy on you.”

I know there’s more. “But…?”

“But…he does want me to make sure you’re okay. He doesn’t believe you’re only here because you need a place to stay. He thinks there’s more to it than that.”

My eyes almost bug out of my skull. “Tripp said that?” I could not be more surprised—I know he can be insightful, but for him to suspect any more than what I’ve told him is a shock.

The neighbor girl follows me out the door. “Well, not in those exact words.” Her hand grips the railing as we make our way back to the ground level.

“Well—what words did he use?”

She lowers her voice, feigning a masculine drawl. “Molly, my sister is full of shit. Keep an eye on her for me, would ya?”

Okay, that sounds one hundred percent like something Tripp would say, in those exact words.

I laugh. “Sounds about right. But rest assured, you don’t have to follow me around—I’m fine. I’m not dying.”

My stomach lurches at the sight of the bagels that are now on the counter, the ones that were not there when I went upstairs. “Did you bring those?”

“Your brother had them delivered. He doesn’t think you’re eating enough.”

That’s because I barf it all up.

In fact, I think I’ve lost weight in the past week, which is the opposite of what I want. It’s not good for the baby.

Mateo’s baby.

Ugh!

“Hey, where’s the dog?” He hasn’t bombarded me yet like he usually does anytime I come down the stairs.

“Eating, probably. I just fed him and put water in his bowl.” Molly picks up a plain bagel and aims it in my direction. “Maybe since this is bread, you’ll be able to keep it down?”

I shoot her a look. “Um.” Maybe.

I take it, biting off a chunk, chewing and chewing and swallowing.

So far, so good.

I take another bite.

“Don’t you want any, like, cream cheese?” She’s staring at me downing the bagel as if I’m a monster for eating it plain. Untoasted. No creamy spread.

“God no.”

She’s texting on her phone as I take another bite.

“If you’re texting my brother right now…” My voice trails off with a warning, though let’s be honest—what can I actually do about it?

“I’m just telling him you’re eating!” she says guiltily. “He’s worried about you.”

Fine.

I’ll allow it.

I hesitate, then, “I’m going to the obstetrician.”

“I figured.” Molly waits a few beats before, “So can I come with you?”

I nearly spit out the carbs in my mouth, taken aback by her bold question. “You do not want to come with me to the baby doctor! Don’t you have anything better to do? A dog to walk? Homework?”

She’s picking up the bagels we aren’t eating and puts them in a brown paper bag before folding it closed. “Yes, to those things, but there are also some things I wanted to talk to you about. And I can see you’re in a rush, so I thought we could talk in the car. You can pretend I’m your assistant.”

Oh, I’ve always wanted an assistant! And it would piss my brother off so bad if his assistant became my assistant, and wait, what am I even saying? This is a teenage girl, for pity’s sake—she could never actually work for me!

Baby brain’s got me thinking crazy.

“You cannot come to the doctor with me, Molly. I’m sorry.”

She heaves a sigh. “I know your secret, so you might as well let me come along. So we can talk.”

I feel my eyes narrow. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“Me? Nooo.”

The little snake! What’s in it for her? What the heck does she have to discuss with me that makes her willing to hold me hostage in the car?

“Do you want me to tell my brother you’re an extortionist?”

Her head tilts. “That wouldn’t be accurate because I’m not trying to get anything from you.”

“Are you always this literal?”

“No.” Molly marches toward the garage door, only glancing back to see if I’m following suit. “Are you coming or what?”

The little shit.

I walk behind her, tapping the remote for my car so she can hop into the passenger side. We buckle in and pull out, and I give a quick glance at her house.