Page 99 of A Little Secret
“Don’t get me wrong. I know you’re an open book when it comes to epilepsy, but seeing the other side of it is…”
“Intriguing?” I offer.
His gaze falls to me, and he smiles. “Just like the woman herself.”
I laugh. “You know everything about me. Not sure the termintriguingfits. Not anymore.”
“Pretty sure I could spend the rest of my life with you, and I’d still find a secret or two.”
“Are you saying I have…layers?” I quip.
He smirks. “Are you about to quoteShrek?”
“Like an onion?” I continue, ignoring his completely accurate assumption. “Am I an onion, Griffin?”
“You’re more like cake.” He stands, moves closer, and grips the sides of my chair, shifting closer. “Everybody loves cake.”
“Nah, I’m an onion,” I argue as my eyes fall to his mouth. “A big, stinky?—”
A knock cuts me off, and Griffin jerks away from me like he was caught with his pants down.
Ha! Been there, done that.
“Hello,” Dr. Reed greets us. He hesitates, scanning Griffin’s tense posture and my red cheeks. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Only me and my boyfriend about to make out since you were taking so long,” I quip.
“Ah, so you’re the infamous Drew?” Dr. Reed offers his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard?—”
“This is Griffin,” I interrupt. “Griffin Thorne.”
Dr. Reed’s big eyes bulge behind his thick, black frames. “Oh. Of course. I apologize.”
“Don’t,” Griffin deflects. He takes Dr. Reed’s hand and shakes it. “Finley’s a hot commodity. Had to snatch her up while I could.”
Relief shines back in Dr. Reed’s expression as he lets Griffin go. “Of course. I assume it’s why you tied her down with a baby, too?”
Griffin opens his mouth to correct Dr. Reed, but I cut him off. “I mean, he’s a hockey player. It’s his job to slip one past the goalie, am I right?”
Griffin’s eyes cut to me, and he tilts his head.
Giving him a smile, I turn back to Dr. Reed. “And speaking of babies, I believe you owe me a congratulations, Dr. Reed.”
His laugh is warm and inviting as he shakes his head back and forth. “Congratulations, Finley. Do your parents know?”
“Not yet,” I answer. “I’m waiting until I’m out of the woods.”
He frowns. “Then you’ll be waiting a long time.”
My lips part in confusion because that’s the last thing I expected him to say. I’ll be waiting a long time until I’m outof the woods? What? Why? How? I thought…I thought the first trimester’s a doozy, but after that, everything would be…smooth sailing. Am I wrong? And if I am, what else?—
“What do you mean?” Griffin interjects.
“Well,” Dr. Reed unlocks the iPad in his arms and begins scrolling through what I assume is my chart. “I’ve looked over the file the ER doctor sent, and even though things looked good at that point, because of your epilepsy, your pregnancy is considered high-risk.”
My brows crease. “I’m sorry, high…risk? What does that mean?”
“It means because of your medication, you have a slightly increased risk of miscarriage, but?—”