Read My Best Friend's Baby for Free Online

for lying to him about it in the first
place?
    What if he didn't believe her at all? She'd
lose her best friend. End of story. Finito .
    Aaack. The whole thing was too muddled to
deal with. With a helpless groan, Chloe flipped down the toilet
seat and sat on it. Chin in hand, she stared at the pregnancy test.
It grew bigger in her imagination, pulsing on the vanity like an
atomic experiment from one of Nick's Godzilla movies.
    She was losing it.
    Get a grip , she commanded herself.
Then her front door swooshed open, Nick's voice called to her from
the living room, and Chloe nearly jumped out of her skin. The
pregnancy test box clunked hollowly to the linoleum, punctuating
the sound of the other shoe dropping into her life. Could she face
Nick and still not tell him the truth?
    She'd have to.
    And, if necessary, she could always tell him
the truth later. If the test was positive. No point worrying
him for no reason, right?
    "Chloe?"
    His voice got louder, echoing down the
hallway. Coming closer. She leaped out of the bathroom and slammed
the door shut behind her, just in time to collide with Nick.
    "Ooof!"
    "Hi!" she said with an overly-chipper smile,
taking in his rumpled khaki shorts and Cardinals T-shirt with an
appreciative glance born of knowing exactly what kind of fine-tuned
body he kept beneath them. "You surprised me."
    "Your front door was open." He stepped
backward, straightened his glasses, and gave her a quick once-over.
"Oversleep again? Come on, Chloe. You're never going to convince
that old coot Griggs to give you your loan if you can't even make
it to your appointment on time. You know that. You—"
    His gaze stopped on her purple-dotted
boxers. "—You, you, you've been in business long en ... ." He
stopped. "Do you always sleep in those?"
    His eyebrows furrowed beneath his glasses
rims. His fingertip raised to his lips, tapping in the way that
always showed he was deep in thought about an experiment, or a new
invention ... or the night he thought they'd never spent
together.
    Chloe slapped her hands over her boxers and
neon green T-shirt like an old-maid aunt. "These?" she cried,
trying to look horrified at being caught undressed. "Just got ‘em
yesterday. Big sale down at Bevick's department store. You know,
the one down on Main Street with the, um, wedding dresses in the
window and the cute little slingback crocodile shoes with the bows
on the toes?"
    Her monologue ran out of breath and she ran
out of lies, but that was okay—Nick's eyes had already glazed over
at the mention of shopping. Thank God he never paid attention to
everyday details like clothes.
    "I'd better go change," she muttered, and
made her escape.
    At her entrance into her bedroom, Moe meowed
and then tried slipping through the opened door. It gave her an
idea. She scooped him up, grazed her chin across his soft furred
head, then leaned into the hallway.
    "Moe's really missed you." Rapidly, she
slipped her armful of orange tabby into his hands before he could
object. "He hates it when you work so much. We can't wait until
your growth-accelerator proposal is done."
    That ought to hold him for a while ,
Chloe decided as she snicked the door shut again, trying not to
hear Nick's grumbling on the other side. It was beyond her why he
didn't want pets of his own—all of hers obviously loved him.
    Maybe he'd like something simple. Something
small. A hamster like Curly, or a goldfish, or ... no. The poor
thing would probably keel over from neglect the next time Nick's
inventing bug struck. A commitment-phobe like him was strictly the faux pet type. Maybe this Christmas she'd buy him one of
those videotapes that made it look like your television housed a
whole aquarium full of exotic fish. That was just about Nick's
speed.
    No commitment. No obligations.
    No risk.
    No change in plans.
    Sighing, Chloe made herself quit mentally
matchmaking Nick. She had an appointment to get ready for, and it
didn't involve the wild kingdom—not unless Effram