Falling In Together: (Book Three in The Bridgeport Lake Summer Series)

my new roommate—stood in the frame, her fire-red hair braided back into two pigtails. “Sorry, Lauren. I think Hailey has the flu or something. She’s been throwing up for an hour. We’re not fishing tonight. Can you tell Cory? I’m about to take Hailey down to the nurse in a minute.”
“No worries,” I said. “Maybe another night. I’ll tell him.”
Must be nice to just go and see the nurse. My stomach had been turning all week. I hoped that maybe I’d just caught whatever Hailey had, but I seriously doubted mine was from the flu.
 “Thanks.” She closed the door and I blew a guilty sigh of relief.
Hailey being sick was a bummer, but I’d been trying to find a way out of our fishing tour all day. I mean, they were nice and everything, but we were complete opposites. Back in high school, girls like Hailey and June ran the Christian club, while I was busy repping on the cheer squad and hooking up with as many guys as possible.
Working at Bridgeport the past two summers was my honest attempt at the whole “good girl” thing. But, being around the honest staffers was like some cruel form of torture, especially now that I was freaking out about being a month late. For the past three weeks, I’d been chalking it up to extra stress, but after I missed my period again last Friday, I couldn’t keep ignoring the pregnancy possibility.
What would everyone at Bridgeport say if they knew?
I so did not want to think about it.
Soft gravel crunched beneath my feet as I walked from the women’s lodge down to the lake, passing the basketball courts, the staff lounge, and the pool. The setting sun was turning the sky to shades of blue, lines of pink streaking through the feathery clouds—boy, or girl? Oh my gosh, I had no clue how to raise boys.
Ugh. Focus, Lauren. What outfit should I put together for work tomorrow?
Outfits . . .
I pressed my hands to my flat stomach. How long before I’d start to show? I didn’t have any maternity clothes, and there was no way they’d meet my wardrobe standards.
It didn’t matter. I’d die before I let my style die, even if I had to alter things myself. I’d learn how to at the Fashion Institute, right?
Oh my gosh, the Fashion Institute.
The set of green Adirondack chairs lining the lakeshore caught my eye, and I rushed to the nearest one. I sat and slid down a few inches, my heart pounding and my palms clamming as I focused on my breaths.
I couldn’t go in the fall if I was pregnant.
I couldn’t be pregnant.
Ren just dumped me, and Mom . . . If Mom found out, she might disown me—and the Fashion Institute would be a complete bust because I couldn’t afford it without her help. And Kellie—my perfect Christian sister who always freaking stumbled into doing the right thing—would die of embarrassment.
Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe everything was totally fine. I just needed to take a test and make sure.But I needed to find a way to do it.
A way to do it . . .
How was I supposed to take a pregnancy test at Bridgeport? I couldn’t use the camper’s bathrooms—I mean, I couldn’t imagine the teenage girl drama if they found a wand in their trash cans. And I couldn’t risk taking it in the coffee shop bathroom. Hailey was on garbage duty. Even worse, what if the test turned out positive, and I had to work a whole shift fake smiling and serving coffee like nothing was wrong? I could try my room, but June would probably smell my sin with her innocent Christian nose.
I needed to go to the doctor. They’d be able to test me in two seconds.
But that wasn’t an option either. There was no way of hiding it on Mom’s insurance bill and I wasn’t ready for the freak-out yet.
I dug my fingers into my hair and closed my eyes against the sting, but it didn’t help. How was I supposed to do this alone? Ren’s face swirled through my mind, his gorgeous model smile taunting me, sea-green eyes blazing with a danger I couldn’t resist. But he was gone.
More tears fell.
I hated crying, but why did I always have to pick users? And Ren seemed so different.
A few staffers by the Snack Shop glanced my way, whispering back and forth.
Ugh.
I wiped my eyes and pushed my shoulders back. My bones felt hollow and more than anything else, I needed a bed. I could figure this out tomorrow.
I headed over to the dock first, though, crossing over the rickety wooden boards. Cory was already there, readying one of the rowboats.
I flipped my hair behind my shoulder. “Hey, Cory.”
He waved in silence. Typical Cory style.
“Hailey and June can’t come toni—”
The dock bobbed and heavy footsteps fell behind me. I turned and my cute-guy radar went off the second he grinned at me. If introductory sparks could be rated on a scale of one to ten, I’d say we were at a solid eighteen.
He was tall and muscular, a minor limp marking his stride. The prosthetic leg causing the limp totally added to his tough guy appeal. He had a red-tinged man bun and scruffy beard, and looked more like Viking royalty than a summer camp staffer. The way his mysterious smoky-blue eyes crinkled at the corners was adorable.
Like, wow.
Were we seriously vibing?
No! What was my problem? I was checking out a new guy when I might be pregnant? Kellie was right—I totally was a serial dater.
 “So, yeah, the girls can’t make it. And, I need to jet, too. Sorry,” I muttered to Cory, desperate to get away from tall, thick, and handsome. My platform sandal caught on one of the dock hooks as I dodged around him, and tripped toward the water. I closed my eyes, waiting for the soaking chill, but a strong arm looped around my waist. He tightened his grip, stabilizing me, and