Lauren Dun

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You’re pregnant. I spit out my water. Just like that. One word. Enceinte. And my cover is blown. Fucking fuck. They both turn their heads to look at me. For fuck’s sake—my brother gapes like I’ve grown horns, and Lily might as well be catching flies with her mouth. Connor’s eyes continue to darken, his expression so rare that my neck starts to heat uncomfortably.
Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters #2)
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