Seven weeks ago, I woke up next to a married man, butt naked next to him, who was also butt naked. It's not rocket science to figure out what went on. We had sex. Even though I was drunk, I remember what happened clear as day. The problem? I know his wife, and I know him. Grayson is sex on a stick, standing at six feet two inches, his orangish reddish coming in at volumes, his thick British accent and his blueish grayish eyes, you would think Grayson's an innocent man but his gazes burns, and his hands does wonders-. He's a married man Jesus. When I woke up, he was still sleeping. I almost wanted to kiss him, but instead, I pondered how I got there and quickly dressed and ran from the scene. That night I dreamt everything that had happened-fast forward seven weeks. I went from a 38b in bra size to a 36c. "I'm pregnant," I say weakly.