Johari

When I applied to medical school, I under no circumstances thought I’d be paying the bill by becoming a surrogate. I suppose a girl has to do what she has to do in the end, so I decided to intercept Uncle Sam before he could arrive for me. Crazy enough, it’s amazingly no problem finding willing individuals. I responded an ad and the guy arrived on the coffeehouse we agreed to meet at. He showed up frickin’ . beautiful and with brown eyes that tightened my tummy with techniques they most likely shouldn’t have. He about Baby, Baby: Chicago appears familiar to me. Like I’ve seen him on the news or in the paper or something.

And the very last thing I should become doing is falling for the guy whose baby I volunteered to transport.

Alexander

She’s obviously right here for another person, decided to meet another person. In regards to a baby? She wants to carry . . . my baby? Oddly, before the second I met this woman the idea had never really crossed my brain. I suppose the concept never had period to form taking into consideration I’ve just been cleared of cancers. I get the news before I match her. I meet up with her and everything adjustments. I want a baby. I want another chance to lead a fulfilling life and I want . . . her.

But how can I have them both?

Contains mature themes.