It takes me a few seconds to connect the dots. “Me?”
“Yes, and I’m so sorry. I panicked. She was pressuring me to let her move in with me—”
“She wants to move in with you? Now that’s a bad idea.”
“Right? Thank you. That’s what I figured. Anyway, I was thinking about how Olly said you needed a roommate, and I meant to go with that, tell her I was moving in with you, and then I just took things too far, telling her you were my girlfriend.”
For a hot second, my mind runs with this scenario, and I can’t deny how much I like it.
Internally, I sigh. That bottle to my head must’ve scrambled my brains because last thing I need is to take up with another jock.
I gulp down another long sip of my tea to buy myself a minute and convince myself this has ‘catastrophe’ written all over it.
“You’re pissed. Forget I said anything.” Ben starts to get up.
“Sit down. I’m not upset. Just surprised. Tell me what you would need me to do.”
He drops back down onto the couch and plants his elbows on his muscular thighs. “I’m not sure. I’m really fucking confused. Olly’s right—if the paternity test proves the kid is mine, I’ll need a place to stay for Lily’s sake.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “Which… that probably takes precedence over fabricating a girlfriend, right?”
“Child security should come first, yes.” I try to hide my smile as I watch him brood. “Okay, let’s make this easy and untangle everything. You need a place to stay, at least when you have your daughter, assuming she’s yours. So stay here when you have her. We’ll clean up Destiny’s room and make it kid-friendly. Cover the electrical outlets, make sure there aren’t any sharp corners on whatever furniture you bring over.”
He nods slowly. “That would be great. Training camp is starting soon, and that needs my whole focus. The dorms we usually stay in are being remodeled, which I guess works in my favor, because then I can spend time with Lily in the evenings. But I can find another living situation for the fall. I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with us forever.”
Would that be so bad?
Yes, Sienna. Think for once. You do not want to fall for the second-biggest player on the campus. Didn’t Cal screw you over enough for one lifetime?
That sobers me up.
I vow it to myself—I, Sienna Cruz, will keep the epically handsome and emotionally unavailable Ben Rodriguez in the friend zone.
No naked funsies. No friends with bennies or getting under him to get over my ex. Completely platonic.
I can do this. I think.
He’s not looking for anything serious anyway. With the responsibilities he has as a Division I football player with a kid and a high maintenance ex, Ben will have his hands full.
And if he’s only planning to stay here for the last month of summer, I can look for a full-time roommate in the fall. Financially, I can swing it until then.
“So we’ll be roomies. What else? You need me to bat my eyelashes at you if Janelle is around and pretend I’m into you?”
He nods slowly as the color rises in his cheeks. “I hate to ask it of you, but yeah, that would be great. Maybe a little hand-holding or some hugs. Nothing major.”
Sure. Nothing major. Just pretend to be into Ben.
11
BEN
I stare at the screen, wishing the paternity report said something different. Like, You’re off the hook, asshole! You weren’t dumb enough to knock up the woman who shredded your heart. You’re not stuck with her... for life!
Except that’s not what my laptop says.
Swallowing so I don’t puke up my breakfast, I try to remind myself of something wise Dr. Patricia says so I can calm the fuck down. But I can’t shake the idea that Janelle and I are parents. Together. And now she’ll be a permanent fixture in my life. But worse, Liliana is stuck with me.
Anxiety ratchets up my spine when I consider all the ways I could fuck up that kid. She deserves better. She deserves a dad who wants kids. Who knows how to be around them. Who doesn’t have massive panic attacks when he’s around what’s left of his real family.
Janelle and I are a shitshow on a good day. What’s gonna happen on the bad ones?
For some reason, Sienna comes to mind. Why couldn’t she have been the one I knocked up? She’s sweet and chill and fun and hot as hell.
I text Janelle.
* * *
The test was positive. But I guess you knew that.
* * *
Maybe that was an assholish thing to say, but fuck it. She lied about it for years. Besides, I am an asshole. Best she get used to this version of me instead of the pussy-whipped douche who followed her around in high school.
Those three little dots start bouncing around, but before she responds, I tell her we’re going to Target to get baby crap. So I can actually take care of the baby.
Scary shit, right there.
“I guess it’s time I figure out my head from my ass and learn how to take care of Lily,” I mumble.
Scarier words have never been said.
An hour later, I’m standing in hell. AKA the baby aisle of Target.
“Oh, my God, this is so freaking cute,” Janelle squeals as she holds up some pink monstrosity.
“Does Liliana really need a tutu hanging off her ass?”
Janelle ignores me as she rifles through more girlie shit.
I glance around, feeling like aliens have abducted me. I’m surrounded by breast pumps and baby wipes and butt paste. Why would butt paste be in the children’s aisle, you ask? No fucking clue. And if I’m lucky, I’ll never have to find out.
Lily chucks her bottle out of the stroller, and when it lands, the lid pops off and milk goes everywhere.
I’m not a religious man, but right now it feels like I’m being punished for not going to church with Tía Teresa more often when I was growing up.
After I clean up the mess with a million wipes, I rub the spot between my eyes that started pounding a little while ago.
When I got the paternity results this morning, I figured Janelle would know what I’d need for my new place—my fake apartment at Sienna’s—but so far, all she wants to do is accessorize pink outfits.
Sienna, bless her beautiful soul, said we could bring over all this crap today to get Lily’s situation set up and make sure Janelle got the message loud and clear that I wasn’t on the menu.
When Janelle’s done crooning about the pink tutu, I launch into my spiel again, the one she keeps avoiding. “So how are we going to deal with custody? I need to figure this out, Janelle. I have training camp coming up that has the potential to suck the life from my body in this South Texas heat. I won’t be in a good headspace then to make any kind of decisions about this.”
Dr. Patricia is always reminding me to not make monumental decisions when I’m stressed, which sounds reasonable, though it’s not always practical. Don’t big decisions automatically skyrocket your stress?
Janelle turns her face up to me and lifts an eyebrow. “I could suck the life from your body,” she whispers in a sultry purr.
I check in with my dick, which doesn’t respond, thank God. Because a man can dislike someone and still want to fuck her silly. But I’m pretty sure she carved that up like a holiday turkey senior year of high school. Even last Friday night when I thought I was headed for a booty call, nothing below the belt got invested.