The Baby Blitz (Varsity Dads #3)(23)
Author: Lex Martin

 

Teresa rattles off something in Spanish. Maggie shakes her head. Then Teresa asks, “¿Estás embarazada?”

 

Why would she ask if Maggie was embarrassed? Of course she is. She’s hurling chunks in the middle of a party.

 

But Maggie’s eyes widen. “I don’t think so. I mean…” She glances at me and then lowers her voice. “I got my period last month. It was light, but…”

 

Oh, shit. Teresa didn’t ask her if Maggie was embarrassed. Teresa asked if she was pregnant.

 

Then they talk about “la regla.” Again, I’m at a loss. I took Spanish years ago in middle school, and I think that word means “the rule,” but judging by the context, I’m off base.

 

In a daze, I go out to the bar, order a glass of ice water, and return to the women’s bathroom. Maggie is off the floor and not so deathly pale anymore, thank God.

 

I hand her the drink as I mull over what I heard a few minutes ago. She got her period after we were together.

 

So that means if she’s pregnant, it’s not mine.

 

I’m instantly relieved.

 

Then wrecked.

 

I definitely don’t need a kid right now—I need to put one hundred percent of my time and energy into the team and my rehab. But this also means Maggie is probably having Greg’s kid.

 

Fuck.

 

Besides my knee injury, I’ve never felt this kind of devastation. Because if I know Maggie, she’ll try to make it work with that guy for the sake of her kid.

 

Being benched for three games last season, I can tell you there’s nothing like watching your team from the sidelines. Seeing what you want to do but being unable to help.

 

It’s the same with Maggie. If this kid were mine, I’d be by her every step of the way.

 

But that role’s not for me.

 

I clear my throat. “Is Greg here? Do you want me to call him for you?”

 

Her head jerks back. “Why would I want to call Greg?”

 

“Because you’re… possibly pregnant… with his baby,” I say.

 

Her expression goes flat. “That’s what you think? That I hopped from your bed straight into his?”

 

I open my mouth, to say what, I don’t know, but Teresa clicks her tongue. “Best to speak carefully, mijo.” She turns to Maggie. “Who’s this Greg person?”

 

“A friend’s old roommate. Someone I went on one date with.”

 

Okay? We didn’t even go on a date. Maggie and I just tore each other’s clothes off like a pair of savages. It can happen.

 

Although thinking that’s what went down between her and Greg sets my teeth on edge.

 

For some reason, my expression pisses her off more. “I’m pretty sure sex is a prerequisite for pregnancy, and I never slept with Greg. I never even kissed him. In fact, you’re the only man I’ve slept with my entire junior year.”

 

Relief sweeps over me so hard, I have to brace myself against the wall. I smile at her like a dumbass. “Really?”

 

“You’re happy about this? About the possibility you knocked me up?”

 

Well, when she says it like that, it’s a lot to process. But I’m too relieved she’s not having another man’s baby to say much.

 

“What will your girlfriend say?” she asks sharply.

 

I scratch my head. “What girlfriend?”

 

“Oh, my God, not this again.” As she pulls out her phone, Teresa waves goodbye and steps out of the bathroom. Maggie taps on her phone and waves it in my face.

 

When I see that blog, I curse under my breath. I should sue those dicks.

 

Conveniently, Maggie pulls up my info. “Hmm. Let’s see. You’re currently dating Vanessa, right? Or is it these bodacious blondes? It’s hard to tell you’re even in this picture, seeing how their tits are pressed to your eyeballs.”

 

I smile again. “Are you jealous?”

 

But my smile evaporates when her eyes well with tears. “Why didn’t you call me? After the wedding? After everything we did. It’s because I told you to go to hell, right? I was upset. Vanessa had showed up, and I figured you guys were still dating. You said we were a mistake, and when my brother said your girlfriend was there, you never corrected him. I figured you were cheating on her. Were you? Were you cheating? Are you really a douchebag?”

 

My God, no wonder she hates me. “I would never say you were a mistake. Hold a gun to my head and test this theory. I swear to you. And I’m not a cheater. Never have been, never will be. And I did call you. In fact, I called you a dozen times, but—”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

I have to pause my groveling because a woman is trying to use the bathroom. I grab Maggie’s hand and pull her out behind me, but instead of heading to the party, I tug her to the back alley. Given the stench coming from the trash, this is a bad idea. Maggie instantly starts retching again.

 

“Fuck.” I wrap her in my arms and walk us to the other side of the building where the breeze is fresh. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

 

When she can speak again, she shakes her head. “You don’t owe me anything, okay? If I am pregnant, it’s not your problem.”

 

“The hell it isn’t. Maggie, I know you don’t have a lot of reasons to trust me right now, but I swear you’re not going through this alone. Whatever your decision, whatever you want to do, I’m on your side. But please let me show you just one thing. Because I need you to believe me.”

 

A long pause ensues before she warily nods.

 

“I asked your brother for your number. I must’ve typed it wrong or heard it wrong. But here are the texts.” I pull up my text thread to Samuel.

 

Tears stream down her face as she stares at my phone, and it kills me not to wrap her in my arms.

 

“Who’s Samuel?” She sniffles.

 

“Some random guy. A friend now, though. He’s the one who got all of my texts and phone calls.”

 

My heart beats erratically, knowing she’s finally reading my messages. Will they be too much? Will they overwhelm her? Will I sound like an ass? Mentally, I think back to what I wrote.

 

Maggie, baby, call me back. Please let me explain what happened after the wedding.