A soft night breeze rose more chills on my skin, grounding me to the present. “So, I’m going to go,” I said, pointing toward the direction of my apartment. It was only a few blocks down the road, thankfully. “Nice knowing you, Nixon.” I smacked his hard chest, perhaps a bit harder than necessary, and walked past him toward home.
“Wait,” he called after me, and I paused. “Can I have your number?”
I snorted a laugh, glancing upward as if the stars would make sense of what my life had become.
My long-time celebrity crush—Raleigh Raptor Quarterback, Nixon Noble—was asking for my number.
And I was having his goddamn baby.
What kind of romantic comedy had I fallen into?
“Sure,” I said, holding out my palm. He dropped his phone into my hand, and I quickly added myself as a contact. I gave him my cell too and waited for him to do the same. “Are you actually going to use it?” I asked, handing his phone back to him, and taking mine.
He pocketed his, something like devastation coloring his features. “I don’t know yet.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. Fine, fair enough. “Don’t wait too long, Nixon,” I said, turning back around to walk home.
“Or what?” e called to my back, something lighter touching his edged tone.
“Or I might disappear.”
“Wait, what?” He jogged to catch up to me, but I didn’t stop walking.
I shrugged. “I have one semester to complete after my summer courses,” I said. “And once I have my doctorate, I’m heading out. I’ve never put down roots for long. So, if I were you, I’d think long and hard about what, if any, role you want in your kid’s life. No judgment either way,” I assured him despite the weight sinking my chest. I wasn’t moving anywhere for a while—not with the final classes I had to take—but I never let my life be set in concrete. He needed to know that up front. “Just know that I’m not some crazed fan of yours who will wait around forever, hoping you’ll call.”
He stopped in front of me, blocking my path. “You’re saying you don’t want me to call?” Challenge lit his eyes.
I tilted my head before shoving past him, completely done with this day. I’d set out to do the right thing and tell him the truth about the results of our crazy night in Vegas. And he’d insulted me twice. I was beyond done.
So, I glanced over my shoulder, allowing him to see the severity in my eyes. “I’m saying I don’t care either way.”
And I kept on walking, not once looking back.
3
Nixon
“You said what?” Nate barked through my speakers.
“I asked her if it was mine,” I repeated slowly as I turned left onto the street that led to The Barn.
“Holy shit, you can’t ask her that!” he shouted.
“Why the hell not?” I fired back.
“Because you just can’t!” he sputtered. “It’s on the list of shit you’re never allowed to ask a pregnant woman. That’s right up there with ‘are you pregnant?’ Why the hell would you do that?”
“I can think of about thirty-six million reasons, one of which might just be Lila.” I slowed the car as I approached the gate.
“Shit.” My brother sighed so hard I felt it all the way from South Carolina. “I get it. I really do, but Liberty isn’t your ex.”
“Oh, and you got to know her character so well during those twenty-four hours we were in Vegas?” I questioned and waved my access card at the panel. The gate opened before me.
“Fair point. Call your lawyer. Even if she is pregnant and it is yours, you’re going to need him. And as hard as I’m cringing as I say this, you’re going to have to ask her for a paternity test.”
“And you somehow don’t think that’s more offensive than point-blank asking my one-weekend stand if her baby is mine?” I scoffed as I pulled into my designated parking space.
“No, that’s just being smart legally. She’ll get that.”
I put the car in park and sat there silently for a second.
“What’s going through your head, Nixon?” Nate asked me. We always knew when the other wasn’t giving up the full story. Call it twin intuition or whatever. We knew.
“She told me I could sign my rights over,” I said quietly.
“Damn.” A few breaths passed. “You thinking about it?”
“What? No!” If that baby was mine, there was zero chance I’d walk away. But the last time I’d made that commitment… Don’t go there. “It just made me think that she might be telling the truth. Someone trying to extort money isn’t going to offer an out.”
“Solid argument. Where did you leave it?”
“We exchanged numbers, and she told me not to wait too long to decide if I want a role in the baby’s life because she’s not planning on sticking around.” What kind of mindfuck was that? Who the hell told you in one breath that she was having your kid, and in the next informed you that you weren’t worth staying around for? “Anyway, I asked for some proof. Was that too insulting, oh wise one?”
Another sigh filled my speakers. “No, that’s smart. You need me up there? I can hop on the next flight.”
Some of the anxiety twisting my stomach into knots lifted, but I knew I couldn’t pull him away from Harper. These were the only months they got together before the NHL season started. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll call you as soon as I know for sure what’s going on.”
“Okay. Offer stands…Oh, and…uh….are we telling Mom?”
“Fuck no!”
“Just making sure.” He laughed.
I hung up with my twin and headed inside for our weightlifting session. Thirty minutes later, I was covered in sweat as Roman spotted me for the bench press.
“Any news?” he asked quietly.
He and Hendrix were the only guys I’d told besides Nate since they were the ones who had found me standing in a daze in the middle of the training field after Liberty left.
“Nope,” I grunted.
“Well, the good news is if it’s true, at least it’ll be a good-looking kid.” He offered me a smile as I put the bar back.
“If there even is a kid,” I muttered as I sat up slowly. Would it have Liberty’s green eyes or my—hell no. I stopped myself cold. Something this huge could only be handled one emotional step at a time, and until I had proof that she was actually pregnant, there was no imagining any kid.
“Hey, did you guys see the new trainer?” Hendrix asked with a grin, then threw a wink at the blond with a clipboard.
“Don’t.” Roman and I answered simultaneously. No doubt he still would, and then we’d have to deal with that shitstorm, just like we had with the last two grad students who’d done their internships with the team.
“What? It’s not like she’s a minor or anything.” He shrugged.
“For fuck’s sake,” Roman muttered.
My cell phone vibrated, and I whipped it out of my pocket.
Liberty Jones.
My stomach hit the floor as I showed the screen to Roman and Hendrix, then made a beeline for the side door. This wasn’t the kind of call I was going to take in the fucking weight room.