Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
A breath gusted out of me. Was that really how she saw me?
I couldn’t stop myself from revealing more. “Do you remember the young woman you saw me with outside the coffee shop in the Valley?”
Pipsqueak started biting on her thumbnail. “I may recall a tall, stunning blonde you claimed you’d had something casual with.”
Everyone was tall next to Pipsqueak and Willow. I doubted they were each more than five-two.
And stunning? No. Taylor would probably make some man a lucky bastard one day, but she wasn’t my type. I wasn’t sure I had a type, but if I did, someone whose features were like… My gaze landed on Pipsqueak, and I quickly shook my head. Jesus fucking Christ. Time to get back on track.
“She’s pregnant.”
Pipsqueak’s mouth popped open, and her eyes grew large.
I swallowed uneasily and reached for my smokes.
The truth was out, at least to one person, and it made everything real. Furthermore, I didn’t know how the fuck I could ever ask Taylor to go ahead with an abortion. Which meant…
“You’re having a baby together?” Pipsqueak squeaked.
“No. I don’t know. Technically, no.” Frustrated with my fumbling, I lit up a smoke and took a deep drag. Then I elaborated, and I probably went overboard, because before I could think twice, the words were falling from my lips. All of it. Most of it. About how Taylor and I had ended our brief arrangement, how she was the sister of a student who had told me about the pregnancy today.
As if that wasn’t enough, I went on to tell her about Taylor’s personal wishes. About her not wanting to be a mother, and, essentially, if there would be a baby, it would be mine.
My mouth ran dry, and I stopped. I stopped talking. Heart thrumming fast, nerves tightening my gut. And the look on Pipsqueak’s face… Holy fuck, what had I done? Had I completely lost my marbles? I’d done exactly what I’d said I wouldn’t. I’d opened up too much, and now Pipsqueak could not look more stunned.
“Fucking hell.” I scrubbed my hands over my face and resisted the urge to scream into the night.
I should’ve brought this to Darius or Ethan.
“I apologize for overwhelming you, hon.” I winced and waited for her reaction. “You can ignore everything I said. I shouldn’t have—”
“What? No.” She seemed to snap out of her haze. “I just… Wow. It’s a lot, but wow.” She exhaled a laugh and drummed her fingers over her lips. “You’re gonna be a dad, Mister.”
“I don’t know that yet,” I responded quickly.
“Oh, come on.” She smiled. “We both know you can’t tell her you’d be okay with an abortion.”
The light from the living room reflected in her eyes, showing they were glistening. I kind of got stuck. I’d always liked her eyes. When they weren’t showing the mischief in her soul, they exuded kindness. Now, with the glow from the living room and unshed tears, I found it impossible to put into words the effect they had on me.
I felt calmer, for starters.
“She could change her mind,” I pointed out quietly.
She nodded slowly. “Maybe. You have to try. That’s all you can do. And we’ll be here for you.”
I swallowed hard, knowing she was right. I wouldn’t be able to stay quiet. It would feel entirely wrong. It would hurt.
When Pipsqueak excused herself to grab her jacket, I pulled out my phone and sent Taylor a message.
Please don’t have an abortion. I will raise the child.
I was just as anxious the next afternoon when I drove over to see Taylor again, but the nausea had been replaced by determination. There was a fear too, and I worried I wouldn’t be able to shake it until the kid was born. Was I looking at approximately seven to eight months of worrying about Taylor backing out? Most likely. Or however long until abortion wasn’t an available option anymore.
The whole concept of bringing a child into the world was still completely foreign to me, but I hoped it was an adjustment I’d go through naturally. Maybe Taylor would too. Maybe she would get attached? I didn’t know. My roller coaster was different from hers.
I had to be there for her and be as accommodating as I could.
Jesus Christ, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Yet here I was. Taylor opened the door for me, and we ended up in the kitchen again.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Like a bottomless pit of puke.” She flashed a wry smile and sat down at the table.
She’d prepared coffee for me. She was settling for a bottle of ginger ale.
“You can’t back out of this, Avery.”
I did a double take at her, caught off guard by her statement. “Back out?”
She shifted in her seat and picked at the label of her bottle. “If you’re sure that you will take care of the baby, you can’t change your mind. I’m doing this because it’s you—because you’re the father.”