by Gina Azzi
“You’re serious?”
“As a heart attack. The only difference is, I’ll never find a woman who wants to put up with all my bullshit and baggage. So it’s kind of a moot point.”
I sigh, “East—”
“We’re talking about you,” my brother deflects.
I swallow, thinking over his words. “I fucked up.”
“You did.”
“But I did what’s best for her.”
“If you think so.”
“We never had a future.”
“If that’s what you want to believe.”
“What the fuck, man? Are you just going to agree with me?” I nearly shout.
East snorts. “If I disagree, will it make a difference? You’ve been kidding yourself since day one, Noah. This has always been a helluva lot more serious than you keep pretending.”
“She doesn’t want this life.”
“Then let her go, Noah. Walk away. Let her go on her date to The Ivy with another guy and be happy for her.”
My stomach twists in knots just thinking of Indy and Aiden going out to dinner together. Anger beads in my bloodstream, hot and jealous. What the fuck was I thinking?
“You can’t, can you?” Easton goads.
“I gotta go. We got a game tonight,” I bite out, desperate to end this conversation.
“If she’s the one, Noah—”
“I’ll see you in three weeks, East,” I cut him off.
Easton sighs, “Good luck tonight, brother.”
I disconnect the call and jump up from my seat, pacing back and forth in front of the hotel bed. The whole point behind a friends-with-benefits arrangement is to avoid feeling like this. Fucked up, angry, scared, jealous.
I thought that by hooking up with Indy, I’d be able to avoid distractions.
What a laughable concept.
As if I could just stop thinking about Indy. As if I could just let her go.
“Good game, Scotch!” Torsten slaps a palm against my helmet, whooping loudly as we skate off the ice.
We won. Thank God, we won tonight’s game. The team celebrates in the locker room, all of us recounting parts of the game, telling jokes, and wishing East was here with us.
When the room starts to clear out, I pull out my phone to check it. Disappointment swirls in my stomach that there’s no message from Indy. I don’t know why the hell I keep hoping there will be. I really messed things up with her and even though I did what needed to be done, I don’t feel relieved at all.
I feel like shit.
My stomach sinks. I plop down on the bench and tap out a message. Delete. I try again. Delete.
Damn. It’s been three days since I’ve talked to her and it feels like the longest three days of my life.
But I didn’t end things with Indy for me. I did it for her. For her future and the lifestyle she wants.
I close my eyes and drop my forehead into my hand. All I’ll accomplish by messaging her is making things between us even more convoluted. What the hell am I doing besides playing juvenile head games? She needs to move on and I need to let her.
Forcing myself to stand up, I clutch my cell phone in my fist.
It beeps with an incoming message and my heart leaps into my throat. A wave of hopefulness washes through me as I bring my phone up.
The second I spot Austin’s name, disappointment plows through me.
Austin: Team’s grabbing beers at the hotel. Even James. You coming?
Shit. Team drinks is the last thing I feel like doing. I’m exhausted, pissed off, and in the kind of mood that will quickly put a damper on team morale.
I sigh, dropping my forehead against the locker door. The cool metal cuts into my skin as I mentally pep talk myself.
It’s time for me to move on. Indy made it clear that there’s nothing left between us. All we have now are a handful of good memories. That needs to be enough. I need to get my head on straight and keep moving forward.
Me: Yeah. Meet you there.
25
Indy
That can’t be right.
I count back on my fingers, looking at them in utter confusion, as the math doesn’t add up. At least, not the way it’s supposed to.
“No. No way,” I murmur, drawing Claire’s stare.
“What’s wrong?” she asks when she sees my expression.
“When did we get coffee with Rielle?” I ask her, vaguely recalling the afternoon in the coffee shop when I got my period. But that was weeks—no, months—ago.
“Uh…” Claire stares at me like I’m losing my mind. “Like two months ago. See what I mean? She doesn’t have time for anything anymore. Can’t even get a cup of coffee with her freaking friends.” She stops speaking, her eyes narrowing. “Dude, what’s wrong with you?”
My body locks down as my mind whirls, mentally counting and recounting. It can’t be…but, shit, when the hell was my last period?
“Earth to Indy!” Claire waves a hand in front of my face.
I open my mouth but no words come out. Swiping my tongue along my lower lip, I clear my throat. “I don’t remember when I last had my period.”
Claire’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open. Her expression is so dramatic, so damn appropriate, that I’d laugh if we weren’t talking about me.
“I mean, I do,” I clarify. “It was the day we met Rielle for coffee.”
“Shit, Indy.” Claire drops to her knees on the floor in front of me. “That was like…” She pulls up the calendar app on her phone. “Seven weeks ago.”
I close my eyes.
“It could be something else,” Claire whispers.
I open my eyes and glare at her. “Like what?”
“Have you been exercising a lot lately?”
When I flip her the middle finger, she cracks a small smile and then I do and then we’re both hysterically laughing, clutching our stomachs, even though nothing, not one thing, is funny at the moment. My laughter gives way to tears that turn to hiccups and then, I’m sobbing, fat tears streaming down my face as my hands shake.
“What the hell am I going to do?”
Claire hops up from her spot on the floor and grabs my house keys off my table. “Confirm it. We don’t even know what we’re dealing with. I’m going to run around the corner and grab some tests.” She darts into my kitchen and returns with a glass of water. “You start drinking. We’re going to need a lot of pee.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Seriously?”
“If you want to do multiple tests.”
“Right.” I gulp back some water. “Go!” I usher her to the door when she pauses to stare at me.
“I’d offer wine but…” Claire shrugs sheepishly.
I throw my wallet at her head. “Get some for yourself. Get me…a Snickers bar.”
Claire snorts and I crack a smile. Tears well in the corners of my eyes again and my cousin’s expression softens. “No matter what happens, Indiana, we’ll figure this out.”
At her words, my tears spill over my eyelids. I stare at my cousin, probably less qualified to offer words of wisdom than me, but know she’s being truthful. Even though Claire is a hot mess half the time, she’s always had my back. She’s always been there for me, like right now. And she’s right, we will figure this out. Whatever this ends up being. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she says before slipping out of my apartment.
I glance at the water glass and take a deep breath. Then, I chug it.
Four tests.
Four freaking tests from four different manufacturers, which all confirm the same thing.
“You’re really pregnant.” Claire’s voice is hushed, as if she’s surprised. As if this isn’t the obvious conclusion when you miss your period and are sexually active with a hunky hockey god.
“I’m really pregnant,” I confirm, staring at the four positive tests.
“Are you going to tell your parents?”
I lean back against the bathroom door and slide down until I’m seate
d on the floor. Claire sits next to me and crosses her legs. For a moment, it’s like we’re kids again, playing makeup in the bathroom and making plans for when we’re old enough to actually go out wearing it.
“Of course I’m going to tell them.”
She nods.
“But don’t you think I should tell him first?”
“Scotch?”
“No, the other guy I’ve been sleeping with,” I deadpan and Claire snickers.
She takes my hand in hers and squeezes. “Yes, I think you should tell him first. It’s the mature thing to do, the right thing, and you’ve always been—”
“A rule follower?”
“Well, this may change your rule-following status but…”
I laugh and Claire grins. “Tell him, Indy.”
I nod, blowing out a breath. “I need to figure it out first. For myself, I mean.”
“Are you going to…”
I look up at her.
“Keep it?” she asks softly.
It’s a fair question and I appreciate the lack of judgement in Claire’s tone when she asks it. But it’s not a question I even consider before nodding. “I’m twenty-seven years old, Claire. I have a well-paying job, my own place, supportive parents and family.” I gesture at her. “I know it’s not the decision everyone would or even could make but I can and, well”—I shrug—“I always wanted to be a mom. I just thought I’d be married first.”
“Or at least dating the guy,” Claire supplies helpfully before wincing at her words.
“Or that,” I agree. “I just, I need to sort through it in my head. How it will all work, you know? I mean, I can do this on my own for sure, but if Noah wants to be involved, he can.”
Claire bites the corner of her mouth. “Talk to him, Indy.”
I blow out a deep breath and pick up my phone. With shaky fingers, I tap out a message to Noah.
Me: Hey. Can we talk?
He responds immediately, which causes a flicker of relief to roll through my body.
Noah: Hi. Of course. Are you okay?
“Damn, he’s intuitive,” Claire remarks. “Must have gotten all the intuition in the Scotch family because his brother is oblivious to life.”
Before I can formulate a response, my phone chimes again.
Noah: Do you want me to come by?
Shit. I show Claire my phone screen. “I can’t. I’m not ready to talk to him about this now.”
“Okay, that’s okay.”
“Plus, he has a big game tonight,” I add, not wanting to deliver this news before he has to appear on ESPN. God, why does that even matter right now?
Claire takes my phone and taps out a reply, showing it to me before pressing send.
Me: I’m tied up at the moment. Can we talk later? After your game tonight?
I nod and she hits send.
Noah: You coming to the game?
Me: Yes.
Noah: Okay. Wait for me afterward? We’ll grab a bite.
“Aww,” Claire sighs dreamily. “He misses you, Indy.”
“I’m sure he’s not going to feel that way after I tell him I’m having his baby,” I snap. I inhale sharply, the information finally penetrating the protective walls of my brain. “Claire, I’m having a baby.”
She looks up, her eyes widening at whatever she reads on my face.
“I’m growing a person,” I add.
Claire wraps her arm around my shoulders and I lean into her. “You’re going to be an amazing mama, Indy. Trust me.” I look up at her and she grins. “I know what you’re thinking but about this, you can trust me.”
My phone dings again.
Noah: It’s okay if you don’t want to get dinner. We can just talk.
Me: We need to talk.
His response is immediate.
Noah: Indy, is everything okay?
Me: Good luck tonight. I’ll meet you after the game.
I’m relieved that Noah plays well. Focused and determined, he’s a machine on the ice, even scoring the final goal. After not seeing him for nearly a week, I can’t tear my eyes away. I watch him every second of the game with my heart in my throat and my stomach in my feet.
God, I miss him.
The few times his face appears on the jumbo screen above the ice, I wince at how exhausted he looks. Purple stamps beneath his eyes, stubble on his cheeks and chin, a severe slant to his mouth.
It doesn’t diminish from his sexiness. My heart leaps at the sight of him and for the millionth time since Thanksgiving, I wish things between us were different.
The Hawks win 5–3 and the team is in a celebratory mood. The guys whoop, slapping one another’s helmets and backs as they skate off the ice. Instead of joining them, Noah turns around and scans the WAGs area until his gaze collides with mine.
His expression is severe, his eyes dark. He dips his chin, letting me know we’re still on to talk, and I nod. Gathering up my belongings, I wait for Claire to say goodbye to some of her friends, and then we walk to the corridor where we wait for Noah and Austin.
When the first players trickle out, my back snaps straight, anticipation and nerves riding through my veins on a wave of adrenaline.
“You got this,” Claire whispers encouragingly. She tosses out hellos to the players but doesn’t draw any of them into conversation like usual.
When Austin pushes through the door, I know Noah will be right behind him. Claire steps away from me and rushes for her brother, talking a mile a minute about a family drama and ushering him right past me, shooting me a wink over her shoulder.
I turn away from Claire as a shadow falls over me, two boots stopping directly in front of mine. The fresh scents of mountain air and pine wrap around me and I wish he would open his arms, scoop me up, and make me feel safe.
Because right now, I’m petrified.
“Indy.” His voice is strained. He touches my wrist, hesitation and concern rippling over his expression.
“Good game, Noah.” I lift the corner of my mouth but can’t bring myself to smile fully and he sees it.
“What’s wrong?” He inches closer, his eyes burning.
I tip my head down the hall. “Can we get out of here?”
He nods and even though we’re not together, he threads his fingers with mine and leads me out of the arena, not caring who sees, not caring about anything except me.
The realization makes my eyes sting and I silently curse myself. Pull it together, Indiana. Today, in a crazy whirlwind where Google and SEO became my best friends, I read about the wild and unpredictable pregnancy hormones. Right now, I am that woman. Overcome with too many damn feelings to process any of them.
Noah tucks me into the passenger seat of his car and slides behind the steering wheel. He flips on the ignition and cold air immediately blasts from the vents. He flips the temperature dial all the way to hot and we sit in silence for several breaths as the car gradually warms. Noah turns to look at me, his fingertips tapping the top of the center console.
“Indy, just tell me. Are you okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Did something happen? Are you sick?” Anguish ripples over his face, his tone pleading.
“Kind of,” I manage, tears welling in my eyes.
His expression is stricken as he stares at me with wide eyes. “Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me. I don’t care if we’re hooking up or not, I’m here for you.”
I nod, bringing my hands to my cheeks.
“Talk to me, Indy,” he pleads.
I close my eyes, not wanting to see his expression as I blurt out, “I’m pregnant.”
The words hover between us, causing the air to shift. Noah stops talking. I force my eyes open. His head jerks back like I pushed him and he stares at me in confusion. “Um, what?”
I work a swallow and repeat myself, relieved my voice doesn’t crack. “I’m pregnant, Noah.”
“A baby?”
I nod. Noah’s hand slides off the center console and wraps
around my wrist. Still, I can’t read his thoughts other than the sheer confusion in his eyes.
“I just found out today,” I add.
“Are you—”
“I’m keeping it.”
He shakes his head and I flinch, ripping my wrist from him.
He grabs it again, squeezing. “That’s not what I was going to ask.” He dips his head to meet my eyes so I’m staring directly into his when he says, “I was going to ask if you’re okay?”
I blow out a sigh, my body burning hot and cold. Nerves and fear and uncertainty swirl through my limbs with the force of a hurricane. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Indy?”
“I don’t know.” I look at him. The more seconds that tick by without him freaking out causes my emotions to swirl violently. I feel wild, out of control, scared out of my mind.
Noah’s expression softens. Without hesitating, he leans over the center console and pulls me into his arms. The second my face rests against his shoulder, I breathe him in. Tears track my cheeks as I cry and Noah holds me.
“Noah, I don’t know,” I repeat myself.
“You are, Indy,” he says without a trace of doubt. “You are.”
26
Noah
She pulls back and stares at me like she’s not sure if she believes me or not.
My heart pumps furiously, my head buzzing with a million thoughts, questions, but catching the look on Indy’s face, I force myself to hold them back. She’s overwhelmed, fuck, I feel overwhelmed and I’m not the pregnant one.
A baby. Indy’s pregnant with my baby.
I blow out a sigh. I can’t think about that now. I need to keep my focus on Indy. “Are you hungry?”
She shakes her head. “Can we just, can you take me home?” Her voice is small and I hate it. I hate hearing the uncertainty there when I’ve come to know her as being larger than life.
“Yeah. We’ll pick something up on the way to your place. You need to eat.” It comes out more forceful than I intend but whatever. She does need to eat. She looks pale, exhausted…upset.