The Pickup (Imperfect Love Book 1)
Page 8
I was hoping when we returned today, I would come home to a quiet house, but instead, I walk in to the opposite. Groaning when I spot everyone, I consider sneaking back out and heading to Killian’s place, but before I can, Celeste spots me and calls out my name.
“Thanks for letting me know everyone is here, babe.” I glare at my fiancée, and she shoots daggers back at me. Nobody besides Killian has any clue about our pact-slash-fake relationship.
“Of course we’re here!” My mom huffs. “Yesterday was Christmas and you were away. I was thinking we can open gifts. Celeste said your results are back. They came in this morning. Has this woman told you what she wants yet?”
I grab the envelope off the counter and notice it’s been opened. “Really? You guys opened the results for me?”
“We need to know what we’re working with, Nick,” my dad says. “I saw your game yesterday. You can’t let this baby news affect your game, and if you don’t nip this shit in the bud, she’ll be suing you for child support.”
“So, I’m the father?” I ask, pulling the papers out to read them myself.
“Yes,” Celeste answers, zero emotion showing through her rough exterior. “But this doesn’t have to change anything.” She comes over to me and puts her hands on my arms.
“I need to think about all this,” I tell her honestly. Now that I officially know I’m the father, there are a million different thoughts swarming around in my head. It was one thing to consider the possibility, but now it’s fact. I’m someone’s dad.
Not liking my answer, Celeste squeezes my arms. “What is there to think about?”
“A lot, actually,” I say, moving my arms out of her grip.
“Like what?” she presses.
“How about the fact that I have a child with my coach’s daughter, for starters?” That’s not really high on my list of worries, but it’s the safest thought to say out loud.
“That’s hardly a concern,” my dad says. “Your season is almost over, which means so is your contract, and with the way you’ve been playing, every team is going to want you.”
“Like who?” Celeste asks.
“LA for one,” my dad says. This gets Celeste’s attention. I can already hear the ideas forming in her head of moving across the country and away from Olivia. LA isn’t really where Celeste wants to live, but since she sometimes travels there for work, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
“I don’t know what the future holds. For all we know, I could end up in Michigan or somewhere.” I name the last place in the world Celeste would want to end up just to fuck with her, and it works. She shudders then glares.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Nick,” she seethes.
“I need to go speak to Liv about the paternity. Now, as my fiancée, do you want to go with me?” I know she won’t want to go, but at least I can say I tried.
“I need to catch my flight soon.”
“Mom, do you want to go with me to meet your grandchild?”
My mom scrunches up her nose. “How about you send me a picture? At that age, all they do is eat and sleep anyway.”
“Dad?” I ask stupidly, but before he can answer, my mom cuts in.
“Can we please open presents?”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” my dad says. “Money doesn’t get made by itself. I have a meeting with a potential client.” He glances down at his watch to check the time. My mom doesn’t even ask him to stay, like it’s perfectly normal for her husband to choose work over spending Christmas with his family. And I guess it is. It’s how it’s always been.
Once he’s gone, the three of us make our way to the living room, and my mom grabs the gifts under the small tree Celeste paid to have brought in.
Both women open their gifts, squealing with delight. Celeste throws herself into my arms, giving me a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you so much.” She puts the stainless-steel Tiffany watch on her wrist then shows it to my mom. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” I’m not sure why she’s acting so shocked, she picked the damn thing out herself.
My mom agrees. “It is. Thank you, Nick.” She holds up the certificate for the week-long cruise I purchased for her and my dad. That gift I did pick out myself. Regardless of how frozen my heart has become, I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to help my parents rekindle the love they once had for each other, even if I’ve accepted it’s most likely not going to happen. I figured a cruise would be a good place for them to get away and enjoy each other’s company.
“You’re welcome, Mom.”
She leans over and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “I love you, sweetie.”
I nod absently as the women open up the other gifts I got for them, the smiles on their faces never faltering, and I wonder what it would take to put a smile on Olivia’s face. Most women are simple. Expensive jewelry, clothes, vacations, and they’re good to go. Olivia, on the other hand, that day in the locker room and then in the hospital room, didn’t want anything I had to offer. Then I question why I’m even thinking about what it would take to make her happy. It’s not my job to make her happy. I shouldn’t want to make her happy.
Celeste may think I’m going to end up with Olivia, but she’s wrong. Olivia chose to walk away that morning after. She’s one of the reasons I agreed to the pact with Celeste in the first place. No emotions. But even as I try to convince myself what I’m thinking is how I really feel, I can’t overlook the fact that Olivia has crossed my mind a dozen times since Celeste and I talked. I may not want her to be in my thoughts, but that isn’t stopping her from being in them.
“All right, I need to head over to Olivia’s.”
“Wait, I have a gift for the two of you.” My mom runs to her purse and pulls out an envelope.
Celeste opens it then jumps up off the couch. “Oh, Victoria! Thank you!”
“What is it?”
“It’s an appointment with Dedra Fray, one of the most elusive wedding planners in the world! How did you do this? I heard she has a wait list a mile long.”
“I’ve become close with Kelly Parks.”
“The mother of Zack Parks, my teammate?” I question.
“Yes, she’s so sweet. Anyway, his wife used Dedra, and when I mentioned Celeste would be looking for a planner soon, she called in a favor. Turns out Dedra is a huge fan of yours, Celeste.”
“Oh, wow! Thank you. I can’t wait to start planning our wedding. You’ll come with me, right?” she asks my mom.
“Of course. Maybe we can finally get your mom to fly up with me so she can join us.”
“I doubt it,” Celeste says with a frown. “It’s been ten years since I moved to New York, and she hasn’t once agreed to leave Piermont. Not even for a weekend.”
“I know, but maybe I can convince her,” my mom says.
“Yeah, maybe.” Celeste shrugs.
“You know, when I spoke to Dedra, she mentioned a few locations that have availability. She thinks the Seversky Mansion might even have an opening for a summer wedding.”
“This summer?” I choke out. My throat feels like it’s tightening and blocking my airflow.
“Yes, Nicholas. This summer.” My mom shoots me a hard glare.
“I thought we were going to do a longer engagement,” I mention to Celeste, who is now shooting daggers my way. I guess the excitement over the gifts has worn off.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Celeste asks. She raises one brow, challenging me to lie to her…or maybe to admit the truth. The problem is I don’t know what answer would be a lie or the truth.
“Can we please talk about this when you get back?” I ask. “I really need to head over to Olivia’s to discuss this paternity situation.”
Celeste nods once. “Of course.” The hurt that comes through in her voice is evident, and I hate that I’m the reason she’s hurting, but I don’t know how to fix any of this.
“Don’t be like that.” I attempt to grab her hand as she turns to walk away, but she yanks her hand out of my reach. “I’l
l see you when you get back,” I say to her as she walks down the hall toward our room.
She ignores me, and knowing how stubborn she is, I don’t attempt to apologize. Instead, I say goodbye to my mom and then head out.
Nine
Olivia
“Do you think the couch would look better against this wall?” Giselle points to the wall across from the fireplace. “Or maybe this wall?” She points to the wall adjacent to the one she just pointed to. We’ve been settled into our brownstone in Brooklyn Heights for close to a month, but I’m beginning to think Giselle will never be settled with our décor. We put up a small Christmas tree in the corner, and now that it’s gone, Giselle’s back to rearranging our furniture. The woman didn’t even wait until New Year’s Day to take the tree down.
When I found this brownstone online, she insisted we keep all the furnishings in our flat in Paris there. She claimed it was because she didn’t want us to spend the money shipping it all to New York, but we both knew she just needed an excuse to decorate while she’s job hunting. With a bachelor’s and master’s degree in Interior Design, my best friend better know everything there is to know about decorating a place. Who even knew you could go to school for six years to learn how to decorate a room?
“I think it should stay right where it is.” And yes, my answer has everything to do with the fact that I’m currently sitting on the couch in question. Giselle pops her hip out and glares, knowing me way too well. I laugh, setting Reed down in his bassinet.
Her phone beeps indicating an incoming text. When she looks at it, her face lights up.
“Christian?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She grins, typing something back. “I just can’t believe we’re back together again.”
“Why? Because he’s a famous musician now?”
“No…well, yeah, I guess that’s a little bit of it.” She giggles, throwing herself onto the couch next to me. “I’m just so happy. You would think after not seeing each other for six years, it would be awkward. But it’s not. It’s like we picked right back up where we left off all those years ago. It just feels so surreal, like any moment I’ll wake up and it will all have been a dream. When I left to Paris, I honestly never thought we would be together again, and I had accepted that, you know? Christian needed to follow his dreams, and I needed to chase mine.”
“But you guys found your way back to each other. You deserve to be happy.” Giselle doesn’t talk often of her home life, but from the little bit she’s mentioned over the years, she didn’t have it easy growing up.
“I know, but sometimes I feel guilty.”
"You can’t feel guilty for living your life. Your mom has your dad, and it’s his job as her husband to help her. You visit all the time, and you’re there for your sister. You can’t do it all.”
“I know. I know you’re right, but it doesn’t stop me from still feeling that way.”
“Well stop feeling that way!” I pull Giselle into a hug. “You know if you ever need anything I’m here, right?”
“You do enough, but yes, I know. Thank you.”
“I’m going to take a quick shower before we head out to brunch. Can you keep an eye on little man?”
“Of course.”
Yesterday was Christmas, but because my dad was away for a game, we’re all getting together today to celebrate. As I stand, the buzzer goes off indicating someone is downstairs, so I press the button. “Hello?”
“I have a certified letter for Olivia Harper to sign.”
“Okay.” I buzz him in.
“Paternity results?” Giselle questions.
“I’m sure.” I roll my eyes as I walk to the door to wait for him so he doesn’t knock and wake up Reed. We’re on the third floor, so the courier will have to take the elevator up. When I see him walking down the hall, I notice he’s not alone. Cole—shit, I mean Nick—is with him, and holy hell does he look hot. He’s standing to the side of the courier in a baby blue collared Lacoste shirt that fits his arms and chest way too well, distressed jeans, and a pair of Nikes. The guy definitely knows how to do casual—No! No! I will not go there. He’s a dumbass who doesn’t even want his own baby and that makes him ugly as fuck, NOT hot.
“Hand delivering your own paternity results?” I say to give him attitude, and he actually has the nerve to sneer at me.
“He was coming up at the same time I was, so I tagged along.” His lips contort into a fuck you kind of smile that has me wanting to slap the smirk right off his too good-looking face.
“Next time, buzz.” He gives me a confused look. “That way I can deny you access,” I explain. He hits me with a hard glare, and I shoot one right back.
“Real mature,” he mutters. I ignore his jab and take the envelope from the poor kid who looks unsure of what to do. I show him my identification and sign, then give him a tip. He thanks me and scurries off. Smart kid…
Before I can invite Nick in, he takes it upon himself to walk through my door. “Sure…come on in.” I slam the door behind me in frustration and immediately regret it when Reed starts whimpering. “Damn it.”
“What’s he doing here?” Giselle hisses, her nose scrunched up in disgust. Have I mentioned how much I love my best friend who totally has my back?
“I’m the dad,” Nick states matter-of-factly.
“No, you’re the sperm donor,” Giselle lobbies back. “A dad is a man who claims his baby and cares for him. You simply shot your load into her vagina. X plus Y equals baby. You’re the sperm donor, not Reed’s father.”
Nick lets out an annoyed huff, and I stifle a laugh. Reed’s cries quiet back down, telling me he’s fallen back asleep. “Would you like something to drink?” I ask Nick, my manners winning out over my desire to tell him to go jump off the GE building. He shakes his head, and I head to the kitchen to grab myself a bottle of water. Untwisting the cap, I chug half the bottle down, dying of thirst. Giselle and I just finished doing some yoga. I’ve been doing it since I was a little girl with my mom. It’s a great stress reliever, and a good way to slowly begin to get my body back in shape. I’m still in my workout clothes, and I’m hot and sweaty.
When I walk back out to the living room, Giselle is standing near the bassinet looking like a human watch dog, and Nick is on the other side. “Everything okay?” I come up next to Nick, and he’s looking down at Reed sleeping.
He clears his throat and steps back. “You named him Reed?”
“Yes, Reed Cameron Harper.” I make it a point to place emphasis on the fact our son has my last name. “Reed is my dad’s middle name, and Cameron was my mom’s.” He nods, and we both stand here staring at each other. I don’t know what to say, and he’s not saying anything either.
“Why are you here?” Giselle asks, breaking the silence. Nick ignores her question, glancing back down at Reed. Giselle and I lock eyes, and I shrug.
“I’m going to shower,” she says, but it comes out more like a question, asking me if I want to be alone with Nick.
“Okay.” I give her a tight smile. Once she’s down the hall, I turn to Nick. “Why are you here?” I repeat Giselle’s question, only this time he doesn’t ignore it.
“I never thought I would become a dad.”
“I never thought I would get pregnant from my one and only one-night stand.” I lean against the arm of my sofa, not leaving Reed’s side.
“I really thought we used protection.”
“Look”—I tilt my head toward our sleeping baby and give Nick a sarcastic grin—“it really doesn’t matter now. I’m assuming the results state you’re the father.”
“Yeah.”
“Great, glad we got that sorted out without having to go on Maury.”
Nick sighs in frustration, his eyes briefly closing. When he opens them, he hits me with a hard stare. The bright green in his eyes remind me of the fresh green grass in Central Park, the first sign of spring and warmth after a long, cold, white winter. Reed has his eyes. They’re still dark since he’s a new
born, but the emerald is already shining through.
I should say something, but I don’t. I refuse to make this easy for him. I didn’t ask to get knocked up, but here I am with a baby. I don’t regret having my son. I love him with every fiber of my being. But I didn’t plan or ask for this. My life has completely changed while Nick’s has remained the same. Every day I live in fear I’m going to mess up my son’s life. Make the wrong decision. What if he one day blames me because he doesn’t have a dad? Being a new mother is a lot of work. I’m exhausted. I’m emotionally and mentally drained. I’m doing the best I can, but I’m scared my best won’t be good enough.
“I don’t know what to say, Liv,” he finally says, using the name I gave him, and I have to force myself not to go back to that night all those months ago. When everything between us clicked. When his kisses alone had the ability to drive me insane.
“You don’t have to say anything, Nick.” This is so freaking awkward. You would never know less than a year ago, the man standing in front of me fucked me just about every way possible and then held me in his arms while we talked for hours.
“I wouldn’t make a good dad.” His lips turndown into a frown, and the sadness in his voice has my heart tightening. My natural instinct is to reach over and comfort him, tell him he can do it, just like I would with one of my art students when I give classes and they feel like they’re failing. When they’re afraid they can’t draw or paint good enough. But I don’t because he’s not a student or a child, and it’s not my job to comfort him. My job is to care for Reed, and if Nick doesn’t want to be his dad, that’s his choice. There’s a reason why adoption is an option. Not everybody is cut out to be a parent.