Hothead (Irresistible Book 4)

by Stella Rhys

  “I know you hate the idea of needing time, but give Drew a little more of it,” Aly said. “Look at those texts he sends you. You know he feels the same way about you. He just has a shit ton of mental blocks because of… whatever reasons. Reasons I’m sure you know by now.”

  I bit my lip and blushed as I looked up at her.

  “Yep. You do. He’s told you everything he never even told Emmett, hasn’t he?” Aly laughed, shaking her head.

  “Maybe.”

  “And you won’t even tell me what his deep dark secrets are because you love him! Oh my God,” Aly exclaimed incredulously as I covered my giggling face with my hands. “Evie. You two are so in love with you it’s ridiculous. You realize what this means right?”

  “That your test results are ready and you can stop giving me a hard time now?”

  “I was going to say that the four of us are about to have double dates like it’s our jobs, but sure, yes, let’s go see if I’m pregnant.” Aly jumped up to her feet so fast I had to laugh. It was so clear to me that she desperately wanted this baby – she was just trying to find reasons to be nervous about it because that was just the way we were.

  When things were too perfect, we questioned it.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God.”

  “What? What?” I giggled excitedly, running into the bathroom to find Aly standing there holding the pregnancy test on the right – the one I’d taken with her in solidarity.

  “Evie...” My heart thumped against my ribs as she turned to me with wide eyes. I shook my head, denying her two words before she could even say them to me. “You’re pregnant.”

  34

  EVIE

  Waiting for Drew to come home to New York was a unique kind of torture. It was like an emotional purgatory in which I constantly told myself that maybe Aly was right, and things could turn out just fine. Actually, the mental limbo was a whole lot like the one I’d been steeped in the first night I met Drew – when I was still trying to figure out where I stood with Mike.

  God.

  That name was like a foreign language to me at this point. Once upon a time, it represented my world. Now, it couldn’t be more of an afterthought because not only was I in love with Drew Maddox, I was carrying his child.

  It was so unreal to me that I kept bursting into tears without warning.

  Because the truth was that as completely unexpected as this was, I wanted this child. With Aly, I’d taken several more tests to confirm it, but by the second one, I had already made up my mind on the matter.

  I was going to be a mother in about nine months, and nothing anyone said was going to change that. I wanted my own family. I wanted a son or a daughter whom I could shower with all I love I missed from my own mom.

  With the Empires game playing in the living room, I stood against the kitchen counter, cradling my belly in my arms and crying again when I imagined the life this child could have with both of his parents.

  In my imagination, it was idyllic and perfect. In my mind, I vividly pictured an emerald-eyed little boy playing catch with a father he worshipped and adored. I imagined us sitting with ice cream on the couch, watching Daddy on TV.

  I imagined a lot of things that deep in my heart, I didn’t think were going to happen.

  Yet at the same time, I held out hope.

  It wasn’t purgatory, actually – it was hell. And by the time I heard that elevator humming up to the penthouse, I was at the edge of my sanity. As I waited for Drew, I fought my own negativity with all the mights and maybes that Aly had fed me with.

  Maybe he’ll be excited to be a father.

  He might be craving the stability.

  Maybe this will be his push to realize that he loves you.

  When the elevator doors finally opened, I was standing in the middle of the kitchen with my breath hitched in my throat.

  As usual, Drew’s eyes found me immediately, and just like that, those steely eyes I had watched all night on TV warmed over. When he smiled, I felt the emotion well in my chest.

  “Hey, you,” he said, sounding that distinct kind of post-game tired that I’d come to love so damned much. I closed my eyes as he floated over to me, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight as he murmured into my neck about how much he missed me.

  I closed my eyes as I melted into his embrace, my breaths becoming hiccups as I fantasized that he felt two heartbeats pressed against him instead of just one.

  “Baby. What’s going on?” Drew pulled away, frowning when he caught the look in my eyes. He brushed back the hair from my face. “Evie. Did something happen?” he asked, his tone hardening as if he was already preparing to take care of something or someone. When I shook my head, he thumbed a tear from my cheek. “Then what is it, Evie? Tell me so I can fix it.”

  My heart twisted at his words, and I gazed up at him. He was so damned gorgeous as he searched me with those sparkling green eyes. He looked so full of warmth and love and concern, and all these things I’d never have expected to see in his face before.

  I told myself it could be fine. I repeated it a thousand times in my head before just blurting it out.

  “Drew, I’m pregnant.”

  My heart promptly broke when his hand dropped from my cheek. I forced myself not to cry as I watched him immediately step back.

  “Evie. What are you talking about?” He looked at me like I had lost my mind. “That’s not possible. We used protection every time.”

  “I – I don’t know…” I trailed off, realizing I’d never paused to wonder how this could have happened. “I don’t know how it happened, Drew. Maybe a condom broke. I don’t know. All I know is that I took a pregnancy test as a joke with Aly, and before I knew what was happening, she was telling me that I’m the one who’s pregnant.”

  Drew stood a full two steps back now as he stared at me. I felt my pulse rising with every second of silence that passed – with every second that his gaze returned from warm to steely.

  “Don’t you dare look at me like that,” I hissed.

  “Like what.”

  “Like I’m just another person in your life you can’t trust. Don’t you dare look at me like I somehow planned this, Drew.”

  “That’s not how I’m looking at you.”

  “It is,” I seethed, the knife in my heart twisting as Drew fell silent, not even bothering to deny it any further. I let a tear fall as he turned away from me, palming the top of his head as he stared at the wall. I watched him shake his head, as if he refused to believe this.

  This nightmare.

  “You think this is easy for me, Drew?” I whispered. “I agonized for days about this. A part of me knew you were going to react exactly like this, and it’s been eating at me for so long that all I want right now is for you to hold me. I just want you to hug me again and say you can fix this, but you won’t. Right?” I demanded, my voice trembling and the tears falling as I watched him stand there coldly.

  It was silent for so long, but when he finally spoke, I wished he hadn’t.

  “This wasn’t part of the plan, Evie.”

  Ouch.

  I hadn’t thought this could hurt more, but apparently Drew wasn’t finished.

  “A lot of things haven’t been a part of the plan,” I replied shakily. “I wasn’t supposed to fall for you, and I did. You weren’t supposed to care about me, and you do. This baby wasn’t supposed to happen, but he’s here.” Drew shot me a look. “She’s here. Whatever it is, it’s not going anywhere.”

  “You want this baby?” Drew asked.

  I stared at him.

  Four words and I was officially shattered. To pieces. Because it was clear to me at this point that we were done here.

  I wanted our child, Drew didn’t, and that was that.

  “Where are you going?” he asked when I turned to go upstairs. I was numb at this point, and I barely recognized my own voice as I answered.

  “I’m going to sleep, Drew.”

  “Go to my room.”

&
nbsp; “No,” I replied harshly, though a part of me held out hope that he’d stop me – or that he’d sneak into my room, lift me out of my bed, and bring me to his.

  I held out hope the entire night.

  But in the morning, when I woke up in my own bed in the guest room, I lost that last naïve dash of faith.

  And with a glance at my empty bags by the closet, I knew what was left for me to do.

  35

  EVIE

  There were more boarded up buildings than the last time I was here. That much was for sure.

  Whether it was houses or storefronts, half the buildings that were once occupied no longer were. At this point, Belfield just felt like a long stretch of marshland with a road, some old billboards and dusty bus stops.

  But if any one thing stayed the same, it was bearded Kurt who worked at the gas station where I picked up my mom’s lotto tickets. He was in his fifties the last I saw him. Now he was in his sixties and he still wore suspenders and the same Patriots cap that was so faded now it was grey.

  “Just so you know, Missy Remsen said her daughter didn’t say those things. I think those reporters – they just make up lies,” he said as he rang up the Snapple I threw in there for Mom as well.

  “They definitely do,” I said to keep it simple.

  The last thing on my mind was what my high school classmates said to the media or not. But that was all Kurt and I had to talk about when I came here before going to Mom’s.

  I didn’t stay right in Belfield, let alone in Mom’s house. I rented a car and booked a motel a few towns over. I told myself that if I wasn’t sleeping in that house, I was still being somewhat responsible.

  Because the reality was that I knew it wasn’t smart to be here.

  But I was distraught like I’d never been in my life, and I just needed to be in my mom’s arms. I needed to feel her combing her fingers through my hair like she did when I was little, and saying, “Mommy’s got you. Everything’s going to be alright.”

  I needed the given of that comfort, even if I knew it would be short-lived. Even if it would blow up in my face in a month, a week or maybe even tomorrow. At some point, the novelty of my being home would fade. The stress would be hard to ignore, and Mom would begin picking fights about my absence all these years.

  Kaylie would act up. She was already resenting the fact that I’d showed up, spending a lot of time with friends while I was around during the day, and screaming at Mom at night once I left.

  There was no way in hell things wouldn’t blow up between us. She would steal from me or hit me. Maybe pick a fight about the money I was spending on a motel, or perhaps go missing for days. She would hate that my pregnancy took Mom’s full attention away from her, and she would do something drastic to get it back.

  She’d done it before and I knew she’d do it again.

  So I wasn’t sure if I was walking on thin ice or in a minefield, but either way, I was bound to be miserable in the near future, and I was bound to be putting this baby through stress it didn’t need.

  But right now, I needed the comfort. My brain was in shambles, and all I could do was cry and feel scared or guilty – guilty mostly for what I’d done to Aly.

  For two days, I’d let myself stay with her and Emmett in their East Hampton home, and as much as Aly took care of me before and after work, or kept me hidden and doted upon in the office of our restaurant, I could see her being constantly worried about me. I could feel myself bringing her down and considering she was supposed to be enjoying real post engagement bliss, I couldn’t continue to cry to her about the fact that Drew had clearly made up his mind about us, since he hadn’t so much as texted since the morning I left. I could feel myself drowning her, and it made me feel like the most needy, selfish person in the world.

  So I came here to Mom.

  I called her to tell her why I was coming home before I did, so the second I walked through those doors, all she did was hug me.

  “It’s a blessing, and everything’s going to be alright,” she whispered before burying a kiss in my hair.

  It was simple yet exactly what I needed and wanted to hear.

  So for three days now, I was picking up scratch-offs and OJ or Snapple for her in the morning, chatting a second with Kurt, driving straight to the house, and spending the day with her on the couch. We’d watch daytime talk shows while looking at her old boxes of photos on the couch. Kaylie would pop in and out, say something either neutral or hostile to me, and Mom would whisper, “She’s just adjusting,” to me and give either a little eye roll or a squeeze of my hand.

  Most curiously, she’d pay Kaylie very little mind before turning back to me, trying to get me to look at a picture of when I was baby wearing pink and purple socks she knitted, and talking about how we should perhaps start knitting.

  For the first time in a long time, I had her attention back.

  And it felt good.

  “When did you start showing?” I asked as we settled into the couch today.

  “I started showing with you when I was nine weeks, so good luck with that,” Mom snorted, patting a gentle hand on my tummy. “Whole town’s gonna know soon ‘cause of Kaylie’s mouth anyway. Did Kurt try to convince you to forgive the Remsens today?”

  “Sure did,” I managed a smirk as I jammed my thumb on the old remote to turn on the TV. It took about seven tries.

  “That ass. Don’t let him worry you about that. You got enough on your mind, sweetheart,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Tell him you’re busy making ten fingers and ten toes, for Chrissake! And they’re probably gonna be big ones, considering.”

  Considering.

  She knew well that Drew was the father. I wouldn’t confirm it to her, simply because I felt wary – and then guilty about feeling wary – carrying a millionaire’s baby into the town of Belfield. My overactive mind pictured people hearing that I was pregnant by Drew Maddox and suddenly showing up to tell me to get him in court, to get that child support.

  It was the last thing I wanted to think of right now.

  And thankfully, Mom didn’t press. Much to my relief, she said, “If Daddy ain’t in the picture, we don’t need him, honey. When did the Larsen girls ever need a man?”

  “Never,” I had said, sounding convincing enough for her to beam at me.

  But I was lying to myself that day and I was lying to myself now as I thought about what Mom said. Because I couldn’t help imagining the incredibly torturous image of Drew Maddox – happy, smiling and sitting next to me at the hospital, helping me count those ten fingers and ten toes.

  36

  DREW

  “Drew, you were already coming off a bad loss in Cleveland on Monday, and tonight’s performance was obviously no better. Six innings. Six earned runs. Can you tell us what might be behind the offensive meltdowns in this two-game losing streak? Perhaps the flare-up of an old injury or… distractions in your personal life?”

  And there it is.

  There was always one reporter that got tired of my well-practiced stoicism during my post-game interviews. Win or lose, I didn’t give the press much to work with because no matter what I said, it was twisted and used against me. So I stuck with the usual responses.

  My focus tonight wasn’t a hundred percent. There are no excuses. Next game.

  Since those words weren’t easy to twist into some juicy headline, there was always some asshole who started prodding me with scumbag questions, just to see if he could get a fed-up reaction to turn into a good sound bite.

  But even tonight – even after the stress of the past five days – I refused to give the little shit the satisfaction of my anger. So without a flicker of expression on my face, I lied straight to his.

  “Physically, I’m a hundred percent. My personal life couldn’t be better. As far as the seventh inning goes, it was just a loss of focus.”

  Lie. It was more so Emmett’s text about Evie.

  “But what was the cause of the loss of focus?” the asshole p
ressed on.

  The fact that he told me there “might be an emergency” and to meet him after the game ASAP, I thought furiously as my lips gave a different answer.

  “I think I let myself get hung up on what I thought was a bad call from the umpire. It took me out mentally for just long enough to do offensive damage. I definitely won’t let it happen again.”

  And after that sufficiently bland answer, the interview wrapped. Though of course, that didn’t stop one reporter from calling to me, “Might be time to start bringing your lucky charm again.”

  The prick looked at me for a reaction – perhaps some flinch or grimace to give away the fact that I hadn’t seen Evie, my media-dubbed “good luck charm”, in almost a week. He was hawking me for something, anything, but I gave him nothing because the reality was, it had only been five days.

  Five days since the morning I woke up and she was gone.

  I couldn’t say I was surprised that morning because I’d expected her to leave. I had driven her away with my reaction, and I knew that. In fact, a part of me knew it would as the words this wasn’t part of the plan were coming out. It was an undeniable piece of shit thing to say, and I knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  But it was my cynical asshole nature coming back to protect me from what she had told me.

  Pregnant.

  I still couldn’t believe it.

  It was the word I’d been trained to fear since the day I came into the league. For Christ’s sake, there were official league training videos we were required to watch as rookies, just to protect us from women who were after our money.

  These women want child support from you. They’ll poke holes into condoms. Always bring your own rubbers. Never get a girl pregnant.

  In my heart, I knew Evie hadn’t poked a fucking hole in a condom. I knew she wasn’t swindling me out of some desperate need for money.

  But at the same time, I forced myself to question her. She’d reversed a good amount, but she hadn’t gotten rid of all my doubt and cynicism – the side of me that believed that every person in the world had a price. There was at least a sliver of that side of me left, and it reminded me of what Iain’s girlfriend Keira had said the night of Emmett and Aly’s engagement dinner.