Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
His eyes go wide. “Oh, hell. We’re gonna need beer, aren’t we?”
I nod. “We should probably do this at the bar.”
Shay
I’m officially avoiding my apartment. I started packing it up yesterday in an emotional rush of energy. Even if I planned to stay in Jackson Harbor, and I don’t, I’d have to leave my tiny third-floor walk-up. It won’t be practical with a baby, never mind that it only has one bedroom.
I go to Teagan’s and smile when she opens the door. “Can I hang for a while?”
“Always.”
“Want to order in? I think I’m officially past the no-appetite part of this pregnancy and into the clichéd cravings part.”
“I . . .” Her gaze shifts to the living room just beyond the foyer.
And that’s the moment when I realize Teagan isn’t home alone. In the living room, Carter stops with a beer halfway to his lips. And halfway between me and the couch, Easton stands paralyzed, staring at me in wide-eyed shock.
“Easton’s here,” she says quietly. “Nic took both girls to gymnastics.”
Shit. I wasn’t ready for this yet. I might not ever be.
I turn around and open the door she just closed, pushing outside onto the porch.
“You sonofabitch!” I hear Carter say behind me. “I listened to your whole damn sob story, and now you’re telling me you got my sister pregnant?”
I close the door before I can hear Easton’s response. The porch swing is either too high or I’m too short, because my feet dangle a good foot off the ground as I let the swing rock me back and forth.
When the door opens again, I look up expecting to see Teagan, but it’s Easton stepping out onto the porch with me. Easton, who doesn’t want to raise another man’s baby again. Easton, who just wants a simple life where he can focus on his daughter and avoid all the drama.
He studies the spot next to me, and whether because of my mood or because he can’t stomach the thought of being that close to me right now, he seems to think better of sitting there and leans against the porch rail instead. His jaw ticks as he stares at me. “You’re pregnant.”
I nod jerkily.
“And it’s not . . .”
I shake my head. I wish it were Easton’s. The thought takes me back to when I was twenty years old and so immature, trying to wish myself pregnant so maybe he’d choose me over Scarlett. But of course, I wasn’t. Easton was always too careful for that.
He pivots and faces the street. Good. Maybe this’ll be easier if I can’t see his face. Even if . . . even if watching him turn his back on me shakes me at my fault lines.
“I didn’t know until this week,” I say. I cannot stand the idea of him thinking even for a minute that I’m like his ex-wife—that I would have deceived him the way she did.
“That’s why you asked, though,” he says. “Monday . . . when you asked if I’d make the same choice.”
I swallow. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, and I don’t blame you. I’m leaving for the airport in the morning.”
He spins to face me. “What?”
“For the interview in L.A.”
“Your brother’s getting married on Saturday.”
That’s what he’s worried about? That I’ll miss the wedding? “I’ll be home in time for the family dinner Friday night, no worries.”
“I mean . . . You’ve put family first. You decided to stay, and now you’re gonna run away and leave them all behind?”
I don’t want to talk about moving away from my family. I just . . . can’t. I shrug uselessly.
“Does he know?”
“He knows.”
“And is he going to L.A. with you?”
“No.” Does he think that’s how this works? That if I can’t have him, I’ll take George, despite the lies? Despite the fact that my heart belongs to Easton? My thoughts muddle and blur, and the world around me seems hazy. “All I know is I have to have a way to take care of this baby. I have to make that my priority.”
He closes his eyes. “By moving to L.A.”
“There are some things that aren’t clear to me, but I want to be a mom. This baby was unexpected and unplanned but not unwanted.”
“How can you say that when he is the father? He was married and slept with you.”
“So were you!” I push myself off the swing. I shouldn’t have come here. But one thing is clear. I have to move. Because I don’t think I can survive seeing Easton all the time and knowing he’ll never be mine.
“Were you going to tell me?”
“I should’ve told you the second you opened your door on Monday. I know that. I just . . .” What excuse do I have? I wanted one more time with you? I didn’t think my heart would survive losing you a third time?