She helps me to sit, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I…umm…wow. I can’t believe this.”
“Keep breathing,” she instructs while continuing to rub my back.
Once the room stops spinning, I blurt out, “I need to go.”
“Tell me what I can do to help,” she offers.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I really have to go.” I stand and look at her. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“Of course not.” She squeezes my arm one last time. “Don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here for you. You don’t have to do this alone. You have plenty of people who care about you.”
I nod robotically, still in shock. “Thank you.”
I practically sprint to my car. Do I buy a pregnancy test first, or do I tell Daylen first? I don’t need a pregnancy test to tell me I’m pregnant. I know in my core that I am. Besides being uncharacteristically late for my period, I’ve had obvious symptoms recently. I’ve been tired, my breasts are tender and bigger, I’ve had some lightheadedness, and the sciatica. Not to mention I’ve been horny as hell. I had assumed that was because of the dry spell, but it’s very clearly the potential pregnancy. How could I have been so blind?
TWENTY-TWO
DAYLEN
Ijump high into the air and catch the ball at practice before my feet fall back down for the completion. I’m immediately tackled hard to the ground by a giant linebacker falling on top of me. Fuck, that hurt.
I writhe around a bit, and some of the guys chuckle at my dramatics. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little. I tend to do that at times.
In actual pain, I’m a tad slow to get up, and Coach shouts, “You good, Humblecut?”
Isn’t that a loaded question. Physically, I’m fine. Mentally, I’m a mess. I miss her. I’m with her three times a week and still miss her. Because when we’re together, it’s as if we’re not. She’s so distant. I think I preferred it when we hated each other because the fire was there. I have no read on her. She’s stoic, so I try to be the same way. I honestly don’t know if I can make it through the rest of the year like this.
As I’ve reflected on our time together, I realized I was starting to fall for her. I’m not sure how or when it happened,but it did. And this iciness between us is messing with my head and hurting my heart.
I pretend that all is good in my world and nod. “I’m good, Coach,” I wheeze as I spit a little blood.
“At least your teammates laughed,” he says. “You know you’re getting old if you go down hard in front of people and they panic instead of laughing. If I went down like that, they’d call the paramedics before bothering to check on me.”
I chuckle. “Valid point, Coach.”
I return to the huddle, and Vance looks at me. “All good?”
“As good as strippers when a bunch of drunk, wealthy frat boys walk into a club after having visited an ATM.”
He cracks a small smile. “Nice catch.”
I lick my fingertips and then circle them in the air. “A tongue and finger combo isn’t just for flipping the pages of a book.”
His smile widens while he simultaneously rolls his eyes and calls the next play.
As practice draws to a close, the team of trainers ask to examine my ribs. I remove my shirt, and they immediately wince. “D, you’re all bruised. We should get them X-rayed.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m fine. It’s tackle football. Bruises happen. They’re not broken. Trust me, I would know.” I’ve broken my ribs countless times. It’s extremely painful—a hell of a lot more pain than I’m feeling now.
They instruct me to come get ice from them after I shower, which I assure them I will.
Before I head to the showers, I open my locker and pull out my phone to see if I missed any calls or texts while at practice. I see a notification of a text from Kennedy.
Wifey: Need to talk. Rang your doorbell, but I guess you’re not home. That, or you’re ignoring me. Heading through your gate to the backyard. I’ll wait for you by the pool. It’s important.
The pool? Shit. BJ has access to that area. She’s going to eat Kennedy.
I quickly call Kennedy’s cell to warn her, but there’s no answer. Oh my god, what if BJ already hurt her? Images flash through my mind of Kennedy lying on the ground in my backyard, bloody and injured, with BJ’s mouth around her throat.
