The fear in her eyes guts me. She’s been carrying this all by herself because she didn’t think she could count on me. But, even worse, she doesn’t believe she can count on herself.
I own my part in this. Those offhand comments about not wanting kids. The interviews where I’ve said football is my only priority. She believed all that. And the truth is, I meant it at the time.
But this changes everything.
“We had sex last night.” The sudden realization feels like being dunked in an ice bath.
“We did,” she agrees, likeno shit, Sherlock.
“What if I hurt the baby?”
She blinks. “Um…how?”
I throw my hands up. “You know.”
“I don’t.”
I thrust my hips forward a couple of times. “Youknow.”
Her lips twitch and she coughs to try to cover her laugh, which is such a big improvement over sad Piper that I don’t even care that she’s laughing at me. “You didn’t hurt the baby with your giant elephant trunk of a?—”
“I’m being serious, Piper.”
“So am I.” Now she’s grinning outright, which is possibly the most baffling thing that’s happened in this already confusing morning. “The baby is fine, Felix. Perfectly cushioned and protected. You can’t hurt it by...you know.”
“You’re sure?” I know she’s a nurse and all, but still…
“I’m sure.”
I massage a hand along the back of my neck and draw in a long breath, still trying to process everything.
“I’m going to be a dad.”
“Yep.”
“You’re having my baby.”
“We’ve established that, Barlowe.”
“When are you due?” My brain can’t do that math right now.
“Around the third week of January.”
Seven months away. And smack in the middle of playoff season—not that I’m going to mention that not-so-small detail right now. I thought being traded to Denver was a big change, but this is…
I sink down onto the edge of the bed, head spinning and knees weak, like I’m the one who needs attention. She’s still got thecovers pulled up nearly to her chin, watching me with those soft hazel eyes, and I can see the doubt start to resurface.
Shit. My intention isn’t to add to Piper’s already overflowing plate of worry, yet I can’t seem to figure out how to ease her fears when mine are coming at me like a defensive lineman.
I run both hands through my hair, gripping hard enough that it almost hurts. “I need a minute. This is—” I gesture helplessly. “I don’t know what to say next.” Let alone what to do.
“I get it.” Her voice is gentle now, and somehow that makes it worse. “It’s a lot to process.”
“Yeah.” My brain cells seem to be whirring around in a blender. “I just need?—”
“Fee! Fee!” Ellie’s cry cuts through the monitor on my dresser, getting louder with each shout. “Pi! Up!”
Piper and I freeze, staring at each other, and the king-size guest bed might as well be an ocean between us.
