“Ex,” I grind out, arms trembling as they hold Blake.
“Excuse me?”
“Ex,” I repeat. “Emmett is yourex-husband.”
Again, that doesn’t deter her. If anything, she’s bolstered by her own judgmental words. “Ex or not, I think I know Emmett better than anyone else on this planet.”
“I highly doubt that.” The words are out before I can stop them.
“Oh, really?” She braces herself on her elbows again, dropping her voice to a low rumble. “Well, riddle me this then, Billie. If he’s so damn serious about you, why hasn’t he come forward to your parents before now?”
If I tell her that Emmett plans to do exactly that in a matter of hours, I’ll blow this whole thing out of the water.
“I think it’s best if you stop talking, Maria,” I politely reply.
She waves a hand in front of her as a satisfied grin overtakes her face. “Ah, you don’t need to worry about that anyway. I already had a good talk with your father just before we arrived here.” Maria winces, like she’s pained on our behalf. “After I saw you both, I sat in my feelings for a while, convinced that myex-husband couldn’t be stupid enough to go there with our best friends’ daughter.” When she sucks a breath through her teeth, her victorious smile only grows wider as she pushes back her chair and unhooks her purse from the back of it. “But then I got to thinking about how I’d want to know if that was my daughter who was being made a fool of.” She looks at me like she genuinely cares about my feelings. “It’s a terrible thing to take advantage of an impressionable young woman who just got out of a bad relationship and is left holding the baby.” Pressing a palm to her sternum, she delivers a final line. “In the end, I concluded that, as a longtime family friend, it was my duty to raise the alarm.”
With that, she turns on her heel and makes for the restroom.
A shaky hand rummages through Blake’s diaper bag, and I pull out my phone and hit Call on Emmett’s number, praying that his practice is over.
My heart sinks when I’m connected with his voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me.” My voice is as shaky as my hands. “Listen, I think we have a problem. I’m out for breakfast with Maria and Mom and …” I force back tears. “Maria saw us that day in your parking lot before we headed to the Catskills. Sh-she told Dad about us—or at least what she saw. So, I just need you to be aware that Maria has already put a lot of ideas in his head this morning.” Despite my best efforts, the first tear hits Blake’s onesie. “She made it out like you’d been taking advantage of me, Em. I think this could be really bad, and I’m so fucking sorry.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
EMMETT
Coach Morgan granting me an extended rest period has worked wonders for my knee, although you wouldn’t have believed it with the way I played in practice.
I’ve never been this nervous in my life, which is understandable, given the conversation I plan to have with Scott and Freya later today.
The inner coward in me wanted to suggest to Billie that we hit the road from the Catskills and never return to Brooklyn, even if disappearing wouldn’t make our lives any easier—or happier—without Scott and Freya being a part of it.
“What’s going on, man?” Archer pauses halfway out the exit of the training rink as Jack and Tommy keep walking toward their trucks on the far side of the parking lot.
I choose to keep my eyes on them rather than my goalie. “You were right with what you said; I am in love with Billie.”
Initial excitement turns to concern, and my teammate bites his lip. “So, there’s only one route forward.”
Fate sealed, I nod my head once. “Let’s be honest, buddy. There was only ever going to be one outcome.”
Scratching the back of his neck, Archer doesn’t argue. “What’s your next move?”
Eyes still on Jack and Tommy as they laugh and joke around beside their parked trucks, I swallow thickly. “Get in my car and drive to her parents’ place. They should both be home since Freya doesn’t usually work today and Scott is still off from work.”
An ominous silence falls between us until Archer breaks it. “What’s the worst-case scenario?”
I shrug and go to answer right before the sound of screeching tires cuts me off.
Arms up in the air, Jack motions for the driver to slow down, but I know there’s zero chance of this car hitting the brakes. Not before it collides with me.
“I think we’re about to find out,” I quietly reply, pointing at Shelby and knowing that there can only be one person behind the wheel, even if he shouldn’t be driving yet.
As the car skids to a halt around twenty feet in front of me, I know that Scott found out before I got the chance to tell him. And as he swings his car door open and stalks toward me, a profound limp slowing him to an average pace, I brace myself for the panic to set in.
“Hey! Whoa there, Scott. Let’s …” Archer lowers his hands in tandem, asking my best friend to take a moment. “Let’s just calm down, shall we?”
