“Can we afford that?” Mom’s voice is soft and low.
Another wave of nausea washes through my stomach. Of course they can’t afford random meals out. My parents now have to support me and a whole new person in a matter of weeks. Along with converting their spare room into a nursery which won’t be a cheap expense if I decide to live at home once the baby outgrows their bassinet.
“I have it covered,” Dad quietly replies.
It’s like they think I’m not listening or I can’t hear their exchange.
“I’m right here, you know? You can’t talk around me like I’m still a child and I won’t figure out that the conversation is really about me.”
I look between them both. They don’t deserve my anger and frustration to be pointed at them. Still, it flows from me in waves.
Dad runs a hand through his brown hair and glances at Mom as she plucks one of her dark strands from my green sweater dress.
“Do you want to go to Miguel’s?” she asks.
When my phone vibrates in my lap, I flip it over to see another worried message from Clara.
“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to sleep,” is all I say, standing from the bed and massaging my lower back.
Mom rises and pulls back the duvet, exchanging another look with Dad that, once again, they don’t think I notice.
“Okay, Bill,” she says, helping me out of my dress when I try to pull it overhead and struggle.
I hear the soft click of my door as Dad leaves the room, and I turn back to Mom, swallowing down another onslaught of upset.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” I ask her, confident that she’ll know I’m referring to Tucker.
She helps me out of my tights and sets my clothes on a chair in the corner of the room. I can’t remember the last time Mom tucked me into bed, but I accept the comfort and safety it brings.
“I don’t want you to give any more energy to Tucker or what he may or may not do next. It’s pointless, trying to control what men—and especially guys like him—do.”
I note the way she saidhim. She’s as mad as Dad is.
I let my head sink into the soft pillow, the familiar and rare scent of home filling my senses. “I wish it were that simple.”
With a single kiss to my forehead, she looks down at me through her beautiful blue eyes, nothing but love and sincerity in them.
“Unfortunately, it really is that simple, Billie. Because if you don’t focus on you and this baby, then you’ll have way more problems than just an asshole who can’t get his priorities straightened out.”
CHAPTER THREE
EMMETT
“Did the money reach you all right?” I ask Scott before I’ll be forced to switch my cell to Airplane mode.
Flying by private jet has its benefits, including being permitted to make calls right until takeoff. Still, that doesn’t prevent the side-eye I receive from my captain and center, Jack Morgan, as he takes a seat next to me.
“Yeah, it landed in my account late last night.”
Scott sounds less sure of me sending the money than when we spoke a few days ago in the bar.
“It’s yours, no questions asked,” I reassure him, trying to sound as vague as possible.
While I trust my teammates fully, I’m certain that Scott and Freya wouldn’t want their business shared with anyone—well, if Freya knew the full truth.
Scott clears his throat. I know he’s at work today, likely sitting in his van outside the school where he’s a full-time janitor. “I want to at least pay some of it back.”
“Not happening.” My retort is fast and sharper than I intended, garnering another look from Jack.
