“You get judged silently,” Griffin says. “But lovingly of course. Why? Is there a…” He clears his throat. “A reason you wouldn’t want a drink?”
The ladies catch on to whatever Griffin is saying because their brows all shoot up and Ella squeals. “Oh, my gosh! Is there? Are you off the juice for nine months?”
Nine months?
Holy fuck.
Harper’s pregnant?
My head whips her direction so fast I very nearly lose my balance.
Harper chokes on her water, coughing as it slides down the wrong hole. “What? No! No!” she exclaims, shaking her head with laughter. “Not at all. I’ll take the shot. Hand it over.” The ladies laugh and she chuckles softly before she downs the short drink with barely a wince.
“Wow. Impressive.” I wink.
She shrugs. “I grew up around athletes. You know my brother.. You’ve met him. He’s in the NFL now, by the way, so trust me, I’ve had my fair share of drinks. Besides, I’ve seen you drink an entire team under the table and live to tell the tale.”
“Your brother’s in the NFL?” I ask dumbfounded. “Why didn’t I ever know this?”
She shrugs playing coy all of a sudden. “Second year. I got him a spot with Miami.”
“No shit!”
She smiles proudly. “Yep.”
“Drinking a team under the table, that’s a bold claim,” Roche says, nodding in appreciation. “Should we see if you’re still as good as you once were, old man?”
“Fuck you very much, Bodhi, but I think I’ll pass this time. A man knows his limits and tonight his limit is one. I have to get my girl home safely.”
I take a moment to try to slow my heartbeat from the impending freak out I was about to have thinking that Harper could be pregnant. Not that having a family with her isn’t something I want, because it absolutely is, but I’d like to sort out the family I have before I add to it.
God, I’m such an asshole.
I didn’t use any protection the night I found her in my bed. I just…fucking went for it like some sort of starved beast who couldn’t keep himself under control.
“Harp…” I turn to her in a silent moment just for us, but she squeezes my hand almost as if she was waiting for me to say something to her.
“I’m not pregnant, H,” she assures me. “You can calm the thoughts running through your mind now, okay? Everything is fine.”
“But I owe you an apology. I didn’t even think of using pro?—”
“And I would’ve refused it anyway.” She leans in closer, whispering in my ear, “I wanted you that night every bit as much as you wanted me. So, stop worrying and feeling regretful or you’re going to make me feel like I was a mistake for you.”
I shake my head, my eyes meeting hers. “Never, Harp. You never were and never will be a mistake. You’re my life. Always have been.”
“Okay then. We’re good. Everything is fine.” She shrugs. “See? All good.”
The night rolls on, easy and loud and warm. Harper fits in seamlessly, trading barbs with Layken, listening to Ella’s animated story about getting stuck inside the mascot costume last season, pretending not to notice when I keep my hand on her lower back.
At one point, Oliver starts a story about Harrison Meers’ rookie season.
“Oh no,” I say.
“Oh yes,” Scarlett replies sweetly.
Harper turns to me. “What did you do?”
I groan. “I tripped onto the ice coming out of the tunnel when my name was announced.”
