“As the universe keeps telling me.”
“But that doesn’t mean it can’t work. Do you want more from this situationship?”
I thought I did. But I may have been confusing my feelings with the emotions around becoming a dad, not to mention my sex fast. The last few weeks had been busy—games, travel, party planning, a stint on Conor’s dick-cast, and plenty of fun times with my right hand. The doc might have given me leave to bang any bunny I wanted, but every other woman repulsed me—and I blamed her for showing me that a sweet rack and a pretty smile would no longer cut it. I could barely hold a conversation with any of these women. How the hell was I supposed to enjoy a roll in the sheets with them?
Thankfully I didn’t need to come up with an answer because Lauren’s attention was diverted. I turned to see a guy in a suit approaching us. My heart sank because he had crypto-loving finance bro written all over him, which meant I was predisposed to hate him. As long as he wasn’t a Brad or a Chad.
“Jason, this is Thad.” She kissed her guy. “Thad, this is my friend, Jason.”
“Rebels rule, man!”
Be nice. Be nice.
“They sure do,” I said gamely.
Five minutes later, my brain had started leaking out of my ears during a conversation about financial derivatives and mortgage-backed instruments. I managed to make my escape and was chatting with Hatch when Conor walked in. More like bounded, just making me tired by looking at him. He was having a stellar debut season with Detroit and was in the running for the Calder for best rookie. I loved being a witness to his success. So talented, the kid deserved it.
On the other hand, he was also a nosey little fucker who had somehow worked out that I was about to be a daddy.
He spent a few minutes shooting the shit with Hatch and Summer, before nudging me. “I see your sworn enemy is here.”
I followed his gaze. Rosie had just walked into the Empty Net.
With Franky.
Stunned, I turned to Conor, but I had nothing to add. He mouthed “okay” and dropped a knowing grin.
Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled to see her. But here? No warning, nothing. We hadn’t spent any time together around other people since our new arrangement. I had no idea how I was supposed to act. Ignore her? Be civil? Spin her around so everyone knew she belonged to me?
Well, not in that sense. But our connection was something worth celebrating.
I wanted the world to know this woman had chosen me.
Rosie hugged Summer, then kissed Hatch and me on the cheek and launched into some nonsense about one of Summer’s bras stuffed in a sofa cushion. I tuned out because all I could see was her. Not just the woman who would soon give birth to my child, but the doc. The sexy brainiac who haunted my dreams and fueled my fantasies.
She stared at me, gave a tiny shrug, then clamped those pearly whites on that succulent bottom lip. I tried to communicate with my eyes: Why are you here? She frowned, then took out her phone.
I did the same, and there it was: a text. I’d had my phone in Do Not Disturb mode because Conor had spent the entire afternoon trash talking one of the New York D-men who went hard for Hatch in last night’s game. I had needed a nap before the party, so the Connie Chirpfest was put on hold. I’d forgotten to turn my phone’s notifications back on.
Doc
I’m coming to Theo’s party. Kind of a last-minute decision. Hope that’s okay?
Like she had to ask permission. But it would have been good to get our stories straight—Holy fuckington!
Francesca St. James had just taken off her coat to gasps from the crowd, and there it was.
My baby bump.
Conor side-eyed me then turned to Hatch with a smart-assed, “Yep.”
Franky pushed her glasses back up her nose. “As you can see, I’m pregnant. I was loath to steal focus from Theo’s party, but Rosie insisted I come. I hope he doesn’t mind.”
She looked over to where my brother was holding court at the bar. I probably should clue him in before someone else did.
“I’m sure you have questions,” Franky said.
This statement was greeted with a chorus of “oh, no!” and “not at all!”—liars, the lot of ’em—followed by hearty congrats. Franky eyed me and mouthed “sorry.” I had never wanted to hold someone so badly and soothe that worried frown with kisses.
