He chuckles before sipping his coffee. “If I didn’t know this was decaf, I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
My chest tightens at his silent confession. “Everett, you don’t need to stop drinking caffeine, just like you don’t have to stop drinking alcohol.”
“And you don’t have to be growing our kid, but you are,” he counters.
The thought of me doing anything but keeping our baby rocks through me, and I curl in on myself protectively.
“I know I didn’t really give you a chance to discuss there being a different outcome, but even if you didn’t want our baby, I don’t think I could have terminated the pregnancy. I’d have just done it alone.”
His jaw tics, and he lowers his head for a beat.
“I respect that. But I never, ever would have suggested you do anything you didn’t want to do. And I promise, no matter what happens, wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, I will always support you and our baby in whatever way I can.”
Those goddamn tears flood my eyes again. Why does he have to be so sweet? Can’t he go back to being the arrogant hockey player from that night? That way, I might be more likely to hit him than to sob on his shoulder.
“Bea,” he warns. “I don’t know what to do with tears.”
“Then you should probably take me back home, because I have zero control over these things right now. I’m like a leaky freaking faucet.”
He chuckles before pulling his phone out. “Will food help?” he asks, pulling up a delivery app.
“Food always helps.”
“See, look at all the things we have in common.”
“I’m not sure you can count food as a common interest.”
“I’m counting it. Oh, I love this place. What do you think?” he asks as he passes his cell over.
“Oh my god,” I mumble as I scroll through the menu. “It all sounds so good.”
“Choose whatever you want,” he tells me, his attention burning the side of my face as he watches me.
I glance over, wondering what’s so interesting, because it can’t possibly be me. “What?” I ask when it becomes obvious he’s not going to look away.
“I like your freckles,” he blurts.
When his entire body stiffens beside me, I realize he didn’t actually mean to say it out loud.
“Thanks,” I whisper, feeling my cheeks heat.
“You’re…uh…really pretty. That’s the first thing I remember thinking that night.”
“That I was pretty?” I ask, my brows pinching. “Really?”
He rubs his jaw. “Fine. No, it wasn’t. I thought you were hot as fuck, and I needed to know how to ensure I’d get to spend time with you.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Sounds more like the man I met that night.”
He smirks.
“Have you chosen?” he asks, changing the subject.
I make a few more selections because…well, why not? before handing back his cell.
He nods as he checks out my selections before adding a few of his own and placing the order.
“It’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
