Chapter
One
Callie
* * *
If I was the heroine in a rom-com, seeing the father of my unborn baby in a Chicago Colts baseball uniform would ignite a warm, glowing sensation bursting through my belly.
Instead, my stomach mutters, Congrats. You’ve officially outdone yourself.
Was my pregnancy planned? Of course not.
Truth be told, I’m a lifelong safe-sex-always card-carrying member. We’re talking VIP, platinum status here.
Condoms in my purse? You betcha.
Birth control pills? On them since college.
Regular testing for an STI? Mandatory.
But somehow, even with my type-A safe-sex checklist, I’m still growing a baby in my uterus. And a fucking Chicago Colts child at that. Yes, I realize for some women, that would be a dream. But I’ve sworn off baseball players my entire life, which leads me to the third problem in my dilemma—my baby daddy is… wait for it…my older brother’s teammate and friend.
Don’t worry though, neither of them has any idea I’m carrying said baby. Only one other person knows my secret so far, but time is ticking, and I need to tell the father and then my brother.
“So, give me a hint,” Leighton whines. “It’s, like, best-friend code. You can’t tell me you’re pregnant and then not give me the most important detail.”
She’s already asked me ten times today. “You’re picking up bad habits from Monroe.”
Please note, Leighton is my best friend, but she’s also my brother’s fiancée. She’s in her happily-ever-after bubble with Hayes where everything is magical and sparkly, and life is perfect. Meanwhile, I’m choking on every thought that crosses my brain (and almost every piece of food that hits my tongue).
Can I navigate pregnancy and motherhood and maintain the success I’ve had with my podcast? Are women really telling the truth when they say I can have a family and a career? Or is that something society tells women so we inevitably feel as though we’re failing when we can’t juggle it all? I sure as shit hope I can handle both because I didn’t put all my blood, sweat, and tears into this dream just for a few minutes of success.
Leighton’s brows draw down. “You’re comparing me to a six-year-old?”
We look down the row of seats behind home plate to see Monroe jumping in place and my dad getting up from his seat to go buy her ice cream.
I chuckle. “She’s relentless, and you’ve been the same since I told you the news.”
Thankfully, my mom can’t hear us because she’s busy pestering Lake to stay away from boys and telling Lincoln to sit down.
The fact that my BFF took guardianship of her deceased cousin’s three kids last year makes her and my brother this cute-as-hell instant family. Just more sparkly magic shit for them. Sometimes it’s nauseating to witness, but I’m still over the moon happy for them all.
“Okay, tell me one characteristic he has.” Her eyes zero in on the field as the Colts take their positions. She taps her finger to her lips. “Is he quiet?”
I roll my eyes, knowing she’s talking about Decker.
“Cocky?”
I glance over to where Easton stands in his shortstop position. “If I told you either one of those things, it would narrow the choices significantly.”
Hayes jogs out to home plate, lifting his helmet and winking at Leighton before his gaze strays to the kids. Lake is too cool to give him any attention, but Lincoln jumps up and shouts at him. Hayes gives him a wave, and his gaze strays to Leighton one more time. She blows him a kiss.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I mimic a vomiting noise.
“Tell me about it,” Lake says. “I came downstairs this morning to them making out on the counter.”
Leighton scoffs and whips her head toward Lake. “We were not.”
