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But right. Nothing was so easy. I needed a plan.
Unfortunately, my mind was a blank. Sniffling still, I wiped away the tears that kept falling and walked back into the main room of my tiny apartment. My mom would want to know, and Ethel would be full of ideas. Phone in hand, I dropped down onto the couch, and jumped when my bottom landed on the remote.
Rock music suddenly filled my little studio. A choke left my throat as blood rushed in my ears. Because Music TV was playing a familiar song, “Kate Baby” live.
Slowly, my eyes found the screen and it was true. Hard Fought filled the small monitor, panning in on those rock hard bodies and handsome faces. My pussy tingled, and yet for the first time, there was a strange sensation of peace. These men weren’t mine. They had never been mine, and no matter what I thought and no matter what they told me, Hudson, Gunner and Brody didn’t belong to me.
A red tag flashed at the bottom of the TV. Live at Madison Square Garden, it read.
Oh my gosh, Hard Fought was in town? Right here in New York?
I gasped again and choked on my own breath. My men were in town. Salty tears gushed down my face and into my mouth. Snot ran down my nose and my entire body prickled with heat and then cold.
They’re actually here.
Happiness rushed through me, but then also sorrow. Because the men weren’t mine. They were performing for a crowd of screaming fans, giving it their all under the hot stage lights while clearly oblivious to their growing baby.
My baby. Our baby.
I forced myself to look again. On screen, the guys were sexier than ever. Brody prowled the stage in tight jeans, his bare chest soaked with sweat and a snarl on that handsome face. The screaming crowd couldn’t get enough of him.
Hudson was equally gorgeous but looked like he didn’t care about what he was doing. Careless with just the right amount of cool. Gorgeous and predatory at once.
Just behind them, Gunner beat on the drums like a man on a mission. His usually happy face was set in a scowl, but nothing could hide the perfect planes of his face and the broad shoulders behind the cymbals.
They were in New York. I could go see them if I wanted to. Ask them why they left me the way they did. Maybe I could even tell them about the baby.
I bit my lip.
No, that wasn’t the right thing to do. They were done with me, remember? Leaving my form gasping in the dirt, like I wasn’t good enough.
Plus, I’d just had my Come to Jesus moment. I was okay with it now. I’d live because the most special gift of all was growing in my belly.
Except my conscience stirred then. Because what kind of woman would I be if I never told these men about their child? If the baby was the most precious person to me in the world, then wouldn’t they want to know as well? After all, she was part me, but also part them. Didn’t they deserve to know?
I paused for a moment, biting my lip. On the one hand, I wanted to keep the baby to myself because it was less hassle. Life would be hard financially for sure, but I’d live. Many single moms raise happy, successful children and I was determined to do my best for the little darling.
On the other hand, every child deserves to know their father, right? Or their fathers, plural, in this case? At some age, the questions would start. Who was he? How did you meet him? And worst of all, why didn’t he want me?
That’s what turned the tide. Because I didn’t want my child to think that he was unwanted. This baby was a blessing in every way, and I wanted to give him the chance of knowing his fathers so long as they were amenable.
So with a determined chin, I turned towards my closet. It’d been a long time since I’d worn anything more than stained sweats, but it was time to do better, both for myself and for the baby growing in the belly. There was an A-line number, floral and sweet, that would do the trick. It would cover my growing belly, masking my pregnancy for a little while at least.
Because I was going to see Hard Fought. My lovers, the light of my life, even after this difficult time.
Hudson, Gunner, and Brody. I could taste the names on my lips, so close and yet so far at once. And although I should have been trembling with fear, instead my heart leapt in anticipation because in my heart of hearts, I still loved them. Yes, the passion had run high, but the four of us were more than that. We had experienced something real and genuine … and I knew I wasn’t the only one who’d felt it.
