“Hey, baby.” He cups my face in his hands, his voice soft. “Breathe.”
“You don’t understand,” I tell him. “You don’t understand, I’m not good for you.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
“You don’t get it.”
“You are going to get out of the truck, and we are going to go inside. I’m going to sit you down, and you are going to tell me what it is that is freaking you the fuck out.”
“You,” I whisper. “You are freaking me the fuck out.”
“Yeah, I could say the same,” he tosses back to me. “Let’s go, Collins. We’ll sit down, you’ll tell me what it is, and if you want me to take you home, I’ll take you back home. But I’m not going to have this conversation with you in the truck. You need to put your feet up.” He unbuckles my seat belt and takes me out of the truck. He presses in the code for the door with his free hand, his other hand still in mine, and pulls me into the house.
“I would say welcome to my house. But I don’t want to freak you out.” He walks directly to the left, where there is a huge couch that would probably fit eight people, and they wouldn’t even touch. The ceiling opens all the way up to the roof. “Do you want water?” I shake my head as I sink down on the couch. He sits next to me. “Okay then, let’s talk.”
I put my hand on my face. “This is so, so bad.”
“I promise you that it’s not.” He grabs one of my hands and holds it between his.
“Theo, my parents are not good people.” I swallow as I feel the tightness start in my shoulders and move up to my neck. “Everyone in town knows. They have scammed or stolen something from practically every single person in Montgavin. Haven’t you noticed how, when I’m walking down the street, people are either clutching their bags or sneering at me?” I watch his face, ready for the disgust to form on it, but nothing changes.
“When I was seven years old, my parents told everyone I was sick and needed an operation to help me survive. They got over ten thousand dollars, and it was gone in two weeks. My father bought fucking cheap metal and glass jewelry and falsely labeled it as 18K gold with genuine gemstones to sell door-to-door. He even had paperwork made to certify the fake gems.” My mouth doesn’t stop there. “We lived in the fucking woods my whole fourth-grade year. In a tent, practically homeless. They took advantage of my teacher by stealing her identity and racking up four credit cards totaling twenty-eight thousand dollars.” I put my hand on my chest, my heart hammering under it. “I turned eighteen, and they stole my identity to open credit card accounts.
“They showed up the other night and saw the fans you bought me and tried to take them to go and pawn them.” He lets go of my hand and gets up. I watch his back retreating away from me. “They are going to take one look at you, at your truck, at your house, and”—I can’t help the sob that rocks out of me—“they are going to pounce on you like a cat catching its first fucking mouse. I’m not going to put you through that. I refuse to put you through that.” All he does is look out the window. “It’s enough that when I tell everyone I’m pregnant, they are going to think I’m trapping you. Who knows what they’re going to say when I actually have the baby.”
“I’m going to need you to stop talking now,” he says.
“I’m sorry.” I get to my feet. “You can take me back home, and I swear to you that you will never hear from me again.” I want to throw up. “I will never tell anyone who the father is. I promise I will never come to you for anything.”
“Like fuck.” He turns back around. “I want you to stop talking because I’m this close to going back to Montgavin to find your parents.” I swallow. “And it won’t be a friendly conversation either.”
“Theo . . .” The tear escapes from the corner of my eye.
“Now, this is what is going to happen.” He comes to me. “I’m going to show you around the house.” He wipes the tear away from my cheek. “We are going to get something to eat, and then I want you to meet my parents.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“After that, you and I will have dinner, and we’re going to have a talk.” His voice is tight. “It’s going to be a talk that you are going to have an open mind about.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused. “I’m not getting rid of this baby.” I step away from him and hold both hands on my stomach. “I’m not my parents. I will never use my child as a pawn. Not now, not ever.”
“Collins, I have no doubt, not one fucking doubt, that you would die before you brought harm to our child. You haven’t asked me for one fucking cent since you told me about our baby. And you can see I have some money.”
“I didn’t know. I thought you worked for Caleb.”
“I do. I also own half of the company now that I’ve moved there.”
My head falls forward into the middle of his chest. “My parents . . .”
“Your parents are going to have to go through me to get to you,” he declares, his voice tight, “and just so you know, I’m an asshole.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.” I look up at him. “You are kind and generous and?—”
“I can let you meet at least ten people who will tell you otherwise. So when we get back to town, we’re going to sit down with your parents and?—”
“No fucking way,” I snap. “There is no way they will ever get to you. They can smell money from a mile away. The next thing you know, they’ll be asking you for a loan, and you’ll think, Why not? Let’s just give it to them. Then the amounts are going to go from a hundred dollars to thousands, that is, if they don’t try to rob you blind without you even knowing.”
He’s about to say something else, but the doorbell rings. “Well, I think we need to table this discussion for later.” He bends to kiss my lips gently. “That will be my parents.”
