Page 32 of Playing It Forward

“It’s not as if I can avoid you now anyway,” she mutters.

My gaze sharpens. “What?”

She exhales a harsh gust of air. “I need to tell you something.”

My pulse quickens. “What is it?”

“I… ah…”

She slams a hand over her mouth and darts out of the room. What the hell? I chase after her. I follow her straight into the women’s restroom. It’s empty but if it weren’t, I wouldn’t give a fuck. Terri’s sick. She’s all that matters now.

She falls to her knees and heaves into the toilet. I gather her hair and hold it back for her. I rub circles into her back as she empties the contents of her stomach.

When she finishes, I stand and get her a glass of water.

“Here.” I hand her the water.

She swigs the water around her mouth before spitting into the toilet.

“You’re sick. You shouldn’t be working. Do you want me to drive you home?”

She waves away my question. “I’m not sick.”

“I literally watched you puke your guts out in a toilet,” I grumble.

She sighs. “I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”

I rear back. The sudden, unexpected movement has my shoulder protesting but I ignore it. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant. With baby. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. In the family way. Got a tiny smuggler aboard. Growing a future pirate.”

“And it’s my baby? I mean I assume it’s my baby. Why else are you telling me?”

I thread a hand through my hair as I pace the rest room. Holy shit. I’m going to be a dad.

A dad? I don’t know how to be a dad. My dad wasn’t around when I was a kid. He claimed football and parenthood didn’t go together. And yet he didn’t have a problem knocking Mom up every chance he got.

“It’s okay,” Terri says and I swivel toward her. “You don’t have to be involved.”

“Not be involved? We’re discussing my kid.”

“Which was created during a one-hour stand. We’re not in a relationship. We barely know each other. I don’t expect anything from you.”

“I’m not abandoning my child.” I won’t let my child grow up the way I did. Thinking he wasn’t loved. Thinking he was second place to football.

Don’t get me wrong. I love football. I’ll do anything to win the Super Bowl this season. But I don’t need to abandon my child to accomplish my goals.

She studies my face. “You’re not questioning whether this is your child.”

It wasn’t a question but I answer it as one anyway. “No, I’m not.”

“But we used a condom, and I’m on the pill.”

“Accidents happen.”

Her brow wrinkles. “You don’t think I’m lying? That I got pregnant on purpose to trap you?”

I rear back. “What are you talking about? You’re Terri Jordan. You won’t date me. You run the other way every time you see me coming.”