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“Are you sure?” I finally mutter, staring across the bedroom at the back of my door, wishing Tuck would walk through right now.

I need to talk to my brother. He needs to know there’s a possibility one of us could be the father.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Jemma sighs. “The doctor confirmed it. My OBGYN says I’m a little over two months pregnant, probably closer to three by now.”

Two or three months? Okay, so it could definitely be either mine or Tucker’s. I can’t believe this is happening. We’re so close to winning another championship, so close to our shot at the NHL. My dad immediately comes to mind. The same thing happened to him at the end of high school, right before he was getting ready to pursue his professional career. He gave up Blake for adoption and look at how well he did. But was that really the right move?

“Do you want to keep it?” I ask Jemma.

I know I sound like an asshole. She might even hate me. Hell, I even hate myself for asking her this question. But I have to know the answer. My entire life is about to change. Or maybe even Tucker’s life.

She groans in frustration and gets up from the bed, the mattress shifting without her weight. “I knew you wouldn’t take this well, but I didn’t think you’d be this bad.”

I hate hearing the anger in her voice. But I deserve it, I think. I don’t even know what to say. How can you prepare for this kind of situation?

“Are you sure it’s mine?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She throws her hands onto her hips, glaring down at me. “Who else’s could it be?”

“Tucker,” I say, thinking I’m stating the obvious.

The wheels start turning in her head, and then it finally dawns on her that I might be right. She covers her face with her hands, the tears streaming down her cheeks. I jump up from the bed, my need to comfort her now kicking into high gear. What am I saying? I love this girl. Or at least I think I do. So, why am I being a dick?

Holding Jemma in my arms, I take in her sweet scent and cradle her head against my chest, allowing her to cry until her body stops shaking. I want to fall apart, too. But I can’t. She needs me. Even if the baby isn’t mine, it could be Tucker’s. Jemma isn’t the kind of girl to go around sleeping with random dudes. No matter what I have to protect Jemma and this child.

“I’m sorry, Jem.” I speak the words against the shell of her ear, and she stirs in my arms. “But I can’t stop thinking that the baby could also be Tuck’s, and if it is, he needs to be involved, too.”

She peeks up at me, streaks of black makeup clumping under her eyes. “Why would you even say that?” Jemma peels herself from my arms and takes a step back, a scowl on her face. “I am with you, Trent. I chose you. This baby is yours.”

“Yeah, but you were with Tuck, too. How do you know for sure?”

“Because I do,” she shouts.

“We share DNA, Jem. Tuck needs to know there’s a possibility that he could be the father.”

“He’s not, you asshole,” she growls, her mouth twisted in disgust. Jemma shakes her head at me, lifts her bag from the bed, and then blows past me toward the door.

I should go after her. That would be the right thing to do. But I need time to process the news before I say another stupid thing to her.

After I hear the front door slam, I drop to the bed and lean back against the headboard. Staring up at the ceiling, I wonder what the fuck I’m going to do. Money isn’t an issue. My family has plenty of it. The baby would never want for a thing. But we’re so damn young.

Can I be a father to this child?

Will I even be around long enough to be a parent?

If I’m drafted into the NHL, I will never be home. It’s the same reason my dad gave Blake up for adoption. But it was a decision he always regretted. That’s why it was an open adoption and Blake now knows that my dad is his biological father, even though the man who raised him is still his dad.

I remove my cell phone from my pocket and type out a quick text to Tucker, asking him to come home ASAP. On typical Tuck time, he strolls through the door an hour later, because why would he bother to come right away?

Tuck reaches up to grab the doorframe, still in the doorway. “What’s so important I had to come right home?”

“Where were you?”

“With Romeo and Professor.”

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