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“How? I have a job in Chicago, and Dean lives in Philly.”
“You hate your internship.”
“More than anything,” I admit.
“Then, I don’t see what’s stopping you from living with Dean.”
I sigh, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to be like my mom.”
“Seriously, you have to chill out.” Silvia grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “You’re not your mom. You don’t have to give up anything, okay? Not unless you want to. If moving to Philly to be with Dean will make you happy, then march into the office tomorrow and quit.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is.”
Annoyed, I sigh. “You don’t understand.”
“Yes, I do,” she snaps. “My dad wasn’t around much when I was a kid either. You need to get over that. Dean will be there for you and the baby if you let him. So, let him be there.”
I nod at the open door at the end of the hall. “Can we just get this over with?”
She bobs her head.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t feel like myself anymore. My hormones are all out of whack.”
“It’s okay.” She rubs my back. “You can do this, Kat.”
We stop in front of the counter and the secretary points at the sign-in sheet. She doesn’t even say hello as I scribble my name on the page. After years of coming to this office, you would think she would be a little nicer, especially today, of all days.
I sit next to Silvia in the waiting room. After a while, a nurse dressed in light blue scrubs opens the door across from us.
She peeks down at the chart in her hands and says, “Katherine Baldwin.”
“Wish me luck,” I say to Silvia as I get up from the chair.
She gives me a hopeful smile, and then I follow the nurse into the back of the office. After she weighs me and takes my vitals, she notates the information in my chart without speaking a single word to me. Nervous energy rushes through my body, igniting a fire beneath my skin. I hate doctors. I grew up with them coming and going from my house. Maybe I should have asked Silvia to come back with me.
“Hello, Kat,” Dr. Grady says as he enters the room. “How are you feeling today?”
“Worse than a few days ago. My stomach is killing me. I feel like I have a constant fever. I know something is wrong with me. I can feel it.”
He closes the chart and sets it on the table next to me. “You’re pregnant, the test confirms it.”
My heart speeds up to an abnormal rate, the air draining from my lungs as I try to speak. “Are you sure?”
Dr. Grady nods. “We sampled your blood. It’s the most accurate test for pregnancy.”
“So, what am I supposed to do now? I don’t know anything about babies or raising one.”
“When was the last time you were sexually active?”
“Almost three months ago.”
“Then, you’re not too far along,” he says, ripping a piece of paper from the pad in his pocket. “Here’s a list of OBGYN’s in the area. The names I put a star next to offer a concierge service.”
My brothers and I were all delivered at home by a concierge doctor, but he retired a long time ago. Dr. Grady stands, and I struggle not to cry in front of him.
“Take care of yourself, Kat.”
“Can you please not tell my dad before I get the chance?”
“Of course not,” he says in a stern tone. “There’s a thing called doctor-patient confidentiality. I wouldn’t dream of breaking it, not even for Nick Baldwin. How is your dad, by the way?”
“Good. He still travels a lot.”
“How are your brothers? Are they still getting hurt all the time?”
I shrug. “You know my brothers. They like to get into fights and break things.”
He chuckles. “They sure do.”
I slide off the table and follow him out of the room. He congratulates me, which I’m not sure I want to hear yet, and then we part ways. My first thought is to call Dean. Whenever I have a problem, I run to him, except now he’s part of the problem.
Chapter Twenty
DEAN
With minutes left on the game clock, we’re losing by one goal. My heart beats faster, adrenaline flooding through my veins as I skate down the ice. I don’t get as much playing time as the older guys on the team. But when we’re on the ice together, I’ve never felt more in the zone.
Excitement oozes from the fans cheering from the stands. Their confidence in us only makes me want to work harder and skate faster. Tyler Kane still crawls up my ass every chance he gets. I know he’s trying to toughen me up with his intimidation tactics. Still, it’s frustrating.
I look to my left and pass the puck to Ethan, who has more of a chance of scoring than I do. As three players crowd around us, attempting to strip the puck away, we have to work together as a unit. Like me, Will and Ethan seem to play better under pressure. They both thrive off it.
