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She sighs. “Dad…”
I wait, wondering where she’s going with this. When she doesn’t speak, I say, “Did you just want to talk, Emma?”
“Would it be a problem if I did?”
I realize I haven’t asked her where she got this number, but it must’ve been her dad’s phone. Did she ask him for it? “No,” I say, even if I should say the opposite. “We can talk.”
“That was a bit of a sneaky question,” she murmurs, “just to see what you’d say. The truth is, I have a specific reason for calling. I need to tell you something.”
I wait. Her sighs and small movements on the other side of the phone make me think of her sitting in bed, anxiously gripping the sheet. That flush in her cheeks, but more concerned than sexy. Or both. I wish I were there to hold her. Goddamn, I was wrong about it being easier over the phone. My defenses are crumbling.
“I’m not sure how to say this.” She pauses and makes aneeknoise. “Okay, I’m just going to say it. Just get it out there, and then we can deal with it. Band-Aid logic, okay?”
My heart picks up speed. In all the games I’ve played since that night on the balcony, I haven’t noticed my heart pounding once. But now, I feel it. I can’t ignore it. It feels like my life is about to change forever for the better, I hope.
“I’m pregnant,” she says. “I’ve done three at-home tests and been to the doctor. So yeah, there’s no doubt about it. I don’t know where to go from here.”
I’ve got my teeth clenched. I want to cheer. I want to punch the air. I want to run next door and shake Chuck awake and tell him. I’m going to be a dad! I’ve always wanted this, a deep primal urge, but I never knew if I’d meet the right woman.
“Emma,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “This might sound insensitive, but—”
“You want to know if I screwed somebody else right after we had sex. Is that it?” she snaps.
The thought makes me beyond sick. It makes me want to find anybody who’s ever touched her and break my hockey stick over their head.
“Because that’s the sort of woman I am,” she says. “I sleep around. I fucked you on a balcony after a quick conversation. So I fuck people easily, right? On a whim?”
“Calm down,” I say gruffly. “If that’s my son or daughter—”
“Theyareyour son or daughter, okay? I was a virgin when we had sex, and I haven’t slept with anybody since. There, happy now?”
I try to speak, but nothing comes out but a shaky breath. “You were a virgin,” I whisper, remembering how she rocked for me, how wet and ready she was. “That was the first time you had sex?”
“That’s what a virgin is, right?”
“Easy on the sass,” I tell her.
“So you get to boss me around now, huh? Yes, that was the first time I had sex.”
“You were perfect,” I say, my voice torn. “Wewere perfect. Together. It felt so natural.”
“I assumed that’s how it always felt for you,” she says.
“I’m not a playboy, Emma. I don’t sleep around.”
After a pause, she sighs, then says, “Anyway, I thought you’d want to know. I don’t know what we do next. I haven’t thought very far ahead. I’m not going to start showing for a while, but…”
“You’re not thinking… are you?”
She audibly swallows. “What would your opinion about that be?”
My opinion is that I’d do anything to protect my woman and my child, but what happens if they conflict? “I want you to keep the baby.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she says. “I think we can be grownups about this. Somehow, we can make it work. This isn’t the fifties. You don’t have to marry me to save my honor. We can come up with a plan.”
“I’ve got a plan,” I say, the primal urge driving me to my feet. “I’m coming to California.”
“Wait… what?”
