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The thought cycles in my brain over and over on the drive home. I tried to save face in front of Adeline and make her believe I’m totally cool with this new role so she wouldn’t worry, but damn, I’m filled with fucking fear. Then, like an idiot, I brought up my dad and all the lawyer shit he’s surely going to throw at me… her… us. Why would I worry her like that? I shouldn’t even tell my family, any of them.
I pull into my designated parking spot in the garage across from my apartment building. Instead of heading to my apartment, I go into Peeper’s Alley, the bar at the bottom level of the four-flat, needing something to drink. When I approach, I tear down the poster board someone hand wrote “The Den” on and put it up on the gate to the stairs that lead to the three apartments above. Over the years, this place has come to be known by the moniker because of all the Grizzlies who have lived here.
“Damon,” Ruby says from behind the bar when I enter the dated establishment. She hands a pint of beer to one of her many male customers who line the stools day and night.
She’s opted not to make this bar trendy like the rest of the area. Instead, she refuses to serve anything other than beer and hard alcohol. Ruby is always lecturing any woman who comes in and asks for a seltzer, telling them they need to learn how to order a real drink. She’s a little rough around the edges, but she treats me and the other two Grizzlies players who live in the building like her sons.
“Hey, Rubes, a shot of tequila and a beer.”
She nods, and I wait. I have a tab here that she charges every month. I down the shot right after she finishes pouring it and wait for her to fill my pint of beer.
“Your crew is in the private room.” She nods toward the room in the back.
Let’s just say this place has become a popular hangout for women who hope to find us here, so the private room allows us privacy when we don’t want to deal with any of that shit.
“Thanks.” I pick up my beer and raise it in cheers.
The moment I walk into the private room, I change my mind and wish I would’ve gone up to my apartment. Bryce is cozy in Miles’s lap while Cooper and Ellery sit with barely any space between them. It’s like being the fifth wheel, and all I have to contribute is a pregnant one-night stand.
All four of them look up at me when I open the door.
“Daddy’s home!” Cooper calls.
“Shut the fuck up.” I look behind me, worried someone might have heard.
“Oh, come on. Most of them can’t even hear what the person next to them is saying.” Ellery sticks up for her supposed “best friend.” She swears she doesn’t want to fuck Cooper and he swears the same, but they’re delusional.
I don’t know how they’ve gone this long ignoring the pull between them. Not pressing Adeline’s back against the cool metal of the elevator wall and kissing the shit out of her earlier was pure torture. She’s somehow even hotter now that she’s carrying my child.
I really hope this infatuation I have with her is because she’s carrying my baby. Like some kind of caveman reaction. Because every night since I found out, I’ve beat off to images of her riding me with her swollen belly and big tits. It’s pathetic really, and I need to get laid.
“You’re crabby,” Bryce says, pushing her finger into my bicep as I sit between Miles and Cooper.
Horny is more accurate.
“So?” Miles asks, the one friend in this room who isn’t afraid to dive straight into the serious shit.
I nod and sip my beer.
“Congratulations.” Cooper pats my back, and I cough on my beer.
“I’m going to get a round of shots. Damon’s gonna be a daddy.” Ellery rounds her chair and heads into the bar area before I can stop her. “Rubes, a round of shots for us,” I hear her call.
“Are you upset?” Bryce asks.
“No.”
“Scared?” Miles asks.
“Shitless.” I sip my beer again but continue swallowing until I finish the fucking thing. I slide the empty glass on the wooden table and rock my head back.
“Are you going to marry her?” Cooper asks.
I whip my head over to him. “Have you fucked Ellery yet?”
His head rears back, and he honestly looks confused as to why I’d ask him that question. Because Cooper fucking Ellery is in the same realm of possibility as pigs flying or hell freezing over. The man cannot make a move to save his life, and I’m no different when it comes to commitment.
“No, I’m not going to marry her,” I answer before Cooper says anything.
