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Roe and I finally made it to the other side, and we reached our gate with a few minutes to spare. They’d just started boarding the last group.

“I legit wanna cry,” I muttered.

“I feel ya,” he sighed. “Did you take painkillers?”

I nodded and closed my eyes for a moment. “We’re not doin’ shit today, are we? Other than resting, ordering pizza, and inhaling coffee.”

“Not a damn thing except that.” He cleared his throat and nudged me forward a step. “You, uh…you have to tell me if you want space or—”

I looked at him sharply, which hurt, for the record, but come the fuck on. “Roe, I don’t know what the hell happened to us last night, but don’t do that. Don’t pull away.”

Judging by his instant relief, he needed to hear that. “Got it. No pulling away. We’ll, um, talk when we get home?”

I nodded again. It was a plan.

It was our turn to board soon enough, and we found our seats in business while Roe checked his phone. I didn’t have the energy for that shit. Besides, Roe updated me whether I wanted him to or not. Haley had texted him several times, apparently. The party had created a slight buzz back in LA, and “everyone,” meaning some, wanted to talk about Jake Denver.

“Uh-huh.” I tucked my shades into the neckline of my tee, pulled down my ball cap over my eyes, and folded my arms over my chest. “Wake me up when we land.”

Roe chuckled tiredly. “No, I’ll leave your ass here.”

Let’s not discuss asses right now. I was thoroughly confused as it was.

*

A walk through LAX undid the progress I’d made by sleeping on the plane, and now the headache was back in full force times two. I wanted to cry again. My head hadn’t hurt this much since…hell, probably infantry training at Camp Geiger; I’d sustained a concussion during an exercise. But at least they’d given me the good painkillers.

Where were those now?

I got in the cab and rested my bag on my lap, and I just prayed traffic wasn’t too horrible. We didn’t live far from here, so fingers crossed, we’d be home ASAP.

Roe’s restless knee-tapping and fidgeting didn’t help, though. I scowled tiredly at his legs as he gave the driver our address.

“Why’re you bouncin’ around like Colin tryna prove he’s not tired?” I asked.

He huffed out a breath and scrubbed his hands over his face, the tapping slowing down. “I made the mistake of catching up on my messages on the plane.”

I remembered. Had I missed—

“I saved Sandra for last,” he said. “Now I wanna throw my phone in the ocean.”

Oh.

Sandra—why did her name leave a bad taste in my mouth? It felt like my brain was trying to jog a memory for me, but any type of jogging right now hurt too much.

“She’s comin’ home soon, right?” I scratched the side of my neck. Something about a breakup that wasn’t happening anymore. No, wait. It was gonna be complicated for a while. Because…because…because…

“Earlier than expected, too,” Roe confirmed. “She’ll meet me in Seattle on Tuesday morning so we can ‘talk about our situation.’” He made air quotes and a face.

What situa—

Oh hell. My eyes widened as everything came back to me in a painful rush. They were having a kid! Fucking Christ, how had I forgotten that? Roe was gonna be a dad, a thought that instantly filled me with happiness for him. Except for the Sandra part. I wasn’t a fan of their situation being complicated at all. Because…because… Shit, because Roe had promised commitment.

“You’re not actually gonna marry her, are you?” I kinda just blurted that out.

He sucked his teeth and looked out the window. “I hope not, but she left me a bunch of messages about how relieved she is. How relieved her dad is. He thinks it’s the only right thing. If we’re having a child, Sandra and I should be married.”

Jesus. I’d never met Sandra’s old man, but I knew of him, of course. He was a big name in pro athlete management. Football players and basketball players had made Thomas Stevens a multimillionaire.

The rest of the ride home was quiet, and I just couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he might be a married man soon. He didn’t even love the woman. He’d been moments away from breaking up with her when she’d divulged she was pregnant. What fucking decade had we traveled back to?

*

I gave Roe some space when we got home. His issues were far more pressing than mine, so I just told him I was here when or if he wanted to talk. I took a shower and crashed for a few hours on the couch. Every now and then, I woke up to hear Roe rummaging through the house. He was packing for his work trip and, knowing him, preparing mentally for the meetings he and Ortiz would have with the others involved in the project from the Northwest. It probably gave Roe a break from the shit with Sandra. Work had a way of offering us both solace.

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