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  More silence. It was so heavy it bled through the phone and wrapped its way around my chest.

  “I’m sorry, Presley.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I swallowed the rising bile in my throat. “Anyway, I just wanted you to hear it from me. You know, before the rumor mill started churning.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  My chest twisted in agony at the coolness of his tone. Although I’d prepared myself not to expect much from him, there was a part of me that had held out a glimmer of hope that somehow my news might bring us closer. At the very least, that he would be willing to be a part of the baby’s life.

  “So, I guess I’ll see you back at school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.”

  Just as I was about to hang up, Jake’s voice stopped me cold, “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “Jesus, Presley, I can’t leave things like this between us.”

  Thank God. “You can’t?”

  “No.” His ragged sigh rumbled through my ear. “I’m fucking floored and don’t know what the hell to say or do, but I do want you to know you’re not in this alone.”

  Tears blurred my vision. “Really?” I choked out.

  “No. I’m not the selfish prick I used to be. For that reason, I have to take responsibility for my actions.”

  Since I didn’t know exactly what he meant, I replied, “You don’t know how much it means to hear you say that.”

  “I can’t promise much of anything, but regardless of what it takes, I’ll be there for the baby.”

  Swiping my eyes with the back of my free hand, I nodded my head. “That’s all I’m asking of you. I swear. This isn’t about us.” And that was the truth. While it stung a little that he wasn’t suggesting he reevaluate us, it wasn’t devastating. There wasn’t an us. Never would be. But I understood Jake. The Presley from last month would have looked at this baby as a way to finally have Jake for me and only me. But there was nothing romantic or loving about trapping someone into being with you.

  “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bye, Presley.”

  “Bye, Jake.”

  Chapter Two: Presley

  The Present

  “Presley?”

  My gaze snapped from the screen over to Marcia and ultimately out of the past. “Huh?”

  “I just asked if you wanted to know the sex?”

  “Um, yeah, I would.” I knew I didn’t need to look for Evelyn’s reaction. She was as anxious as I was to know what I was having. She’d barely been able to stop herself from buying unisex clothes as it was, not to mention talking about plans for converting her boys’ old playroom at her house into a nursery.

  “It’s a girl.”

  An elated cry bubbled from Evelyn’s lips, which she tried to contain by bringing her hand over her mouth. “I was hoping it was a girl,” she murmured.

  “You were?” I asked.

  Evelyn grinned. “After three boys, I couldn’t help but pull for a girl. I just won’t know what to do with myself when I get to buy pink frilly things.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I would say you guys are overdue for a girl in the Nelson house.”

  “What about you?”

  I nibbled my lip before responding. While a girl would be so much easier for a single mom like me to raise and relate to, I’d been holding out hope it was a boy. There was a weird part of me that wanted to give Jake a son—one that might follow in his footsteps on the sports fields. A son people might say, “Why he’s the spitting image of his father.” Maybe it was shallow of me because it some way that would be getting back at the haters.

  Now I knew it was a girl, remorse flooded me that I’d even had a preference. It was obvious this little girl was being sent for a reason. Since Jake’s death, I’d found myself to clinging to signs of purpose and meaning more than I ever had before.

  “Oh, I didn’t really care. Just that it was healthy,” I lied.

  “Yes, a healthy and happy baby girl.”

  I had to smile at her genuine enthusiasm. After Jake’s death, I hadn’t seen her smile too many times. When she did, it appeared almost forced. Although she was equally devoted to all of her sons, Jake was her baby, and the one son still at home. While she would have quickly faced having empty nest syndrome, it became impossibly harder with his death. “I have no doubt you will spoil her endlessly.”

  “I would agree,” Evelyn replied.

  With the gender revealed, Marcia finished up with the ultrasound. After she helped clean the goop off my stomach, I eased my dress down and got off the table. With the pictures of my future daughter in hand, Evelyn and I started out of the doctor’s office.

  “Do you have to get back to work?” Evelyn asked.

  For two years, I’d been working as a barista at a local coffee shop. Now that I was in limbo about what I was going to do about college, I wondered if I shouldn’t be on the lookout for another job. “Actually, I took today off.”

  “Then why don’t you let me buy you some lunch?”

  “You don’t have to pay,” I challenged.

  Evelyn smiled. “It’s my pleasure to treat.”

  Deep down, I knew it was. At the same time, I hated feeling like a charity case. “I’d love to have lunch, but let me treat this time.”

  Although she appeared conflicted, Evelyn nodded. “But only if it’s not somewhere expensive.”

  With a laugh, I replied, “Okay, I suppose that’s a reasonable compromise.”

  Fifteen minutes later we eased into a booth of my favorite Mexican restaurant. After we gave the waitress our drink orders, Evelyn asked, “When does your mom get back from Tennessee?”

  “Probably Friday. That’s when she’s scheduled the real estate agent to come take a look at the house.”

  Evelyn’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the menu. “Where will you go when the house sells?”

  “Not with her,” I quickly pronounced. There was no way in hell I was going to bring my baby into the orbit of my mom’s chaotic world. While I couldn’t give her much, I was going try my hardest to give her better than I ever had.

  “Where will you go?”

  Shrugging, I replied, “I’m not sure yet.”

  My declaration sent Evelyn’s dark brows shooting into her hairline. “You don’t have a place lined up?”

  “Before the baby, I was going to get an apartment around campus, but now school is up in the air.”

  “You can’t let your future get sidelined. It’s important for you to go to school.”

  “I know, but I just don’t know how to make it work.”

  “Martin and I have been talking about the baby…and you.”

  The mention of Jake’s father had me shifting in my seat. While Evelyn had always gone and above and beyond to make me feel welcome, Martin wore a constant disapproving look whenever I was around. When I expressed how I thought his dad hated me, Jake laughed and replied, “Don’t worry. He does the same thing to me. He’s a total asshole.”

  Of course, Martin had shocked the hell out of me the night I told them about the baby. Instead of angrily shouting at me, tears had formed in his eyes. It was the most emotion I’d ever seen him express, and that included seeing him at Jake’s funeral. “What were the two of you talking about?” I questioned.

  “About you moving in with us.”

  I sucked in a surprised breath just as the waitress interrupted us by bringing our drinks. Once she had deposited them, she took out her notepad to get our order, which prolonged my shock at Evelyn’s statement.

  When we were alone again, I began unwrapping my straw. “Martin wants me to move in with you guys?” I didn’t bother questioning what she wanted since I knew she would be giddy at the thought of me moving into Jake’s old bedroom. Or I suppose I should say her grandchild moving in. I guess I was more a means to an end since I was carrying said grandchild.

  “He was actually the one who broached the subject.”<
br />
  My fingers stilled around my straw. “Seriously?”

  “Do you think I would lie to you?”

  “No. I just can’t imagine Martin wanting me of all people to move in with you. We both know he wasn’t a fan of me when Jake was alive.”

  Shifting her gaze to the table, Evelyn replied, “While that might be true, it’s not the way he feels now.”

  “I’m sure if I wasn’t carrying Jake’s child, I would still be the slutty Patterson girl Jake hung around with, right?”

  Evelyn snapped to her gaze to mine. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  With an apathetic shrug, I dunked my straw into my drink. “We both know it’s the truth. You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

  After my proclamation, an awkward silence hung heavy in the air between us. Evelyn interrupted the silence by pushing away the chips and salsa between us and then taking my hands in hers. “You are not that girl anymore, Presley.”

  Tears stung my eyes at both her words and the forceful way she delivered them. “I want to believe that,” I whispered.

  “You must. We aren’t our pasts.”

  Sniffling, I replied, “That’s easy for you to say. I seriously doubt you were labeled the school mattress back in your day.”

  Evelyn winced. “No. I wasn’t. But I know a little something about people making unfair assumptions.” When I furrowed my brows at her, she added, “As I’m sure you’re aware, Jake spent the last months of his life transforming from who he was.”

  It was the first time the two of us had spoken of Jake’s transformation. I could only imagine we had avoided it this long because it was a prickly subject. Not because either of us didn’t welcome the evolution of Jake’s character from being selfish to selfless. It was more who had brought about that evolution.

  Maddie Parker.

  I’d spent the last several months of our senior year cloaked in spiteful jealousy over the new girl in Jake’s life. As our class’s valedictorian and a goody two-shoes preacher’s daughter, Maddie was an unlikely object of Jake’s affection. When you threw in the fact she was a virgin, it made absolutely no sense why Jake wanted to spend any time with her outside of the tutoring she provided him.

  But he had.

  In the end, she’d given him something none of the other girls in his life had—a purpose beyond his role as the drunken womanizer. I had to give her props because she’d managed to see in him something none of the rest of us had: his true self. He’d spent so many years of his life playing the role life that society had dealt to him: Little boys hit you because they liked you, men don’t cry, men don’t show emotion, boys only want sex from girls, popular athletes act like drunken fools.

  She’d been his salvation. Even though it was absurd at our age, Jake had even gone so far as to pawn his collection of baseball cards to buy her an engagement ring. But before he could give it to her, he’d died.

  “Yes, I saw his transformation first hand.” I didn’t want to admit to Evelyn that initially I hadn’t been a big fan of Jake’s change. Since he gave up drinking and parties, I didn’t see much of him. Throw in the fact, he’d become celibate, and there was really nothing more for us. But it wouldn’t have mattered considering his feelings for Maddie.

  Evelyn nodded at me. “Surely you see if Jake of all people can turn over a new leaf, anyone can.” She squeezed my hand. “I know you can as well.”

  “I—I want to.” And that was the truth. I didn’t want to be known just as the school slut who got knocked up senior year. I wanted to go to college and make my daughter proud of how hard her mom worked in life.

  “You will. You’re a strong girl, Presley. A lot stronger than you know.”

  Evelyn’s words sent tears streaking down my cheeks. “I don’t feel very strong.”

  “Most days, I don’t feel very strong either. I don’t want to get out of bed and face the world without Jake.” A hopeful smile flickered on her face. “But you make me strong through the life you’re carrying. And more than anything in the world, I want to give you and our granddaughter a home.”

  A home. I’d lived with my mother for eighteen years, and that one word had never described the place I’d laid my head each night. I had no idea if it was pregnancy hormones, or just the deep-seated sadness at my reality—I would be homeless—but a sob tore from my lips. I couldn’t get my head around the fact that Martin Nelson had offered the olive branch first. We want to give you and our granddaughter a home. How could I say no?

  Licking my lips that had run dry, I replied, “I’d really like that, Evelyn. Thank you.” And then more tears fell. Amidst those tears of desolation were tears of hope too.

  I won’t be alone.

  Chapter Three: Jonathan

  Glaring around the doctor’s office waiting room, I’d never felt more fucking out of place in all my life. Slouching down in my seat on the leather sofa, I jerked my ball cap down lower on my forehead, shielding my eyes. Apparently, I looked as out of place as I felt because I kept catching some of the others staring at me. I’m sure they were wondering what my deal was. Like what had happened to fuck up someone my age.

  In a way, I couldn’t blame them. Young people weren’t supposed to be burdened down. We’re supposed to roll through life without a care in the world. Living life to the fullest with late-night parties and huge social gatherings.

  Up until the last few months, I had fit that description.

  After glancing at my phone, I growled in frustration. Yesterday at this time, I would have been practicing with the team. Instead, I’d been unceremoniously sidelined from my starting position as a defensive back.

  “Mr. Nelson?”

  I snapped myself back into the present. “Yeah?”

  “You can come back now.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled as I pulled myself to my feet. I kept my head down as I shuffled across the waiting room.

  “Are you Dr. Zeigler?” I asked.

  The woman smiled. “No. I’m just Sue, the office manager.”

  I couldn’t help sighing with relief. It was tortuous enough thinking exposing myself emotionally, but it was even worse thinking of doing it to a woman. It wasn’t that I was some bastard woman hater, or I was some alpha douchebag who thought women were beneath me. It stemmed more from the fact I never felt like I could really be myself in front of them. Like I needed to project myself as they imagined I would be.

  We stopped at the last door on the left. “Please make yourself comfortable. Dr. Zeigler will be with you shortly.”

  Inwardly, I rolled my eyes. Like there was a chance in hell I could make myself “comfortable” in a situation like this. I reluctantly made my way over to the epically cliché “shrink couch” and flopped down.

  Before she closed the door, Sue asked, “Would you like something to drink? Water or tea?”

  I refrained from asking her for a shot of whiskey. Instead, I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  She nodded and then closed the door. After digging my phone out of my pocket, I started scrolling through the internet. Anything to stop the relentless reliving of my humiliation at practice a few days ago. But nothing helped. My mind ran a constant loop in my head like game videos I watched of my team.

  A few days ago when I had trudged inside the locker room at the Brock practice facility, it felt like I was tracking through quicksand up to my thighs. Like most days now. While I could’ve attributed it to my present hangover, I seemed to be experiencing the feeling most days without the alcohol. Lately, it took everything I had to keep from sinking beneath the mire.

  With the sudden lurch of my stomach, I’d grabbed the sides of one of the rolling trashcans and buried my head inside it before puking my guts up. I’d barely finished emptying the contents of my stomach when I felt a slap on my back.

  “You’ve got to learn to hold your alcohol man,” my friend and fellow player, Cade, mused.

  Turning my head, I stared up at him from still inside the trash can. “H
ow the hell are you not hurling your guts up? You had more than me.”

  “Because I took a hangover tonic this morning that I learned second hand from my old man and his boozing buddies.”

  Groaning, I pulled my head up and shoved the trashcan away. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

  Cade swept a hand to his chest. “Next time I swear.”

  “No, that was the last time I let you talk me into getting wasted on a practice night.”

  “You needed it, bro.”

  “I need to have my head in the game,” I replied, as I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth. Even through my hangover, I knew the truth in that statement. As a starting junior, I needed my mind on the game at all times.

  Unfortunately, the last few practices when we’d been on the field in scrimmages and drills, I hadn’t entirely brought my A-game. If I was honest, I hadn’t been bringing my A-game to anything including watching the films or workouts. In fact, my overall distraction bled into every facet of my life the past few months.

  Shuffling over to the sinks, I turned on the cold water and started splashing some against my face. As he pulled his practice jersey on over his shoulder pads, Cade asked, “How did it go with Kallie last night?”

  My mind went back to the girl I’d woken up next to. “Was that her name?”

  He chuckled as he shook his head at me. “Damn, bro, that’s cold.

  As I dribbled cold water over my head, I recalled a group of friends being in my dorm last night. Sometime after downing a six-pack, a tall blonde had started talking me up. When the others left, she climbed into my bed. Apparently, her name was Kallie. She was still passed out in my bed when I left this morning.

  With a shrug of my shoulders, I replied, “She didn’t give a shit about me—she only cared about hooking up with a football player.”

  “Trust me, I get it.”

  I grabbed a towel and dried off my face and head. Once I was finished, I followed Cade over to our lockers. After jerking my T-shirt over my head, I tossed it into the bottom of the locker before sliding off my shorts. I then went piece by piece putting on my practice uniform.