Chapter Thirty-Three
DARCY
A week later, and I can still taste those damn burritos. They were that good. Let’s just say, my stomach wasn’t the only satisfied part of me that night.
Sitting at my desk at work, I squeeze my thighs together at the memories of the way Archer wrapped me around him in every way possible, trying to focus on the fall edit I need to have back to Janine in the next hour. Good job my first pass was excellent. All it needs is a light proofread.
I’m well over halfway through my final pass when I feel my bag buzz against my leg.
Being the queen of procrastination and apparently too damn obsessed with my boyfriend to hold off another half hour before I check it, I reach down and grab it.
Kendra: I’ve made an error in judgment, and I need one of you to bail me out …
Collins: This has got my name written all over it.
Jenna: Whatever you did, I’m pretty sure I can take your “error” and raise you several stupidity notches.
Collins: One at a time, please. Kendra, you go first.
Kendra: I kind of just dropped way too much of my salary on baby clothes, and now I have nowhere to hide the bags.
I snort out loud in the middle of the office.
Me: Girl, I’m ten weeks, and we’re still waiting on gender confirmation.
Kendra: I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it. The rompers were too cute, and then I saw these tiny little sandals, and it snowballed. Everything is gender-neutral.
Kendra: And have you checked your email? Because I NEED to know what you’re having.
I navigate to my email and refresh the inbox. Nothing. My heart sinks a little more. If news doesn’t arrive today, I’m fairly certain Archer will drive to the lab and run the test himself.
Me: Nothing yet, but we were told it could take a week or so. I need you all to remain calm because my boyfriend is about to burst a blood vessel. He’s the most impatient person on this planet.
Kendra: I still can’t believe you’re pregnant.
Collins: Your bank balance can though.
Kendra: True that.
Jenna: You can stash the clothes here. I promise I won’t go through them and squeal at their tininess …
Kendra: Lifesaver. I’ll be over later.
Collins: Next order of business: Jenna. How have you fucked up on this fine morning?
Jenna: If you take the word “how” and rearrange the letters to form a common pronoun, your question will be more accurate.
Collins: I mean, I’d rather not …
Me: Easy problem. So, who did you fuck?
Me: WAIT. WHO DID YOU FUCK, JENNA?
Jenna: I was horny, okay?
Kendra: WHO?
Jenna: One of the Storm’s team physios. We’ve had a thing for a while, and … yeah. I’m still in his bed, and he’s taking a shower.
Kendra: OMG, you fucked Phil, didn’t you?
Jenna: Yes.
Kendra: Girl, if word gets out, you’re both in so much trouble.
Jenna: I think that’s what made it so good—the forbidden nature of it all.
Collins: Is he kinky?
Jenna: Unfortunately not. Decent-sized cock though.
Me: I have no words.
Jenna: Oh, don’t pretend like you’re a good girl.
Me: True. The first time I had sex with Archer, we took photos.
Kendra: That’s my biggest fear—a sex video or a photo of me and Jack leaking onto the internet. I’d fly to the moon and never come back.
Me: I already deleted it—because same. It was still hot though.
Collins: Are you going to go there again, Jenna?
Jenna: Probably. Who knows? He isn’t boyfriend material, but I’m resigned to the single life. So, I might as well have fun.
Me: That’s what I was saying a few months ago. Oh, how the tables have turned.
Jenna: You mean by having the hottest guy in the NHL at your feet with his baby inside your womb, all while he worships the ground you walk on? I’ll take the surprise pregnancy to have that.
Me: When you put it like that …
Collins: Practical question, but what are you doing about your job?
I stare ahead into Janine’s office as she talks with Penelope over something, dread festering in the pit of my stomach.
Me: Actually, that’s a really good question and one I don’t currently have an answer to.
I was talking to Mum about my plans after maternity leave, and we hit upon a snag, which her lawyer brain is trying to work through.
My contract with Glide—and work visa—ends in just over eleven months, at the end of October, since they extended my initial twelve-month contract.
So, unless Janine offers me a permanent position beyond that point, then I’m out of work, and the baby will only be four and a half months old.
That’s if she doesn’t terminate my contract when I have to leave and give birth in June since that was never the agreement.
When I moved here, I figured I’d be able to find another job once I had some experience behind me, and I was prepared to take that risk.
But who’s going to take me on now? I refuse to go back to work after only a few months with our baby. The whole entire situation is shit.
Kendra: Wait, so having a baby in the US with an American man doesn’t mean you can automatically stay?
A wave of nausea passes over me.
Me: Nope.
Kendra: What does Archer say?
Me: I haven’t told him. I found out, like, two days ago, and I’m still trying to work through it. Mum is getting some advice.
Collins: You need to tell Archer.
I close my eyes, trying to temper my rapid heart rate.
Me: I know.
Collins: I’m so sorry this is happening, Babe. Am I the only one without drama in my life?
Kendra: It appears that way.
Me: I feel like a girls’ night is overdue. Drama requires cocktails. Or in my case, mocktails.
Me: I JUST WANT A COSMO!
Jenna: Agreed. And if this whole thing with Phil blows up in my face, I’ll be sure to have your quota of alcohol, trust me.
Kendra: I will return with dates, venues, and times. Girls’ night is on!
Dropping my head between my shoulders, I inhale a deep breath and blow it out for eight seconds.
It’s all going to work out, Darcy. You’ve got your mum working everything out.
Collins is right, and I know it. I need to tell Archer because I know he hasn’t considered any of this. We’ve spent the past five weeks trying to get our heads around becoming parents, and now this.
I’m halfway through the same page I’ve read multiple times when my phone buzzes again.
Jack: Is it me, or does it feel like I see you less now that you’re in New York than when you were in Oxford?
Me: It’s definitely a you thing. I’ve been coming to games. I’m just busy with work—so many deadlines.
Jack: Yeah, well, I miss my baby sister, even if you are annoying. My wife sees you more than I do.
Me: It’s funny you should say that because we’re arranging cocktail night. Girls only though, I’m afraid.
Jack: Are you seeing Liam again, and that’s what’s got you busy?
My brother’s question acts as a further reminder of how crazy my life has become.
Since I heard from Liam when he asked me to give him another chance and he wanted to visit me in New York, he hasn’t contacted me again, and I haven’t even thought about it.
It’s just as well, given the way he spoke to me.
A part of me hopes he got the message that I didn’t want to talk.
More likely, he’s already moved on to another girl and forgotten all about me a second time.
Whatever.
Me: No. He’s fallen off the radar, and I can’t say I’m mad about it.
Jack: So, what’s going on, Darcy? I’m worried you regret moving here.
Me: I regret nothing, and you don’t need to worry. There’s nothing back in the UK for me, other than an asshole Dad and a dickhead ex.
My stomach drops again. The last place I want to be is stuck in the UK.
Jack: When I get back from the next away series, we’re going out.
Me: As like a brother-and-sister bonding session?
Jack: Exactly that.
Me: Only if you’re paying.
Jack: When have you not made me pay?
I snicker, sending the next text.
Me: True. I want to go somewhere big and fancy and really expensive.
Jack: Well, given you’re the only other person I know who loves raw fish, I figured we could go to that new sushi restaurant across town. It’s lavish and expensive enough for your tastes.
Every single hair on my body feels like it’s standing on end. Jack’s right; I do love sushi. But I can’t eat it.
Get out of this one, brainiac.
Me: Already been there, and it wasn’t that great.
Jack: It opened three weeks ago. Who with?
Fuck .
Me: Some girls from work. Let’s just go to an Italian or something.
Jack: Boring.
Me: But at least the food will be nice.
Jack: And you will have Pinot Grigio on demand. I’ll book us a table.
Double fuck.