15. Katy
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
katy
KISSES IN THE RAIN
Ben and I spend the afternoon doing nothing and everything.
He insists on helping me cross the cobblestone street to my favorite coffee shop, even though I’ve done it alone my entire life. Then he steals half my muffin and gets me a decaf latte.
He pretends he’s not bored to death when I wander through the little local bookstore. He reads the back blurbs of the romance novels I pick out loud in a dramatic voice until I threaten bodily harm. He buys me all the books anyway.
We sit on a bench and people-watch. He tells me stories about football practice and road trips and things that feel impossibly normal.
Like this is a date between two normal people who like each other. Because we do, damn it. We really like each other.
But by the time we end up back at Grandma Patty’s house, I still haven’t found the words to tell him what Logan said when he came to talk to me.
And even though I’m not looking forward to this conversation, it feels wrong not to tell him.
I don’t know what’s going on between us exactly, but I know that he deserves to know.
We’re at the kitchen counter, leaning close without touching, when the words finally fall out of me.
“Logan said something… the other day,” I say.
Ben’s posture shifts immediately. A little tense but listening. “Okay.”
“He said he doesn’t know if we used protection,” I blurt out. “He doesn’t remember very clearly. And I don’t remember what happened either. We were both… um… drunk.”
Silence.
Ben blinks once. Then he exhales slowly, like he’s processing instead of panicking.
“Well.” He rubs the back of his neck. “That’s the first time I’ve ever wished my condoms were expired.”
I snort despite myself. “Ben.”
“I’m kidding,” he says gently. “Mostly.”
Then his expression turns serious. Steady. The version of him that always made me feel safe.
“Listen to me.” His eyes find mine. “I don’t care about genetics. Or biology. Or any of that.”
My throat tightens.
“I choose you,” he continues. “And I choose the baby. If Logan’s involved, we’ll figure it out. But I’m not going anywhere.”
I stare at him, stunned.
“Ben. You need to think this through. You didn’t even hesitate,” I whisper.
“Why would I hesitate?” he asks. “This isn’t a problem to solve. It’s a life to protect. Logan’s solid. If he’s in this, that just means we’ll have one more teammate.”
My breath catches in my throat. But I force myself to keep going. “Ben… I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s not the only one I was with around that time.”
Ben’s brows knit together. “How many are we talking about?”
“Four other possibilities besides you,” I admit quietly and brace for judgement.
He blinks once, clearly thrown, before straightening his shoulders slightly. “Okay. We’ll figure it out, Katy. With whoever is or isn’t on our team. I promise you.”
I stare at him, a little shocked. “Wow. You really are an athlete, aren’t you?”
He leans back against the counter beside me. “Listen, I grew up watching my uncle Jack struggle to raise three kids by himself. My mom always used to tell me it was up to her and Dad to be part of his team. It’s not easy raising a kid. The more help we get, the better.”
I stare at him, genuinely stunned. Somehow, impossibly, he’s making this feel less terrifying.
“How are you being so normal about this?” I ask.
He shrugs again. “The thing I care about most is you. The rest we’ll figure out. Would I prefer to be the biological dad? Absolutely. But if I’m not, that’s okay too. I’ll just be another type of dad. No matter what title I have, I will be there, Katy Cat.”
My mouth actually falls open.
“If you let me, of course. But that’s what I want.” He adds with that confidence I admire so much.
I’m speechless after that. And he doesn’t say much more. We order takeout. Watch a rom-com. We’re sitting close on the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His arm stays around me, like he’s already memorized how to make sure I’m comfortable.
Eventually, he stands and grabs his jacket.
“I should go,” he says reluctantly.
“Thanks for today.” I walk him to the door.
“Good night, Katy.”
I stand there watching him head toward his car, weirdly unwilling to let the night end. Unwilling to let him go. He’s so amazing and so hard to stay mad at.
That’s when the rain starts.
It comes out of nowhere, relentless. Grandma Patty’s porch light glows through the downpour as I stand there barefoot, watching puddles form in the gravel drive.
Ben is halfway to his truck when I call his name.
He turns, rain already plastering his hair to his forehead.
“Why didn’t you take an umbrella? You’re going to get pneumonia,” I call after him.
He laughs over the sound of the storm. “Careful, Katy. You sound like you care about me.”
I fold my arms, trying not to smile. “Maybe I do.”
He takes a few steps closer, stopping at the edge of the porch where the gutter overflows in a thin waterfall.
“You always have,” he says quietly. “Haven’t you?”
“Of course I have, you idiot,” I confess with a small smile.
The smell of rain makes everything feel too familiar. I really look at him, and the years between then and now blur until I see the boy from that bonfire night who pulled me into the rain when everyone else ran for cover.
“We somehow always end up in the rain.” I laugh softly.
His mouth twitches. “I remember dancing with you. I practically had to force you.”
“You did. I was so nervous that night.”
“I made you laugh anyway.”
Something in his voice cracks me open.
He steps closer, until the rain from the edge of the roof hits his shoulders but not mine.
“It really is my favorite memory,” I confess. “Not because of the party. Because of you.”
His eyes soften instantly.
I swallow hard.
He holds out his hand, rain running down his wrist and over his knuckles.
“Katy,” he says softly. “Dance with me.”
I almost laugh. I almost say no.
But his hand stays there. Patient and certain.
So I take it. I step off the porch and into the rain.
The rain is cool and steady, soaking through my dress in seconds. He pulls me in, one arm around my back, careful of the curve of my belly.
We sway there, lost in each other while the storm rages around us. And suddenly all the fear inside me feels quieter.
He feels like home.
“This is my new favorite memory,” I whisper.
He smiles against my temple. “Mine too.”
“I’m sorry, Katy.” His voice is low and rough.
I pull back just enough to look at him.
“I told myself I was doing the right thing after that night,” he says. “That you deserved freedom. That I was going to enter the draft, and you were just starting your life, and I had no business asking you to factor me into any of it.” He exhales. “And all of that was true.”
“But it was also easier than admitting I didn’t know what to do with how much you mattered to me. You’ve always been so far out of my league, Katy. I knew you’d figure that out eventually. I just didn’t want to be standing in front of you when you did.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve always known that.” I say. “I really am very far out of your league.”
He throws his head back and laughs.
And when he kisses me, slow, it feels like standing in the rain and realizing I’m no longer cold.