Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
BILLIE
My hand is still in Emmett’s and resting on the stick shift when he pulls up along the sidewalk outside my apartment building and puts the car into park.
Other than a conversation about Blake, we haven’t talked any more about us.
Letting Emmett know that it was okay for him to choose his own peace of mind and respect for my dad over me was the right thing to do, even if it hurt like hell to say it.
The Billie before the heartbreak of Tucker would’ve clung on to Emmett with everything she had, and at times, that was exactly what I wanted to do.
Difficult lessons over the past few months have taught me that no matter how hard you try or how much you crave a person to be in your life, it’s ultimately them who has to want you.
And while Emmett is nothing like my ex-boyfriend, I need to accept that, in the end, he might not choose me.
The bright afternoon sky has turned overcast, an apt reflection of the mood settling between us.
Clearing his throat, Emmett squeezes my fingers in his palm, and my hopeful brain interprets that as his reluctance to say goodbye.
“You’re like no other woman I’ve ever met.” His labored voice sounds like he’s underwater, fighting for air.
The urge to invite him upstairs feels strong, but I keep my counsel, waiting to see if he’ll add anything more.
Emmett tips his head over his shoulder, face full of awe when he smiles at a wide-eyed Blake as she peacefully observes us both from the back seat.
“I do drive you especially crazy.” I force out the words, desperate to bring some relief to the moment.
He chuckles at that, eyes dropping to our joined hands. “Not just crazy, Bill. Fully out of my mind. In more ways than you could possibly imagine.”
Silent screams of, Kiss me, pinball around in my brain when an ambulance shoots past us. I turn and stare through the windshield, where I see a guy with his back to us hovering at the entrance to my building.
He presses another button on the intercom and waits a few seconds, throwing his arms out to the sides in frustration.
“Let me help you both upstairs,” Emmett offers, no doubt having noticed him too.
Throwing the driver’s door open, Emmett rounds the car, and I climb out. He pushes my seat forward so he can unclip Blake’s car seat before shutting the door behind him.
We’re partway to my building when the first hit of dread slams into me, pulling me to an abrupt halt in the center of the road. Since Emmett wouldn’t recognize Tucker, he keeps walking, stepping onto the sidewalk with Blake secured in her car seat.
I know I need to keep moving forward and out of the road, but it feels like my feet are glued to the asphalt.
“Bill?”
Emmett’s call turns Tucker on his heel, and for the first time since I left Austin, heavily pregnant and with tears in my eyes, I come face-to-face with Blake’s father.
“Hey, Billie.”
The warmth in his greeting is not what I expected, and neither is the smile that tugs at his lips, revealing cute dimples that once drew me in but now make my stomach roll like I ate spoiled food.
Forcing my legs to move, I join everyone on the sidewalk, eyes flicking to Emmett’s face. Contrary to Tucker, his homicidal expression is exactly how I anticipated if he ever laid eyes on my ex-boyfriend.
Jaw ticcing, eyes burning, Emmett takes a protective step toward me.
“Why are you here, Tucker?” I work to keep my voice steady, keying in the code to my building while being sure to hide it from Tucker.
He follows me inside, and Emmett and Blake are close behind as I start hastily climbing the stairs.
When we reach my front door, I pause with the key in the lock, eyes back on Emmett as he stands behind Tucker, wearing the same murderous expression as before.
Tucker nods expectantly at my door, waiting for me to let him in.
While I was always aware that he could show up unannounced since my address was available in the child support documentation we both signed, I honestly never envisioned a time when he would.
“I’m here to talk,” Tucker eventually answers, like I haven’t already figured that one out. “And who the hell is he?” He motions to Emmett.
I ignore his question and the rude way he asked it and pause with my hand on the door handle, watching Tucker spin around and stroke a soft hand over Blake’s head.
Truthfully, I’m unsure how to introduce Emmett for fear of putting the wrong label on us.
Calling him a friend would be an injustice to how much he means to me, even if I just gave Emmett a route out of my life.
Emmett’s knuckles tighten around her car seat as Tucker straightens in front of him, offering out a hand for him to take.
Like I did a second earlier, Emmett completely ignores Tucker, eyes back on mine. He’s waiting on my instruction, and I get the feeling that he would do anything I asked of him.
I focus back on my ex. “To talk about what specifically?”
Tucker turns back to me, a confident smile overtaking his face.
There’s no way he can’t pick up on the charged atmosphere or the fact that a towering hockey player is around two seconds from taking him out.
That said, sports were never really his thing, so it’s likely he doesn’t recognize who Emmett is.
Thumbing behind him, he confirms my thoughts when he says, “How about we take this inside and away from the Terminator?”
If this whole situation wasn’t so fucked up, I’d be tempted to laugh at the accuracy in Tucker’s observations—Emmett’s looming stature would intimidate me, too, if I were a first-rate asshole.
Unlocking my apartment door, I push it open and stand to one side, and Tucker enters without a beat of hesitation.
He releases a low whistle as he takes in my home. “Wow, Billie, this place is”—he scratches the back of his neck, cringing on my behalf—“pretty fucking terrible.”
When Emmett takes a purposeful step forward, I move back into the doorway, preventing him from doing—or saying—something that I know would do neither him nor his hockey career any good.
Reaching out, I wrap my hand around the handle on Blake’s car seat, summoning my best reassuring smile. “I got it. It’s okay.”
He knows what I’m asking, and even if his leaving is the last thing I truly want, the cold reality is, Tucker is right. None of this has anything to do with Emmett, and he has no place being a part of our conversation.
He presses his lips together, and his thumb brushes along the outside of my hand before he releases his hold on Blake’s seat.
“I’m going for a walk, and I won’t be any more than a few blocks away. My phone will be on loud, and my car will remain parked outside.”
My forced smile is all the confirmation he needs, and he moves to leave, turning over his shoulder to look at me until the door closes behind him.
“I know he isn’t your dad.” Tucker gets straight into it, taking the steps up to my kitchen.
His eyes are full of mirth as he moves to sit at the small island, waving a friendly hand at my daughter as I set her car seat on the floor by the door and lift her into my arms.
“But he sure as shit looks old enough to be him.” He snickers, folding his arms across his chest.
“He’s a family friend.”
He narrows his eyes at me, suspicion reminiscent of Maria. “Okay, well, if he isn’t your boyfriend, then I guess I’m good to press on with what I came here to say.”
It’s not lost on me that Tucker hasn’t once asked to hold his daughter; it’s the kind of detached behavior I witnessed repeatedly from his parents toward him.
“Do you want to hold Blake?” I offer, stepping into the kitchen.
He shifts on the stool, clearing his throat as he does. “I’ve never held a baby before, and I don’t want to hurt her.”
Neither had I until I gave birth.
For the sake of our daughter, I force a sweet smile, taking a seat on the opposite side of the island.
Blake wriggles in my arms, a hungry whimper leaving her lips.
If the atmosphere wasn’t awkward before, it sure as shit is the second I unclip my feeding bra, exposing a breast for Blake to latch on.
Tucker doesn’t know where to put his eyes, and I can’t deny the way his discomfort bolsters my confidence. Six months ago, he was my senior, yet today, it feels like I’ve gained the strength of a thousand lifetimes in his absence.
I keep my eyes locked on Blake’s, determined to force Tucker to lead the conversation. After all, he’s the one who made the trip to be here.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past few weeks.”
A softer version of Tucker’s voice pulls my attention back to him.
“About what?”
He casts his eyes out the kitchen window, bracing his elbows on the counter in front of him. “About a lot of things that went down, but specifically about you and me.”
In the blink of an eye, the confidence I was previously feeling fades, replaced with total uncertainty.
Of all the potential reasons he had to show up here, I never expected our former relationship to be one of them.
That day I called him about the scan told me everything I needed to know about his feelings and how much Tucker truly cared about us.
Or at least I thought it did.
With his pointer finger, Tucker absentmindedly draws patterns on my kitchen island, lips twisting to the side. “I know that I’ve been a jerk, so you can spare me the reminder.”
My brows shoot to my hairline. “Who’s to say that was what I was thinking?”
Beneath hooded eyelids, he flashes me a look I can’t decipher. “Why wouldn’t you be thinking that? I know I would.”
This is Tucker’s version of an apology, and while I really didn’t need one, my daughter definitely does.
“If you’re trying to tell me that you want to be a part of Blake’s life, then just know that I would never stop you.”
His pointer finger pauses in place, although he still doesn’t look at his baby girl. “I want to be a part of both of your lives.”