Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
I’d had dreams about leaving Harper Tinsley shocked speechless.
Of course, in all those dreams, I’d never imagined it was because she walked into my house to find me covered in baby spit-up with a crying infant in my arms who was apparently my kid.
My daughter.
I was still reeling, although a night of very little sleep and a crash course from YouTube about how to care for a baby made everything a lot more real.
I’d watched approximately seventeen videos on diaper changing, twelve on burping techniques, and one very concerning one about what different types of baby cries meant.
Turns out babies had more vocal range than I’d given them credit for.
But in all the chaos that had become my life, I’d completely forgotten about meeting up with Harper to discuss our project.
“I’m gonna need to raincheck our project stuff,” I said, adjusting Aurora in my arms as she made those soft whimpering sounds that meant she was either hungry or needed a diaper change. Or both. It was always fucking both. “Just give me a couple of days.”
Our proposal wasn’t due yet, so I figured we had some time. And I really needed to wrap my head around the clusterfuck that was my life before I could even think about classwork.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said, still obviously stunned. She parted her lips like she wanted to say something else, but then snapped them closed and gave a hasty wave before retreating out the front door.
I watched her go, noting the way she kept glancing back over her shoulder like she couldn’t quite believe what she’d seen. Fair enough. I was having trouble believing it myself.
Liam leaned against the doorway to our kitchen, looking almost as exhausted as I was sure I did. He’d been up half the night helping me figure out formula mixing and why Aurora seemed to cry every time I tried to put her down.
“You texted Ava yet?” he asked, nodding toward Aurora who had finally settled into a drowsy quiet against my chest.
“Nope.”
“Better do it soon,” Liam said. “She’ll be pissed if she has to find out about this through the rumor mill.”
I should’ve texted her last night, but Aurora had become priority number one, and everything else had fallen by the wayside. But it didn’t sit right with me that Harper knew before my sister.
As if summoned by our conversation, I heard the front door open and close, followed by Ava’s voice calling out, “Andrew Christopher Dumontier, you better have a good explanation for not texting me back last—”
She appeared in the kitchen doorway and stopped dead, her eyes going wide as she took in the scene. Me, standing there in yesterday’s clothes with what was probably the worst case of bedhead in recorded history, holding a tiny baby like my life depended on it.
“What,” she said slowly, “the hell?”
“Remember how you always said you wanted to be an aunt?” I said weakly.
Ava’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to speak. “Drew. Is that…?”
“Yeah.” I shifted Aurora slightly, and she made a soft sound that burrowed itself deep into my chest. How was it possible to already be so protective of someone you met less than twelve hours ago?
I’d never believed in love at first sight, but now I kind of wondered if there wasn’t something to that notion.
“Her name’s Aurora, but I’ve been thinking about calling her Rory. ”
Without another word, Ava crossed the room and held out her arms. I hesitated for just a second—I’d barely let anyone else hold her since I’d found her—but this was Ava. My twin. If there was anyone I trusted with the most important thing in my world, it was her.
I carefully transferred Rory into Ava’s arms, watching as my sister’s face transformed into an expression of pure wonder as she looked down at the baby. Ava automatically started swaying in that universal baby-soothing motion.
“She looks just like you,” Ava said, studying Aurora’s tiny features. “I mean, obviously prettier, but she definitely has the Dumontier nose, cheeks, and hair.”
I looked down at Aurora, trying to see what Ava was seeing. The wispy hair was definitely a sandy-brown color similar to mine and Ava’s. Even though I’d asked Tinsley if this was her doing, I knew in my heart without a doubt that this baby was a Dumontier.
“Drew,” Ava said quietly, still swaying with Aurora, “what are you going to do about school? Hockey? You can’t exactly bring her to practice or games.”
The practical questions I’d been avoiding all night hit me like a freight train.
Fuck. I hadn’t thought past the immediate crisis of keeping Aurora fed and alive.
But Ava was right—how was I supposed to balance everything?
The guys had been helpful last night, but they couldn’t babysit every time I had commitments.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I haven’t figured any of that out yet.”
“What about Mom and Dad? Have you called them?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Not yet. I wanted to…I needed to get my head around it first.”
Ava nodded like she understood. “They’re going to want to help, you know. Mom’s going to go completely overboard with baby stuff.”
She wasn’t wrong. Our mom would probably buy half of Target’s baby section.
“You sure about this?” Ava asked, her voice even quieter now. “I mean, you could get a paternity test if you wanted to be certain. And if she is yours…Drew, no one would judge you if you considered other options. Adoption—”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “I’m keeping her.”
Ava searched my face. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, you know. Being a single dad in college isn’t going to be easy.”
The questions she’d asked just a minute ago hung in the air between us, and I wished I had answers for her.
What was I going to do?
I looked at Rory, sleeping peacefully in my sister’s arms, and a deep calm settled in my chest. It was a sense of certainty, even though everything else in my life was now up in the air. When it came to Aurora, I would just have to figure it out because she wasn’t going anywhere.
Truthfully, even though I was sure about keeping her, I was still scared as hell.
Twenty-four hours ago, my biggest worry was whether or not I’d ever get laid again on this campus after Harper’s poster prank.
Now I was responsible for a tiny human who depended on me for everything.
I had no idea how to balance being a dad with hockey and school.
I didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid, and YouTube videos could only teach me so much.
But looking at Aurora, seeing her little fist curled against Ava’s shirt, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each breath as she dozed off to sleep—none of that mattered.
The fear, the uncertainty, the complete upheaval of my life plan.
None of it changed the fact that she was mine, and I was going to take care of her.
I’d always thought I had time to figure my life out. Time to fuck around and date whoever I wanted and focus on hockey without worrying about the future. Time to grow up gradually, when it was convenient. But Aurora didn’t care about my timeline. She needed me now, exactly as I was, ready or not.
And I was going to be ready. I would do everything in my power to be the best dad I could be for her.
“I’m sure,” I said. “Even if a paternity test came back negative, I’m keeping her.”
Ava studied my face for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Then we figure it out together.”
The simple acceptance in her voice, the automatic “we,” eased a little bit of my stress. It was another reminder of how lucky I was to be surrounded by so many people willing to help me.
“Mom and Dad are going to flip,” she said, but she was smiling a little.
“In a good way or a bad way?”
“Good way, probably. You know Mom loves babies. She’ll probably cry happy tears and buy out every baby store in a fifty-mile radius.” Ava nibbled her lip. “Coach Maxwell’s going to need to know.”
Another thing I hadn’t thought through. Coach was pretty understanding about personal stuff, but this was going to affect my availability for practice and travel. Our season was coming to an end, so I really just had to juggle the next month. I couldn’t even think about next year.
“One thing at a time,” I said, more to myself than to Ava. But even as I tried to focus on the immediate challenges, I knew why none of the logistics really mattered. Family was everything to me. Always had been. And this little girl? She was my family now.
Maybe I didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing. Maybe I was going to screw up more times than I could count. But I was going to figure it out, because that’s what you did for family. You showed up, you did the work, and you didn’t give up.
Aurora was counting on me now. And I wasn’t going to let her down.
I’d been checked into the boards by guys twice my size and survived Coach Maxwell’s character-building wind sprints, but nothing prepared me for watching my parents meet their granddaughter.
My mom burst through the front door like a tornado, zeroing in on Rory in my arms with laser precision. “Oh my goodness,” she whispered, reaching for her granddaughter. “Drew, she’s absolutely perfect.”
Dad followed behind with his usual unhurried pace. While Mom was a hurricane of emotion, Dad was stoic, never revealing too much of what he was feeling. “She looks just like you did,” he said, his hand settling on Mom’s shoulder. “Got the Dumontier nose, that’s for sure.”
I’d been worried about how this meeting would go.
My parents were always supportive, but I also knew that CFU students weren’t the only ones who thought I was just a hockey-playing ladies’ man.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of seeing my parents doubt in my ability to be a dad.
I’d even asked them to hold off coming by so soon, but my mom wouldn’t even hear it.
I knew the second I hung up the phone that they’d be on their way.
And I was relieved to see the pride and love shining in my mom’s eyes instead of the judgment I’d feared.
Dad clapped me on the shoulder. “How are you holding up, son?”
“I’m figuring it out,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “Just hoping I don’t completely scar her for life.”
That was an understatement.
The front door banged open again, and Ava burst in with so many shopping bags she looked like she’d mugged a Target delivery truck. “Mom, I thought you were exaggerating when you said you’d bought out all the local baby boutiques,” she said as she dropped the bags on the ground.
Ava moved closer to Mom. “She’s even cuter in person, right? Like a tiny grumpy Drew but adorable instead of annoying.”
“Thanks for that,” I muttered.
While Ava unpacked groceries and baby supplies that could stock a small department store, my dad and I put together the crib my parents had bought. They’d insisted on helping me out, and I wasn’t going to turn down their generosity.
“Oh, this fits perfectly,” Mom said, straightening a stuffed animal in the crib. When she faced me, the expression on her face made my chest tight. “I’m proud of you, Drew. I know this isn’t what you planned, but even in the few hours we’ve been here, I’ve seen how much you love on that baby girl.”
My voice was hoarse. “Thanks, Mom.” I’d been bracing for a lecture about responsibility or suggestions that I couldn’t handle this, but they’d completely surprised me. “That means a lot.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” Dad said quietly. “Stepping up. That’s what matters.”
Emotion clogged my throat. “Thanks, Dad.”
They stayed for dinner, my mom insisting on cooking for all of us, and as scared as I was that I might fuck up this whole dad thing, I now felt confident that I wouldn’t mess it up too badly. Not with this many people in my corner.