Chapter 40
Tracy
Beads of moisture run down the glass of water in front of me, soaking the napkin beneath. I’ve already ordered a shot and a beer for Whitney—her usual—and it sits on the other side of the table, taunting me.
God, I could use a drink, if for no other reason than to calm my nerves.
I gulp down half the glass of water instead.
My random bar choice turned out to indeed be a grungy dive bar, but it’s quiet and a small crowd, and I sink back into my booth feeling just a tiny bit more at ease.
Until Whitney storms in like the hellfire she is.
“We should have gone to Connor’s,” she says in greeting as she slides into the booth across from me. “Every single person in here is like twice my age and I’m never going to find my soulmate in places like this.”
I snort. “I don’t think you were going to find your soulmate at Connor’s, either.”
“No,” she agrees. “But at least I had Connor there as a backup option.”
“Didn’t you two used to date?”
“Yes.” She quirks a brow at me. “Which is how I know he’s amazing at—”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Please don’t tell me.”
She laughs, throwing her long black hair over her shoulder. “So, what’s up? You look like you either saw a ghost or had the worst day of your life—no offense. Did you find out who vandalized your apartment?”
Since Blake didn’t want to involve the police or tell anyone about Lucas’ involvement in the demolition of my apartment, we’ve been telling everyone it was a random break in.
It makes me even more nervous about the entire situation.
I’m worried Blake is keeping things quiet because he’s going to do something drastic, and I can’t have him doing that.
Especially now that he has a child on the way.
Tears spring to my eyes before I can even attempt to stop them, and Whitney’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
I grab the napkin under her beer and use it to blow my nose, the damp material making things worse. She grabs her purse and digs through it, then tosses me a little pack of tissues.
“Thanks,” I mumble, my voice nasally, because no matter how hard I try, I cannot get my emotions in check and the tears won’t stop coming.
Whitney throws back her shot and patiently waits for me as I fail to compose myself, before finally asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I nod, but say nothing, as I try to pull myself back together enough for this conversation. My chest gets tight and I sniffle obnoxiously, my breathing sporadic as the events from earlier today finally sink in and feel real.
“Did you and Blake break up?” she asks gently.
I shake my head.
“Did you have a fight?” she presses.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt, then let out a shuddering breath as an invisible weight lifts off my shoulders.
Whitney’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open, just for a second, before she squeals. “Oh my god! Blake’s going to be so happy!”
“He’s going to leave me,” I squeak as I dab at my eyes with a tissue. “This is too new, Whitney. We’ve barely even started dating.” If you can even call it dating. We went from tormenting each other to accepting the connection between us so fast, I don’t even know what we’re doing.
“He loves you. More than anything. I knew it long before he did.” She smirks at me. “I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s like he doesn’t even know what to do with how head over heels he is for you.” She grabs her beer and takes a long swig.
“What if he’s upset? I don’t even know if he likes kids,” I admit.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, spinning the beer bottle in her hands absentmindedly. “Because he’s going to love your kid.”
“You think so?” My eyes get watery again, but for a different reason this time.
“Yeah, I do. He’ll support you through anything, Tracy. Blake is fiercely loyal to the people he loves, and that includes you now, too.” She tips her beer toward my stomach. “And that little squirt growing inside you.”
Fresh tears leak from my eyes, and Whitney holds up her hands. “Hold on. Hold the tears.” She slides out of the booth and heads to the bar, returning a few minutes later with some more shots and a bottle of something. “This calls for celebration.”
“I can’t drink, Whitney,” I say as she sets everything on the table.
“Oh, these are for me.” She slides the shots to her side of the table to join the empty one I bought her earlier. “But this is for you, mamma.”
She sets the bottle in front of me, and I snort when I see that it’s sparkling water. “Fancy,” I tell her.
“Only the best for you.” She winks at me, then slides into the booth and raises one of the shots for a toast. “To me, for becoming an aunt.”
She throws back the shot and I laugh, cracking open the sparkling water to top off my glass.
As soon as she sets her glass down, she picks up the other shot, raising this one and saying, “And to you and Blake, for finally listening to me and getting together.” I roll my eyes at her. “And to your growing little family.”
I sip my sparkling water and Whitney throws back her second shot and slams the glass back against the table. “Fuck,” she croaks. “That was nasty. Even the top shelf liquor here blows. Remind me why this place is great?”
“It’s not,” I say, laughing. “I’ve never been here before. I just didn’t want to go anywhere we might know someone.”
“You little witch,” she jabs. “But you know what this means?”
I drop my chin into my palm, all the worry and dread I had earlier replaced with something light and full and warm. “That you get to pick the bar from now on?”
“Until the day I die.” She grabs her beer. “God, I can’t wait to drink with your child.”
“Whitney!” She is not corrupting my precious baby.
“What?” She shrugs. “Kids love me. So, good luck stopping us.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “At least wait until they’re a teenager.”
“Fine. Deal.”
“It wasn’t a deal,” I protest.
“It was, and it’s done.” She takes a drink of beer. “You know that kid is going to look just like Blake. The Frenshaw genes are strong.”
“Yeah,” I say, a smile growing on my face. “It is.” It will be a little dark-haired heartstopper, just like its daddy.
Whitney slides out of the booth. “When I get back from the bathroom, we’re talking names.”
“You do realize I just found out a few hours ago that I was pregnant, right? Maybe we can let it sink in a little before talking names.”
“Nonsense.” She waves me off. “Aunt Whitney already has some ideas.”
Whitney heads to the bathroom as I shake my head at her, but her excitement is infectious and my heart flutters as I pull out my phone to text Blake.
Everything will be okay. Of that, I’m sure.