Chapter 4
Abby
This night just keeps getting better and better.
My enemy had to come save me. I hate him for that. For getting me pregnant. For sleeping with me in the first place.
You didn’t hate it when he kissed you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted in his entire life…
I sneak a peek over at Rhett as he drives. Everything about him screams confidence. I’m not usually attracted to the arrogant, self-assured guys that haunt the country club, but there’s a darkness inside Rhett that sang to me.
Plus, he’s genuinely hot.
At least our baby will be pretty.
The always present snark inside me dims as I imagine holding this baby one day. I didn’t exactly envision a guy like Rhett fathering a baby for me, but it’s happening. And, because he’s him, it’ll be cute and smart and likely athletic.
But it’ll also always be a stain on my family.
A mistake I gave literal life to.
When I think about this future baby in my arms, it doesn’t seem so awful, though. Aside from not being able to provide a home for it at the moment, I know I could love it. I’d do a hell of a lot better job than Mom did at loving me.
He asked me if I was ready to be a mother. I’m not. But I know deep down, I’ll figure out a way to be by the time this baby arrives.
So, I guess I’m not putting it up for adoption.
I sense that he’s going to hate that answer, especially considering that ten minutes ago, he wanted me to terminate the pregnancy. My palm goes to my stomach, and I cover it almost protectively.
Rhett can say whatever he wants, but this is my body, and I think I want to keep him.
Him?
I guess it’s better than calling it an it.
We drive in tense silence and neither of us speak until he pulls into an older townhouse community, Moonlit Gables.
He drives past a building marked “laundromat,” past a unit with a sign in the yard, and then to one with a soccer net set up.
The unit on the other side also has a soccer net and it’s evident the people in both townhomes use their combined yards to play full-on soccer games.
“Whose house are you dumping me off at?” I ask as he parks in front of the first soccer net unit.
“Riko Valentine. Er, last name is Blake now.” He sighs heavily as he shuts off the car. “He’s my best friend. His husband is Derek. They have an extra room you can stay in.”
I frown as I look up at the townhome. “Do they know I’m coming?”
“They’re about to find out.”
With those words, he snatches my backpack and climbs out of the car. Irritation simmers in my gut as I hurry after him. I hate that he’s treating me like a problem to solve. It reminds me of my father which has my stomach roiling in disgust.
Rhett beats on the door like a maniac. I hiss at him when I get close, but he ignores me. A few seconds later, a cute guy around our age answers the door. His features are twisted in confusion and when he sees me, his eyebrows hike up.
“Riko, this is Abby. Abby, Riko. Can we come in?”
Riko steps aside and Rhett pushes past him.
“Sorry,” I say sweetly. “He’s a spoiled prince who thinks he can treat everyone else like peasants.”
Riko’s grin is back and his eyes gleam with wickedness. “You’re not his girlfriend.”
“Oh, God, no. That’s my sister. Lucky girl,” I say dryly. “I know he’s your friend, but he’s a dick.”
He chuckles as he closes the door behind me. The townhome is decorated like two guys live here. Masculine grays and neutrals. Framed soccer memorabilia. The couch, however, looks quite cozy, so I help myself to it, grateful to be able to rest my back.
Tonight’s been exhausting.
“Want a beer or something?” Riko asks as he heads to the kitchen where Rhett disappeared to.
“I’d rather have a Sprite or ginger ale if you have it. Rhett makes me sick to my stomach.”
Riko snorts out a laugh and then disappears. I can hear them speaking in hushed tones. It’s about me. Obviously. Whatever is said, though, doesn’t scare Riko away because he shows up a minute later with a bottle of Sprite and a pack of peanut butter crackers. I could kiss him.
“Derek ran over to Reid’s to help him put together some furniture,” Riko says as he perches on the coffee table, watching me with keen interest as if I’m an exotic animal that’s escaped its cage.
Rhett saunters into the room and tips a beer bottle up. I cut my eyes over to him, noticing the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. I’m pretty sure I licked him there that night.
I force myself to look away from the stupidly hot man and smile at Riko. “Guess he told you I need a place to crash for tonight?”
“Yup,” he says, smirking. “Didn’t say why, though.”
As much as it would satisfy me to blurt out our situation just to make Rhett squirm with discomfort, I don’t. He said he wants to keep it a secret, so I’ll respect that. I may think he’s an asshole, but he’s still the father of my baby, and I need his help.
“It’s complicated,” Rhett grumbles after he finishes off his beer. “Catastrophic even.”
Me and Riko both snort in response. Okay, so maybe Riko is cool.
“May as well just say it, man.” Riko rubs his chin and squints his eyes like he’s thinking. “If I had to guess, you fucked your girlfriend’s sister and got her pregnant.”
I bark out a laugh.
Rhett snarls, “Fuck. That obvious?”
“It couldn’t be any more obvious,” Riko says with a shrug. “And, yeah, Abby, you can stay as long as you need. Derek won’t care. There’s a bed upstairs in the guest room.”
“I can take the couch,” I suggest. “Don’t want to put you out.”
Rhett shakes his head. “He has a bed. You’ll take it. For the baby.”
For someone who wanted to “get rid of” my little guy not even an hour ago, he sure has gone all in on protecting him.
“Can you watch her for a few minutes?” Rhett says as he heads for the back door. “I need to talk to Reid.”
“I don’t need babysitting,” I snap back.
He doesn’t bother responding and slips out the door. Riko waits all of three seconds before he blurts out, “I like you.”
“I thought he was your friend,” I say in return.
“He is. Opposites attract and all that jazz.” His grin drops. “I won’t lie, though. I’m worried about him.”
“He’ll survive,” I grumble. “I’m the one who has to be pregnant.”
He chuckles. “I meant I worry about his mental health. This whole thing isn’t exactly Rhett’s style. I’m sure it’s eating him alive. Plus, he thinks he’s in love with his girlfriend.”
I perk up at his words. “You don’t sound like you’re happy about that.”
“No offense,” he says, grimacing. “I know she’s your sister, but he acts differently with her. Like he’s trying to be someone he’s not. I don’t love it.”
This endears me to Riko even more. Despite Rhett being his friend, he can admit that Mr. Perfect is just a personality Rhett wears like a badge of honor. It’s not real. If it were, I wouldn’t be carrying his baby.
“How are you doing? Really?” Riko asks. “The tension is tense as fuck. My guess is he’s not leaving Angela for you and the baby?”
At that, I laugh. “No. We’re his worst mistake. He wanted me to get an abortion.”
Despite the laughter, my chest tightens. There’s a thread of hurt poking and pulling its way through my heart. I knew I was playing with fire when I slept with him, but it still sucks living in the aftermath of it.
He doesn’t want you and the baby.
He wants her.
“Rhett’s not a bad guy,” Riko says, reaching out to take my hand. “He’ll do right for the baby. I know he will.”
Honestly, as much as I want to argue, I know he’s right. Rhett picked me up from the cops, paid my tab, and is now securing me a place to stay. He may not want anyone to know he got me pregnant, but I don’t see him abandoning the baby at this point.
“Come on,” Riko says, pulling me to my feet. “I’ll show you to your room.”
The thought of ripping off my shoes and laying in an actual bed versus a couch sounds like heaven.
I jolt awake when I feel an intense presence. Rhett looms over the bed, glowering at me. His jawline is sharp and I distinctly remember licking him there, too.
“What?” I ask, voice groggy from sleep.
He gestures angrily at my feet. “What happened?”
I sit up, grimacing when my back zings with pain, to look at what he’s pointing at. Blood stains the socks in a few spots. My feet are rubbed raw from all that running.
“Blisters,” I say with a shrug. “Poor choice of shoes. You should always wear athletic shoes when you dine and dash.”
He sighs heavily as if I’m the most obnoxious person he’s ever had to deal with and then disappears. Whatever, asshole. I lie back down and am almost asleep when I hear him clear his throat. This time, when I blink my eyes open, he’s kneeling on the floor, a first aid kit open beside him.
“What are you doing—”
My words are cut off when he picks up one of my feet and gently begins peeling off the soiled sock. It hurts, but the tenderness in his action has me frozen, unable to look away from him.
“Men want virgins,” Angela says, voice sweet despite the cruelty in her words. “Especially good men.”
An old memory of something my sister once said to me takes this moment to assault my mind. I want to focus on the careful way Rhett tends to my bleeding blisters, but I can’t get the past out of my head.
“That’s a mean thing to say.” Humiliation burns hot through my veins. “Why would you say that?”
Angela narrows her eyes at me. “Just pointing it out so you don’t get your hopes up.”
“Am I hurting you?” Rhett asks, voice deep and husky, drawing my mind back to the present.
“What? No.” I shake my head and blink back stupid tears. “I’m fine.”
Am I, though?
Rhett watches me for a long beat as if he can read my mind. Have fun with that. It’s a wild, chaotic tornado of a brain. When he goes back to his task, my memories keep flooding in.
“That wasn’t my fault and you know it. I didn’t want it.”
“Right,” Angela says lightly, though her eyes still flicker with disgust for me. “Remind me why didn’t he go to jail then.”
She’s goading me at this point, and I refuse to let the wretch make me cry. We both know, in our world, you can pay to make anything go away. He certainly did and our father would do the same if the roles were reversed.
“You should ask Dad for a nose job for your birthday,” I blurt out rather than answering her rhetorical question. “I guess technically it would be from my hush money. You’re welcome.”
I ignore her snarls of outrage as I slip out of the ladies’ room at the country club. A few guys walk by, but the one with the curly blond hair and cruel slant of his mouth is the one I let my eyes linger on.
“Abby.”
The past fades but the same handsome guy stares back at me. The one my sister secretly had her sights set on. The one she alluded to whom wouldn’t want “damaged goods” like myself.
“Yeah?” I murmur.
He places the last Band-Aid on and cocks his head to the side. His curls are cut short, therefore nonexistent, but he’s as good looking as the day I first saw him. Maybe more so since he’s filled out with more muscle lately due to college sports.
“You’re not alone with this.” He gives my foot a pat and then gathers up the mess and supplies. “I’ll call you later with my plan.”
On the way out, he flicks off the light and closes the door. I curl up and palm my stomach.
“Did you hear that?” I say to the baby growing inside me. “Daddy has a plan.”