4. Ben
CHAPTER FOUR
ben
HOSTAGE SITUATION
Lily, Wyatt’s little sister, has been bouncing across the living room cushions of my cousins’ house for twenty minutes straight, talking my ear off the entire time.
My cousin Ella sits on the armchair, scrolling through her phone, pretending she’s the one babysitting. Danny, her golden retriever, sits at her feet like he also needs a break from the four-year-old hurricane. Meanwhile, I’ve somehow been turned into Lily’s personal jungle gym.
“Do it again, Ben!” she squeals.
I groan dramatically. “Lily, I’m getting tired.”
“But you’re a football player! You can do this, you’re very strong. The strongest!” She grabs my hands and pulls me upright.
“Ella, stop teaching her the fine art of male manipulation.”
She snorts. “You did this to yourself. You’re too fun. She imprinted.”
“I think my spine needs a break.”
Lily giggles, launches herself onto my lap, and settles her tiny hands on my cheeks.
“You make everything so much fun,” she declares.
And damn it if that doesn’t catch me completely off guard.
We finally put on a movie, something with singing animals, and Lily curls up against me, head on my shoulder, humming softly.
Five minutes later, she’s out cold. The tiny tyrant finally ran out of battery.
I shift an inch to get comfortable.
Danny immediately plops down across my feet like a sandbag, sighing dramatically, pinning me into the couch.
“Ella,” I whisper, “your dog is holding me hostage.”
She glances over, grinning. “He just wants to be included.”
“He’s getting heavier,” I whisper back. “I can’t feel my toes.”
Danny thumps his tail against the carpet smugly.
Ella nods at Lily. “You’re trapped anyway.”
I look down at the tiny human drooling on my shirt. And it does something weird to me, something soft and stupid. This right here feels… good. Comfortable. Like maybe I’m not the walking cautionary tale I tell myself I am.
Ella’s voice breaks my thoughts. “You’re super cute with her.”
I shrug, trying not to look like I’m swallowing a compliment whole. “She’s easy.”
“She’s not,” Ella says quietly. “She just loves you.”
That hits deeper than I want to admit.
I lean my head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling so I don’t have to see the knowing look on her face.
“Hey, El?” I murmur. “If Danny tries to eat my socks again, you’re paying for new ones.”
“He won’t.”
And then of course he starts gnawing on my sock.
“Ella…”
She laughs into her sleeve. “I’ll Venmo you.”
I shake my head, but I can’t stop the smile tugging at my mouth. Lily is warm and heavy on my chest, Danny is vibrating with mischief on my legs, and Ella looks at me like she’s seeing something I didn’t mean to show.
And for a second, just one, I let myself imagine I could belong in a moment like this.
Then I shove the thought away.
The only girl I’ve ever wanted this with wants nothing to do with me. And rightfully so. I’ve been texting and calling her for weeks now, and she hasn’t responded once.
She deserved better. She still does. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying.
Uncle Jack, the triplets’ dad, got back from a work trip this morning and immediately declared a family dinner, which is how I end up almost fainting in my cousins’ house on a night that changes everything.
Golden hour spills across the backyard, the kind of light that makes everything look happy. Steaks are on the grill. Glasses of iced tea are sweating in the heat. Danny’s stationed under the table, staring at each of us like he’s manifesting steak and never losing hope.
It’s peaceful.
Which is exactly how I know something’s about to go wrong.
Ella clears her throat.
“So, I wanted to talk to you guys about a few things.” She reaches for her drink like it’s no big deal. “Good things, if you keep an open mind.”
Forks pause. Knives hover. Leo leans back in his chair, eyebrow lifting. Mateo’s knee starts bouncing under the table.
The humor evaporates instantly. This one has scared us to hell and back already, so we’re all bracing.
Uncle Jack’s voice is gentle, but his grip tightens around his steak knife. “Okay. Go ahead, honey.”
Ella takes a breath. “The first one is that Katy Montgomery is pregnant.”
The world tilts.
Pregnant.
Katy. My Katy.
My fork slips from my fingers, clattering against the plate. Heat rushes up my neck so fast I feel dizzy. For a second, I can’t breathe, like my lungs just forgot what they’re supposed to do.
Ella keeps talking, but it takes effort to track her words.
“She’s Dr. Meier’s patient,” she continues, “and I’ve been sitting in on her checkups. She has some health stuff going on, and we’re keeping stress as low as possible.”
Health stuff.
My hands shake as I force myself to pick my fork back up. Katy’s pregnant. And something’s wrong. The memory of that night slams into me, and regret hits me so hard it makes me dizzy.
Ella’s tone sharpens. “Which is why I need you all to promise to stay calm for the next part.”
“There’s a next part?” Leo asks, eyebrows up.
“Promise.” She fixes us with a look that says don’t even try me.
I groan. “You’re killing me. Just tell us.”
“She’s going to do this on her own,” she declares. “There’s not a dad in the picture, and that’s how she wants it. So, if you see her, you will not ask questions. No prying. No detective work. Just pretend it was immaculate conception and be excited. Got it?”
My vision tunnels.
No dad in the picture.
Immaculate conception.
Jesus fuck. I’m a fucking idiot.
Ella’s green eyes land on me. “Ben? You okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I shake my head too fast. “Yeah. Fine. Just…shock. Known her forever, you know?”
Her expression softens. She believes me.
Around me, the conversation resumes, with Jack offering legal advice, Mateo and Leo swearing they won’t interrogate Katy, Ella shooting everyone her patented don’t even think about it look.
I sit there, numb, while my steak goes cold.
Pregnant.
No dad.
Doing it alone.
My brain spirals, replaying the way I walked out that night. The look on Katy’s face. The call I never made.
What if…
What if I’m the dad?
The thought somehow doesn’t scare me.
What does scare me is the possibility of not being there.
Like hell I won’t be in the picture.
I mumble something about errands after dinner and bolt before anyone can stop me. My thoughts won’t slow down. I don’t realize where I’m going until I’m parked in front of her house.
The porch light’s on, and her car’s in the driveway.
And now that I’m here, I realize I have absolutely no plan.
What do you even say to the girl you ghosted who might now be carrying your baby?
Still, I knock.
She opens the door barefoot, her glossy dark hair in a messy bun, wrapped in a hoodie that definitely used to be mine.
There’s the faintest curve beneath the hoodie now. The sight hits low and hard, like I missed months of something that mattered more than anything else.
I can’t decide if I want to fall to my knees or run.
“Katy.”
She blinks when she sees me, then crosses her arms like armor. “Ben?” Her voice goes sharp. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard. About the baby.”
Her jaw tightens. “And now I’m worth more than a few texts three months too late?”
“That’s not…” I swallow. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Why do you care so much now? Because I’m pregnant? It might not even be yours.”
The words land like a punch.
“Katy.” I step closer. “That doesn’t make me care any less.”
Something flickers in her eyes—hurt, exhaustion, something dangerously close to hope—but it vanishes just as fast.
“Well, don’t,” she says flatly. “You made it pretty clear how much you cared when you didn’t even text me after that night. You don’t get to suddenly show up now.”
Silence stretches between us.
“I should’ve called right after,” I admit. “I wanted to. I just didn’t know what to say.”
“You could’ve said anything. A simple hey, Katy, how are you? Or I had fun. Or even just—” She swallows. “Anything.”
Her voice cracks. “But you didn’t.”
She steps back, gripping the door. “Go home, Ben. You don’t get to do this now.”
My pulse pounds. “Ella said you’ve got health stuff. Is the baby okay? Are you okay?”
Her expression shifts, not soft, exactly. Startled.
“We’re fine,” she says quickly. “And we’re none of your business.”
The words cut deep.
“Don’t say that,” I whisper.
“You had me,” she snaps. “And then you walked away without even a pathetic emoji. So, forgive me if I don’t swoon when you suddenly say you care.”
The guilt burns through me, sharp and deserved, but underneath it’s something stronger.
“I messed up.” I drag a hand through my hair. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle us. But this?” My voice roughens. “You? The baby? I’m not walking away.”
Her jaw tightens. “You can’t only be here because of the baby.”
I step closer, unable to stop myself. “I’m not. Katy, you know I’m not.”
Her eyes shine. For one second, I think she might let me in.
“No. I actually don’t know that. It’s too fucking late, Ben.”
Then she shuts the door.
The porch light clicks off, leaving me standing there alone.
KATY
The second the door clicks shut, I press my back against it and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor, hoodie sleeves pulled over my hands like armor.
My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might crack my ribs.
Ben actually came to my house. Stood on my porch. Looked at me, at my belly, like it mattered. Like I mattered.
I knew Ella was going to tell them today. I asked her to tell her family for me. She’d promised to be gentle, but that still meant I’d officially been presented to the Winters tribunal. I’d braced for the fallout.
I even braced for Ben.
What I wasn’t braced for was how much it affected me when he actually showed up. When he asked if I was okay. Some traitorous, pathetic part of me swooned.
Swooned.
As if him standing there meant something more than panic and guilt.
For one dangerous second, I liked that he worried. That he came looking for me instead of pretending he hadn’t heard.
And then the second passed, and I hated myself for it.
Because seriously, Katy? This is the guy who couldn’t even send a text after sleeping with you. After taking your virginity. He made you feel disposable. Forgettable. And now you’re supposed to believe he cares because he’s standing on your porch?
So, I did what I always do when I’m scared. I held my chin high and gave him hell.
He earned it.
Still… the way his face fell when I said the baby might not be his almost made me take it back.
And yet, Ben stood there and took it. Looking like the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders.
But caring isn’t the same as staying. So I protected myself the only way I knew how: I shut him out first.
Ben Davis doesn’t want me enough. And I will not be stupid enough to forget that again.
Except later, when I’m sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling, one thought loops through my head like a betrayal: I really hope the baby is his.