But I came here to show her that I want her, right? That I want this with her. That I’m showing up. Hell, if there was ever a reason to show up…except Lola is the reason.

  She hiccups as her body starts to tremble in my arms. Her silent tears turn to full body sobs and my stomach sinks.

  “Shh, baby.” I stroke her hair. “I got you, Lola. We will figure everything out. I promise, babe.” I keep her locked against me as I relocate us to her living room. Sitting down on a couch, I pull her on top of me, keep her ass glued to my thigh so I can feel her, hold her, see her damn facial expressions as we talk about this massive announcement.

  Lola is pregnant. I slide a hand across her flat belly. My baby is in there. My fucking baby. Wonder laced with panic travels through my body as I try to grasp what this means.

  I’m going to have a baby. I’m going to be a dad. Jesus, that’s a reality I never considered. A dad. I work a swallow, noting that Lola is staring at me and dragging the backs of her hands across her cheeks, trying to sop up her tears.

  “Talk to me, Lola,” I say quietly.

  She slides off my lap and drops to the space beside me on the couch. Still, I hitch her leg over my knee, keep a hand on her, as if touching her will keep our connection going as the world starts to fall apart around us. She’s crying as if she just lost her future and I’m so out of my depth here, I’m one lungful of air away from drowning.

  “I, I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers, her eyes ringed with fear. “I mean, I’m about to graduate.” She stands, twisting her fingers together as she paces in front of me. “I’m only a senior in college and I swore this would never fucking happen.”

  My eyebrows bend. “Get pregnant?”

  “Not without having my life together,” she hollers, throwing her arms out to the sides. “Jesus, River, I saw my parents try to navigate this dynamic my entire life. And trust me, they did it better than most.” She scrubs at her eyes. “I just, I don’t want this for my life.”

  Pressure clogs the cavity of my chest as I realize what she’s saying. She doesn’t want my baby. My kid. No fucking surprise there. I shake my head.

  That’s not what she’s saying, asshole. She’s freaking the fuck out because…she was a fucking virgin until a few weeks ago and now she’s having a baby.

  I let out a shaky sigh and try to turn my internal thoughts off so I can focus on Lola, give her what she needs since I sure as hell didn’t give her what she wants.

  “I’m a fucking statistic,” she sobs, shaking her head. She moves to the window, stares outside like a lost little bird, stalks back. “River, I’m repeating a pattern, here. Practically a teenage pregnancy before I have a career, a way of supporting myself, and—”

  “Lola, I’m going to take care of you.” I stand abruptly, hating that she’d think I’d abandon her. Abandon my kid with no financial means to survive. Fuck that. Fuck all of it because, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She shakes her head, her eyes sad. “You say that now.”

  “Because I fucking mean it. It’s the truth.”

  “River,” my name sounds shaky. Tears stream down Lola’s cheeks. “River, I’m your first girlfriend. We haven’t been dating long and I’m having a baby. That’s a lifetime commitment, that’s a forever connection.”

  “And you don’t want to be connected to me forever, is that what you’re saying? That the idea of being attached to me is—”

  “What happens when you fall in love for real?” she cuts me off. “What happens when your career blows up, because it will, Riv. You’re that good. And now, you’re saddled with the baggage of—”

  “Don’t talk like that.” I stop her stream of thoughts. Stepping to her, I grab her shoulders, slide my hands down her arms until our fingers link. “You’re everything, Lola. So is our baby.”

  She sobs.

  My throat is clogged with too many fucking emotions to name, my chest at risk of buckling under the pressure piling on it. “I promise you; I got you. I swear, Lola, that I understand this is so much harder for you. That you’re carrying a baby and I’m…I’m just the fuckup who put you in this terrible position.”

  She watches me closely, her tears slowing.

  “But I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. And we will figure this out, together.” My voice is strong, my decision resolute. “I know you didn’t want this, babe. And I’m so fucking sorry.” I shuffle closer, drop my forehead to hers. Breathe in her exhales and give her mine. “I got you. Please, Lola. Don’t shut me out when all I want to do is be here with you.”

  Her face crumples at my words and she falls apart again. Her legs give way and I catch her, swinging her into my arms. She gestures toward her bedroom, and I carry her there, depositing her gently in the center of her bed. I kick off my shoes before slipping in beside her. I hold her against my chest, run my fingers through her hair, and whisper every reassuring, affirming thing I can think of as Lola cries before drifting off to sleep.

  Then, I stay. Because I promised her I would.

  If I’m going to be a dad, I’m gonna be nothing like my terrible excuse for a father. I’m going to show up. Be present. Play an integral part in my kid’s life. Like Ken.

  Or…Brawler.

  My vision blurs as I think of him. He’s one hell of a parent and I can already feel his hate and disappointment when he learns I knocked up Lola. For the first time since I met the guy, I think I understand him. Or at least have an inkling about his motivations. I look down at the beautiful woman stirring in my arms. He did it all for her.

  If anyone in the world is worthy of love and sacrifice, it’s Lola. I drop a kiss to her forehead.

  Her eyes flutter open, and a soft smile curls her lips before remembering takes over. She lifts a hand to my cheek. “River.”

  “You’re okay, Lol.”

  “I’m sorry I was so terrible,” she murmurs.

  I shake my head. “You’re wonderful.”

  She snorts. More tears fill her eyes. How much can someone cry until there’s nothing left to sob out? “I’m scared.”

  “I know.” I brush her hair out of her face. “I’m way out of my element here, too. But if anyone could figure something out, it’s you. It’s us,” I remind her.

  She nods slowly.

  “We need to tell your dad, babe,” I say gently.

  I wait for fear to cross her expression but instead, a quiet acceptance, a silent resignation washes over her features instead. “I know.”

  I tilt my head, studying her. “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow,” she confirms.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  As if on cue, her stomach growls and she gives me a sheepish smile.

  I grin and pull out my phone. Messages from some of my teammates, from Cully and Johnny, litter my screen. I ignore them as I pull up a food app. “What are you in the mood for? Any cravings?”

  Lola chuckles and takes my phone from my hand, scrolling through delivery options. She settles on pizza and adds some cannoli “to mark the event.”

  She rests her head on my chest and I drape an arm around her, flipping through shows on Netflix.

  Lola and I share a quiet, meaningful, peaceful night locked in her apartment. Away from the world, we accept the changes that are coming, we acknowledge the life we created, we try to gauge the other’s thoughts and feelings on the subject. I sleep in her bed, with her long hair tickling my chest and the scent of her perfume invading me dreams.

  In the morning, I watch as she gets dressed. She keeps her face bare. Clad in an oversized hoodie and jeans, she looks too damn small, too fresh-faced, to be on the brink of motherhood.

  Again, my stomach twists at the position I thrust her in. If I believed in God, I’d ask Him for forgiveness right now. I’d drop to my knees and toss up some mumbled prayer about being a better man.

  Fuck, right now, I wish I believed in something. I wish I had that faith, if not for me, then for her. She glances at me over her shoulder, gives me a small smile, and my heart fucking breaks.

  We stop at my place so I can change. Roll through a drive-thru for coffee and bagels. Park in front of Brawler and Maisy’s place.

  I try to regulate my breathing as Lola punches the doorbell. Silence ensues for several long beats. The door swings open and sound rushes back, loud and jarring, like a rock concert.

  Brawler grins when he sees Lola. Then, his eyes fall on me, and his smile falls flat. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls. His eyes are narrowed, darting between Lola and me and the bag of bagels. Understanding fills his eyes and his mouth twists into the ugliest shape I’ve ever seen. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

  “Daddy, please,” Lola whispers.

  His eyes snap to her and whatever he reads in her face causes his to take on a sheen of fear. He steps back to hold the door wider, and we enter.

  Twenty-Four

  River

  Lola tucks her fingers inside the cuffs of her hoodie and won’t meet my eyes.

  Fuck. This is bad.

  “Axe? What’s going—oh, hey, guys!” Maisy waves, her usual sunny smile making an appearance. As she correctly reads the room, the tension that pulls tight between Axel, Lola, and me extends to Maisy. Her smile slips and her tone is cautious as she says, “Well, this is a nice surprise.”

  I hold up the bag of bagels and tray with four coffees.

  “Yay, coffee,” Maisy tries. “Shall we eat?”

  Lola forces a grin. “Thanks, Mais.” She slides onto a barstool at the kitchen island.

  Axel reluctantly jerks his chin to the stool next to Lola but I remain standing. Sitting will put me at a disadvantage and given the position I’m in, that’s the last thing I need.

  “What’s going on?” Maisy asks, keeping her tone light.

  Axel folds his arms over his chest, his biceps practically rippling with the energy I know he wants to unleash on me. He leans against the kitchen counter, glaring at me with pure hatred.

  Lola clears her throat. I step closer.

  Axel growls. Maisy grimaces.

  The oxygen in the room evaporates. Heat swirls around my neck. The periphery of my vision blurs and darkens.

  Fuck, man. Get it together.

  Lola fumbles with the strings of her hoodie and I reach for her, needing us to provide a united front. Needing her to know that I’m here. I got her. We’re okay; everything is going to be okay.

  I clasp her hand and hear the little sigh of gratitude that falls from her lips.

  “Fuck,” Axel mutters, straightening. His hands drop to the island, planting in the center and spreading wide. Hands that could wrap around my neck and choke me out and the truth is, he has every right to feel that way.

  I knocked up his virginal daughter.

  “Axel—” I start.

  “Daddy—” Lola says.

  “Have some coffee,” Maisy advises, taking two coffees from the tray and setting them in front of us.

  We both ignore them, our eyes glued to Brawler’s. Right now, he’s living up to his moniker and I know I need to be upfront. Address him man to man.

  “Lola and I are together,” I say, ripping off the Band-Aid.

  He hangs his head, staring at his hands as if they can provide some answers on where the hell he went wrong in his life. What did he fuck up that led his beautiful, brilliant daughter to seek out a screw-up like me?

  “It’s not a fling, Axe. It’s for real. I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care for Lola.” I keep my eyes trained on him. In my peripheral vision, I see Maisy clasp her heart. I feel Lola’s eyes on the side of my face, hopeful.

  But I’ll man up and be honest with her dad in ways I held back with her. In this moment, I’ll lay it all out on the table because I’m stepping up for my girl. Showing up for my family.

  Axe laughs, a mutilated, disturbing sound. “It’s for real? Yeah? How fucking long you’ve been together, behind my back, for you to know that it’s more than some passing thing?” His voice is eerily even, a man on the verge of erupting.

  “About two months,” Lola supplies. “It’s for real, Daddy.”

  I squeeze her hand in solidarity.

  “Well, isn’t that—” Maisy begins in a cheery tone.

  “Fucking ridiculous,” Axel interjects. His glare bounces between Lola and me. “You don’t even know each other. You”—he points at me—“have no right setting Lola up to be one of your goddamn conquests.”

  “It’s not like that,” I defend myself.

  “Bullshit! In the two years I’ve known you, all you’ve done was fuck women and fuck off. You think you could treat her any different? You don’t know the first damn thing of being good to a woman. You’re not capable of—”

  “I’m pregnant,” Lola announces, her fingers quivering in mine.

  I don’t know if she says it to halt her father’s mostly correct judgement of my character. Or to get it over with. Or to change the direction of the conversation. Whatever her reasons, Lola heaves out a sigh and sits up straight.

  The room is silent. The room is still. I barely breathe, my lungs having collapsed on themselves as I was forced to confront that all the shit Axel said is true. Maisy’s eyes are filled with sympathy. Axel’s face is drained of color.

  And then, he snaps.

  In one quick movement, he’s rounded the island. I throw my arm wide, angling my body, to protect Lola, a motion which infuriates him. He cocks back his arm and even though I know it’s coming right for me, I stand my ground and take it.

  I deserve this. He earned this. One punch.

  It connects with my jaw and my head snaps back, blood flying from the side of my mouth. I shuffle back a handful of steps but don’t go down. Axel advances, his eyes burning with fire, his sneer twisted in fury.

  “Daddy, stop!” Lola cries.

  “Axel, that’s enough,” Maisy warns.

  She steps to my side and holds out a hand.

  Axel freezes. His eyes narrow before clearing. He shakes his head, gesturing toward Maisy. “You’re on his side? Unbelievable. This punk knocked up my kid and—”

  “That’s enough,” Maisy repeats, quieter this time. The last time I saw Maisy Stratford truly upset is the morning I barreled into her at The Honeycomb and flipped a tray of fresh baked blueberry muffins on her dress. It was her first day of work and she just received shitty news and I made her bad day even worse.

  Now, she’s coming to my rescue.

  I never thought myself capable of real change. But maybe even hopeless sob stories like me can contain a plot twist.

  Axel vibrates with anger. He heaves out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair. His neck snaps to Lola. “Mom know?”

  She shakes her head, moving to the freezer and filling a bag with ice. “Not yet.”

  He snorts. Then nods. “Her life wasn’t an easy one.”

  “I know,” Lola says quietly, coming to my side and passing me the bag. She guides me to the barstool next to hers and I sit down. Maisy passes me a dishtowel to wrap around the bag. I hold it against the left side of my face feeling like a fucking chump.

  Watching Lola process Axel’s words, a confirmation of all her fears, hurts more than the throbbing in my face. The belief that I’m messing up her life is no longer an assumption. It’s a truth written on everyone’s expressions.

  “Fuck, Lola.” Axel shakes his head, disappointment etched into every line in his face. He looks older, tired. “How the hell did this happen?”

  “Dad, obviously, this wasn’t planned. I know you’re upset but this is where I’m at right now.” Lola glances at me. “River and I are going to figure this out.”

  Axel snorts. “Oh, nice. Okay. Right. Tell me how. How the fuck are you and River going to figure this out?” Sarcasm drips from every word. “How much do you even know about River? Other than his shitty reputation, which he worked really hard to earn, what does anyone know about River?”

  “Stop it,” Lola says, a note of steel in her tone. “I get that you’re upset. Blindsided. But River and I are having a baby and I need you, Dad. I need your support and your love. I need you.”

  Axel’s face crumples at her words, at the pleading tone underlining them.

  “Fuck,” he swears again. Then he walks around the island and pulls Lola into his arms, crushing her against his chest. One large paw holds her face, keeping her ear pressed against his heart.

  Lola cries quietly and I avert my gaze, feeling like scum of the fucking Earth for hurting this beautiful girl. For drawing her father’s wrath. For being a point of contention in their family.

  Maisy nudges my coffee cup closer, and I take a long swig of the brew, needing the jolt of caffeine.

  “You good?” Maisy asks.

  “Sure, Mais,” I reply.

  Axel holds Lola for a long moment. Then, he pulls out his cell phone and lays in on the kitchen island. “We better call Anna,” he says, mentioning Lola’s mom.

  Lola nods, wiping tears from her cheeks.

  I wrap a hand around my coffee cup and let the heat of it keep me in the room. Axel sets the phone to speaker. I hear Lola tell her mom the news. I listen to Anna cry in shock.

  I watch as Lola’s world falls apart, with both her parents bearing witness.

  My mind floats away. My emotions twist into a jumble so damn complicated, sorting them out is an impossibility. Instead, I push them down. I push everything down and away until I can convince myself it’s gone.

  Now, my job is to focus on this woman. On the baby. On salvaging something good from the wreckage I’ve caused.

  Now, I need to prove that I’m not the picture Axel painted of me. More than ever, I need to man up and be worthy.

  Rise to the occasion.

  Be more than a goddamn fuckup.

  Twenty-Five

 

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