Taking Possession: A Secret Baby Romance (Bad Ballers Book 4) Page 8

  I didn’t even know what question to ask, but I didn’t need to. Becca continued, unprompted.

  “She claims she isn’t, but I’ve got great intuition about these things. I think she’s pregnant.”

  The food I’d just swallowed threatened to come back up. “What?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice.

  “We went out for French food, and she didn’t drink or touch the seafood. And Annie loves nothing more than a buttery scallop and a glass of Pinot. She must be pregnant.”

  “Maybe she just wasn’t in the mood for seafood.”

  “Nope,” said Becca. “I’ve bet myself a new Birkin that I’m going to be an aunt in less than nine months.”

  No. There was no way. No way Annie was pregnant.

  But you didn’t use a condom.

  But she was on the pill!

  The pill is not infallible. Did you ever see her take it?

  “Whoa, your face just went scary. Are you okay?”

  Becca peered at me, concerned, and I forced my shoulders to relax and forced my jaw muscles to unclench. “Yeah, sorry – I’m just, not really over this,” I waved my hand between us. That was the truth at least. “Hearing that your sister might be pregnant just reminds me that we aren’t ever going to be.”

  Becca pressed her lips together in disapproval of the topic.

  “Not guilt tripping you,” I said. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “No,” said Becca. “It doesn’t.”

  I had a dozen more questions to ask about Annie, but I knew I couldn’t. Becca might be wrong. There was no reason to suspect Annie was pregnant. There was no reason to suspect it was mine. For all I knew, Annie and that Pete character had been sleeping together and the baby was his.

  That thought made me sick to my stomach.

  19

  Anne

  I didn’t think it was possible to be more tired.

  I smiled and waved as the last parent exited my classroom. At this point in the evening, that smile was forced. There were only so many times you could be subtly insulted within the space of a few hours. Parent/Teacher conferences were the worst. I had yet to get through one without some parent trying to argue a grade with me.

  “Ms. Brown?”said someone, angrily.

  I looked up, startled, and was relieved to see Abe standing in my doorway, doing his best stern father impression.

  “Mr. Kraus,” I intoned in my best reprimanding mother voice. Abe’s eyes lifted heavenward, his lips twitching with amusement.

  “Did you not get my SOS text?” he asked as he slid into my room and closed the door behind him.

  “No,” I said, shortly. I’d dropped my phone into the Potomac during practice – a terrible start to an epically horrible day. “My phone is swimming with the fishes.”

  “Another one bites the dust,” said Abe. “That’s phone number three?”

  “No. It’s only the second one.”

  “My mistake. Well, anyway, my brother is staying in my place, and if I have to spend one more night with him, I’m going to commit homicide. So, I’m sleeping on your couch tonight.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. I could use the company. I hadn’t yet told anyone about my pregnancy, and I’d just passed the two-month mark. The whole thing was terrifying. I’d spent at least two weeks desperately trying to figure out what I was going to do. Though I’d been upset at first, I wanted the baby. Badly. But the practical implications of being a single mother were staggering. Supporting a child on a teaching salary was going to be difficult. And what would I do when people asked who the father was?

  I was desperate for someone to talk to. Why not finish a horrible day with a difficult conversation? Abe would come back to my place, and I would rip the duct tape off the wound that was my life.

  Abe and I walked home together, comparing notes about parent/teacher conferences. Abe’s had actually sounded a bit worse than mine, and we both agreed that Isla Sheering’s parents were the absolute worst humans we’d ever encountered.

  “Did one of your neighbors get locked out?” asked Abe as we neared my building. A dark figure was moving back and forth on the deck, shadowed by the porch lights. I didn’t need to see his face to know who it was. I knew that prowl anywhere. I’d watched enough close football games to recognize an anxious, pacing Dash Barnes.

  “Shit,” I said. “Shit. Shit.” I stopped walking and slid into the shadows of a nearby store.

  “What?” asked Abe, following me.

  “That’s Dash.”

  “As in Dash Barnes?” asked Abe, his black brows raising in disbelief. He took another look down the street. “What is he doing at your place? Were you expecting him?”

  I shook my head.

  Abe stared at me a moment and shook his in response. “What is it you’re not telling me, Annabelle Lee?”

  I covered my hands with my face. “That I’m pregnant with Dash’s baby, and he doesn’t know it,” I said.

  Silence.

  “That’s a joke, right?” Abe’s voice was deadpan.

  I shook my head and felt Abe’s hand pry mine from my face. His aqua eyes stared into mine. “Annie, are you serious?”

  “Yes. I’m serious.”

  Abe stared me down a moment and then looked up toward the night sky, as if asking God for divine inspiration on how to deal with me. “Okay,” he said, after a moment. “Do you think Dash knows?”

  “I don’t know what he knows or doesn’t know, but he’s right there,” I said, slightly hysterical. I was close to crying. What if he was at my doorstep because he’d finally figured out what he wanted from me? Had he been thinking about what I’d said at all? I hadn’t heard from him, not for a month.

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  “I have no idea. I have no idea. I can’t do this…”

  Abe looked at me seriously. “Do you want to go back to my place?”

  And leave Dash pacing on my front stoop? How long had he been there? God, he must have texted me. He must be furious that I hadn’t responded. Why was he here?

  “No,” I said, after a moment. “But will you walk up with me?”

  “Of course,” said Abe, and he waited for me to gather myself and stroll out into the street.

  Dash spotted us when we were just a few houses away, and he stopped pacing, his eyes landing on Abe with an intensity that wasn’t at all friendly. If he’d been jealous of Pete, he was bound to be jealous of Abe, who was much better looking.

  “What the hell, Annie?” Dash’s voice split the air, and I felt Abe start next to me. “Why don’t you ever answer your goddamn phone?”

  I took a deep breath, his anger fueling mine. It was easier to deal with Dash when I was angry. “I dropped my phone in the river this morning,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

  I could see Dash trying to calm himself. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. He was still sporting that beard he’d been wearing when I’d seen him in Boston.

  Beside me, I could feel Abe taking Dash’s measure.

  “I need to talk to you,” said Dash, after a minute. “Alone.”

  “I’m not so sure I’m comfortable leaving Anne with you,” said Abe. “You’re a big boy, you seem agitated, and I don’t know you.”

  Dash fixed Abe with his most intimidating stare, and I saw Abe’s shoulders stiffen in resolve. “I don’t know you either,” said Dash, his voice low and dangerous.

  “This is Abe,” I said. “Abe, this is Dash, my sister’s ex-husband.”

  I watched as Dash recognized Abe’s name from the some of stories I’d told him over the years. His shoulders relaxed marginally. Abe’s didn’t.

  “Sorry,” said Dash after a moment. “I’ve been trying to reach Annie for the last six hours.”

  I shrugged, helplessly. I hadn’t known.

  “Do you want me to stay?” asked Abe, turning to me but raising his voice so that Dash could hear.

  “
To keep me from doing anything stupid?” I said under my breath. Abe didn’t smile. Instead, he handed me his phone. “I’m going straight home. I’ll use my brother’s phone. His number is programmed into mine. If you need me, you call me, okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Dash isn’t dangerous.”

  “Just because he’s not dangerous doesn’t mean you’ll be fine. Call my brother when you need me, okay?”

  “Okay.” Abe glanced back at Dash once more. Based on Dash’s surprised expression, I knew Abe must have delivered some kind of silent warning. Turning, Abe strolled off down the street.

  Dash and I stood staring at each other for a moment. “So? Can we talk?” Dash snapped. Now that Abe was gone, he was back to sounding impatient.

  “I don’t know, can you calm down?” I snapped back. “Because I’m not so sure I want to be alone in a room with you right now.”

  Dash gripped the deck’s iron railing. “I’m calm,” he said.

  Sure he was. But curiosity got the better of me. I tugged my keys out of my purse, and we headed upstairs.

  This isn’t about the baby. I told myself. How would he know about that? You haven’t told anyone. This is about Boston, about you asking him ‘what he wants.’ But why was he so angry?

  In my apartment, Dash moved ahead of me, striding from the living room to the kitchen. “Goddamn it,” he said after a moment. “How do you live in a place this tiny?”

  I blinked. “DC is expensive,” I said. “Are you telling me you came here to talk about my apartment?”

  “I talked to your sister.”

  My heart sank. “You told Becca about us?” My voice came out hoarse.

  Dash looked incredulous. “Of course not!”

  Oh, thank god. I sank into one of my kitchen chairs. And then stared at him. So then, what was this about?

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Fuck. “Did Becca tell you that?”

  “She said you denied it.”

  “I did deny it.”

  “So she’s mistaken?” It was clear he didn’t believe that she was mistaken.

  Shit. What was I supposed to do? Did I lie to him? Could I tell him the truth?

  I knew that, more than anything, Dash wanted a family. And it was because of that want that I hadn’t yet told him about the pregnancy. I’d thought it through, and there were several truths that I couldn’t escape:

  1) I still loved Dash.

  2) I wanted a family, too – and I was almost thirty! This might be my only chance to have one.

  3) This would ruin my relationship with my sister, with my mother, maybe even with my father. This would impact my status as a teacher. It would be in all the tabloids.

  4) Dash would feel responsible and would try to have a relationship with me. It wouldn’t be because he loved me or because he thought we might work. It would be because he felt responsible.

  “Shit.”

  My silence, apparently, had spoken for me. I stared up at Dash as he processed what I wasn’t saying. “And it’s mine.”

  “I never slept with Pete,” I said.

  It was Dash’s turn to sit down. The starch seemed to leave his body entirely, and he all but fell onto the arm of my couch.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded after a moment. “Where you even going to tell me?” Anger turned the question into an accusation.

  I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I wasn’t going to.”

  “Annie, why the hell…”

  “Because what are we going to do, Dash!?” I said, my voice rising. “Raise it together? Tell the entire world that you got your ex-wife’s sister pregnant the week your divorce went through?” It was my turn to start pacing.

  “That’s not a reason not to tell me!” said Dash. “Goddamn it, Annie, to hear it from your sister!”

  “I didn’t tell her. She guessed!”

  “Are you keeping it?” Dash continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “And what if you’re not keeping it!? Would you have aborted my child without saying a thing to me?”

  I whirled on him, anger turning my hands into fists. “How the fuck are you managing to make this all about you!?” I asked, furious. “Jesus Christ, Dash, you must be the most egotistical person I know! I’m the one who’s having my sister’s ex-husband’s baby. And, oh yeah, the father of my love-child just happens to be the most famous quarterback in all of football! The media’s going to have a field day! My students will know... my whole life is about to change, and all you can do is think about yourself!?”

  My last few words were shouted so loud that they seemed to vibrate against the narrow walls of my living room. Anger, fear, and a whole host of nameless emotions were riding me. I stood up and slammed the kitchen chair with my foot, sending it crashing into the door.

  20

  Dash

  As the chair hit the door, both of us froze. Annie’s eyes were wild. Her hands were fists at her side, and she seemed to be having an internal battle. She was staring at the floor and breathing hard.

  I tried to focus on her words. I tried to calm down, myself. Angry Annie was turning me on something fierce, and the absolute worst thing I could do right was act on it. So I sat there, trying to focus my mind on something innocuous.

  It was hard to calm down. Upon leaving my lunch with Becca, I must have called Annie twelve times and left half a dozen messages. Then I’d booked a flight. I’d called her again and again, and with each call, I’d gotten more and more angry. I was sure she’d been avoiding me.

  It was hard to calm down now, but I tried to be rational. I tried to think about how she must be feeling… but it was hard.

  Minutes of silence dragged on between us. At one point, Annie walked over, righted the chair, and sat in it, facing me. But she stared at the floor. I wanted to haul her into my arms, shake her, and kiss her until she came to her senses. Of course she wasn’t getting rid of the baby. Of course she was going to have it, and we’d raise it together.

  The knowledge swept over me suddenly. Of course we’d raise it together. More than anything, I wanted a family. And now, here was Annie, pregnant with my child. I was closer to that dream than I’d ever been while married to Becca.

  I took a deep breath. “Can I suggest something?” I said.

  Annie looked up. She didn’t look angry; she didn’t look sad; she just looked tired. “Go ahead,” she said.

  “I think we should try to make this work.”

  “Make this work?” she parroted, her voice sounding dead.

  “This,” I said, gesturing between us. “You. Me. A child.”

  Annie stared at me a moment. I couldn’t read her expression. When she finally spoke, her words came out slowly: “Are you insane?”

  Anger flared at the accusation. “No,” I said flatly.

  “You must be,” said Annie. “Because having a family together is crazy. For one thing, you don’t love me. And I’m not going to let an unplanned pregnancy lock me into a relationship with a guy who doesn’t love me. Being with you would alienate me from my family, not to mention cause my face to turn up on every single gossip mag published in the US.”

  “You’re concerned about what the public is going to think of you!?” Was she kidding?

  “Do you think it’s easy being Becca Barnes’ older sister? Living on a teacher’s salary while my sister makes millions, jet-sets, dates actors, and marries football stars? My self-confidence is almost entirely bravado! There’s a reason the world doesn’t know that Becca and I are related! I don’t let them know it!”

  “We’re getting away from the point,” I said. I was not about to give Annie the pity party she so clearly wanted.

  “I’m not,” said Annie, shaking her head. “The point is that this is my life. You’ll go on with your life and your career. Mine will be over. We do this,” she waved her hand between us in an irritating imitation of me, “and my family doesn’t speak to me. Reporters will stalk my school until my school decides I’m a distract
ion. Plus, there’s the whole issue of your feelings toward me. You don’t even know if you like me, let alone want to spend the rest of your life with me!”

  I snorted. “I like you plenty,” I said. She was making more out of this than there was. Yes, Becca might be mad, but she’d get over it. Yes, the media would be all over her, but it would last all of a few months and then everyone would forget. But she was being irrational.

  “Plenty,” said Annie, blinking. “Well, that’s a relief.” I’d never heard Annie so sarcastic before.

  “What, pray-tell, was your plan going to be?” I asked, sitting back and crossing my arms.

  Annie stopped and stared at me for a moment before she shook her head. “I’m not going to get rid of it,” she said.

  An instantaneous and enormous wave of relief crashed over me. I felt myself slump in my chair.

  “But I’m not going to let anyone know it’s yours. I’m not saying you can’t have a relationship with it…” she said quickly. “We can work something out. You can be the baby’s uncle. Or a family friend or something…”

  She was still talking, but I had stopped hearing. My blood pressure rose with all the ferocity of a volcano. I felt my face go hot and my blood start screaming through my body, carrying with it a vicious and uncontrollable anger.

  I stood and, without thinking, let fly my fist. It went sailing through her drywall, plaster cracking at the impact and falling to the floor.

  Annie stopped talking. I stared at where my hand disappeared into the wall, the pain registering a bare moment later. I slid my hand out and flexed it, slowly. My knuckles were red. There was a small cut on my middle finger.

  “I think you need to leave.” Annie’s voice was quiet but firm. I didn’t turn to look at her. I left.

  21

  Anne

  I stared at the hole in the wall for over an hour. I guess I hadn’t known how close to the surface his anger was. I still didn’t quite understand the reaction. But I couldn’t think about it too hard, either.