“You can’t do that,” Liam said. “Tara’s had too much to drink. You need to take care of her car, Charlie.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding slightly. “Okay.”
I got in the car and started it, my body still humming with arousal. I couldn’t think straight right now. Bennett had that effect on me.
When I pulled away from the curb, Liam and Bennett both waved. Bennett looked disappointed and Liam looked blissfully intoxicated.
I laughed loudly and ran a hand through my hair. This was crazy. How was I going to tell Liam his best friend had gotten me pregnant without knowing I was his sister? Not to mention, what was I going to do about Bennett? Despite all the reasons I knew it was a bad idea to get involved with him, one look at him turned my mind into a pile of mush.
It was time to put this situation down on paper.
Bennett
Liam was in a shit mood. He had the bunk across from mine on the bus we took to road games, and he’d been lying there swearing at his cell phone for almost an hour.
My mood wasn’t much better. My dick was in serious need of some love that didn’t come from my own hand. Kissing Charlotte had reminded me what I was missing.
It had been three and a half months since that night. I’d wanted more of her since the next day.
“Fucking stubborn woman,” Liam muttered at his phone.
I felt my own phone buzzing beside me in my tiny bunk, and I picked it up. I’d gotten a photo from Charlotte. She was standing sideways in her bathroom with her shirt pulled up, exposing her slightly rounded, clearly pregnant belly. Her wide, pretty smile made me smile too.
A text came in from her.
Charlotte: Thought you might like to see my bump.
Me: I love it. Can I show this to my parents?
Charlotte: Sure.
Me: I want you to meet them soon.
Charlotte: I’d like that.
I stared at her picture, tracing a finger over her belly. Just like when I’d heard the baby’s heartbeat, it hit me how real this was.
I wanted to be a good father to my kid, and being a good provider was part of that. How could I provide well with the shit money I made? I’d stopped at a place called The Baby Boutique when I saw the sign on the way home one day. And holy shit, had it opened my eyes. The cribs were almost a grand. Even diapers—which the kid would only piss or shit in—were expensive.
How would I help Charlotte pay for that stuff? My only hope was to focus hard on my game and hope to get called up. If I couldn’t, I didn’t see how I could keep playing hockey.
Charlotte would be doing many of the late nights with the baby alone while I was on the road. Who would take care of the baby while we were both working? And how much would that cost?
These were the questions that wore on me during road trips these days. I just stared at the gray ceiling of the bus from my bunk and weighed things.
My phone buzzed with another message from Charlotte.
Charlotte: Where are you going?
Me: Nashville. I’ll be back late tomorrow night.
I sent a second message right after.
Me: Do you worry about things?
Charlotte: Like what things?
Me: Money. And being a good parent in five months.