There's a crowd hanging out front, so Stephanie continues to walk through the parking lot, stopping near a small silver economy car. She leans back against the hood, crosses her arms protectively over her chest, and says, "I've been trying to reach you for two days. I've left messages through the Cold Fury office for you to contact me."
I shake my head at her. "I didn't get your messages and I probably would never have, as they don't pass that stuff along. There are too many nutty fans that try to reach us that way. You would've only been able to get to me through my agent."
She nods in understanding, her voice crisp and efficient. "I knew that the team hung out here after victories. I took a chance that you might be here tonight."
I notice she's wearing a Cold Fury jersey. It's small and fits her snugly, and she paired it with blue jeans and black high heel boots. She looks fucking amazing, but I really can't even appreciate it right now.
"I'm pregnant," she says in a voice so low I almost don't hear it.
But I do. I was waiting for it. There can be no other reason why she was here.
It's been exactly four weeks since the night we were together, and I have to be honest, I didn't worry about whether or not she could be pregnant. I simply chose to ignore that possibility and instead focused my memories of our night together on the incredible orgasms we had. Besides, she took the morning-after pill, didn't she?
"I thought you were going to go to the doctor--" I start to ask her.
She holds a hand up. "I did. The very next morning and got the prescription. But it's not a hundred percent effective."
Just fucking great. I mean...I knew it wasn't 100 percent effective, but I refused to think that small percent ineffectiveness rate would bite me in the ass.
"When did you find out?" I ask as I jam my hands down into the pockets of my jeans.
She drops her arms away from her chest and mimics my action. "I didn't get my period. So I took a home pregnancy test four days ago, which was the earliest a pregnancy would've registered. I was able to get to my doctor day before yesterday for a blood test and he confirmed it."
Oh my God. This is fucking real.
My entire sense of well-being and self-preservation rebels against the idea that I could potentially be a father in the very near future. I have an overwhelming need to fight against this. I try to make my tone as neutral as possible, but it still comes out defensively when I ask, "And you're sure it's mine?"
Stephanie glares at me. "I'm sure."
But I can't let it go. Maybe she hasn't considered all the possibilities. "Maybe there was someone else you had been with in the week or two prior to me?"
This seemed reasonable to me, since Stephanie is a sexual woman with low inhibitions and no problems with one-night stands.
Stephanie's hands come out of her pockets and she pushes up off her car. "I'm absolutely sure. I haven't been with anyone before you in a while."
I don't know this woman well enough to know whether that's true. I've also been subjected to a nasty relationship with a woman who was after nothing but my money, so I'm not going to lie and say that's not crossing my mind as well. I'm still in self-protect mode when I say, "Then you won't mind if we get a paternity test?"
The anger drains out of her face and she gives a resigned sigh. "That's fine. I'll find out from my doctor how we can do that."
Stephanie turns away for me and opens her car door. I watch silently as she leans in and rummages through what appears to be her purse. She takes out a small spiral pad of paper, opens it, and scribbles something.
She then tears it off and pulls her body out of the car, holding her arm out to me. "Here's my phone number. If you want to know anything about the pregnancy, give me a call. My email is on there as well. My first appointment with the obstetrician isn't until next month, so I won't have any information about how we test paternity until then. Get up with me and I'll let you know what I find out."
I take the paper reluctantly, which now puts the burden on me as to whether or not I acknowledge this new twist in my life.
"Yeah, okay," I say lamely.
Stephanie nods curtly and gets into her car. I step to the side when she starts the engine and I watch as she pulls away, wondering how in the hell my life just got so damned complicated.
"Fuck," I bark out to no one but myself when she's out of sight. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and stick her contact information inside. I walk back into Hoolihan's, push my way through the crowd, and find Max.
Grabbing his arm just above the elbow, I lean in and mutter, "I need to talk to you in private."
Because I know from very recent experience that the most private place around is the parking lot, I lead Max out to the area where Stephanie was just parked.
When I turn around, Max's face is filled with worry. We've always been close, even though we're two years apart. He knows that I wear my heart on my sleeve so he's astute enough to know I'm upset. Hell, he can probably tell by my body language that I'm in deep shit.
This is confirmed when he asks in a slightly panicked voice, "What's wrong?"
I tilt my head and scratch the back of my head for a moment, knowing that there's no great way to lay this out. So I just do it as simply as possible. "You know that woman I was with the night of that charity gala at the natural sciences museum?"
Max nods. "Yeah."
"Well," I drawl, hesitate for a brief moment, then plunge straight ahead. "She's...um...pregnant."
"Whoa," Max murmurs softly. "How did that happen?"
"Let's just say the rubber couldn't hold up to the type of sex we had," I say sheepishly. "It fucking ripped down the side. She said she took the morning-after pill but it apparently didn't do its job."
"What are you going to do?" Max asks hesitantly.
This is what I love about my brother. He's not the type who's going to jump right into giving me unsolicited advice. Don't get me wrong, I'll get advice from him, but he wants to know where my head is so he can tailor it accordingly.
I shrug. "Not going to do anything until I find out if it's mine."
"Do you have any reason to doubt that it is?"
"Nothing other than the fact that she was as much into a one-night stand as I was. I figure maybe she was with someone else who could have gotten her pregnant."
"And yet she came directly to you about this," Max points out.
Yeah, I already considered that, and it didn't bode well for me.
I don't bother answering Max because that would validate what my gut instinct is telling me.
That I'm the father.
And I am scared fucking shiftless. Absolutely terrified.
I know I sound like a complete pussy when I tell my brother the truth. "I'm not ready for this. I'm fucking twenty-seven years old and nowhere near ready for this."
Max steps clos
er to me and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze and stares me right in the eye. "I know you have to be scared right now, and I know you think you're not ready for this. But baby brother, we can get you ready for this. You'll have me and Jules nearby, and you know there's no doubt that Mom and Dad will be there for you, as well as Malik and Simone."
Of course I know that. My family is the fucking bomb. While I'm closest to Max because of our connection to hockey, I'm still very close to my other brother and sister and my parents.
"How did she leave it with you?" Max asks.
"I asked for a paternity test," I tell him. "I don't think that made her happy, but you know after that shit I went through with Tiffany I can't help but be cautious."
Max nods. He is well aware of the one time I took a stab at a relationship and found out that I'd latched myself to a whole lot of crazy. After just a few weeks of exclusive dating, Tiffany was trying to get me to pick out engagement rings. That freaked me the fuck out and I called it quits. She continued to stalk me for several weeks until I had to threaten to go to the police to get her to leave me alone. I'm not stupid enough to think all women are like this, but I am smart enough to know that this is a possibility.
"What does your gut tell you?" Max asks me cautiously.
With a sigh of pure resignation I tell him, "I think it's mine. Stephanie doesn't come across as crazy, and if she thinks I'm the father, I probably am."
Max takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Okay, this is my advice. I think you need to accept that this is probably a done deal. You need to decide what type of role you want."
"Role?"
"Do you want to be actively involved in the kid's life or do you just want to pay child support?"
The look I give Max says I think he's a dumbass. "Seriously, dude? Do you even know me at all?"
Max laughs. "You'll be involved. I know that, but I just wanted to point out...you've got options."
"Moving on," I say dryly. Because if I have a child, even though I'm not ready for it, I'm totally going to be involved. That's serious shit and I wouldn't ever fuck around with that. My parents definitely taught me better.