“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to call.” Her voice went thick as if she was...holding back tears? “Funny story. Remember when the condom broke? Well, apparently the pill isn’t one hundred percent foolproof because, surprise, I’m pregnant.”
He waited for the words to rearrange themselves into an order that made sense. They stayed stubbornly in place. “What?”
“Pregnant. With your kid.” She cleared her throat. “I, ah, I wasn’t going to keep it, but I chickened out at the last second, and it turns out I want this baby. I’m sorry. I swear to God I didn’t know this would happen, and I don’t expect anything from you. It’s not your problem—it’s mine. I just... I thought you should know.”
A baby.
His baby.
With Becka.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus. She thought he would wash his hands of this. Aaron had questions—a whole hell of a lot of questions—but he didn’t honestly believe that Becka had tricked him into getting her pregnant. She sounded upset and scared, and the fact she’d let that slip through what he surmised were impressive shields meant she was exponentially more freaked out. How long have you been sitting on this knowledge, scared and alone?
He wasn’t about to let her shoulder it by herself. That child was half his, and if she was keeping it, he would be in the baby’s life. End of story.
That decided, he opened his eyes, plan in place. “Where are you?”
“What? I’m at home.”
“Text me the address.”
She hesitated, and he could almost see her arguing with herself about having him in her house. Well, too fucking bad. Whether she liked it or not, Aaron was in her life, and he wasn’t going anywhere. They had a future in common, one way or another. Finally, Becka sighed. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up and stared at his phone.
His life had just taken a hard right turn. He had no fucking idea how he was going to keep it from going off the rails entirely. One step at a time. Talk to Becka in person. Be calm. Reassure her. Get her to see things your way.
Shouldn’t be too difficult. Right?
* * *
Becka nearly paced a hole in her floor waiting for Aaron to show up. She should have realized he was going to demand to see her face-to-face when she called, but part of her had honestly thought he’d be relieved not to be asked to do anything. Isn’t that what most guys wanted in a shitty situation like this? To be absolved of all responsibility so they could go on with their lives unscathed while the woman was left to clean up the mess they’d created together?
You were projecting and you damn well know it. She caught herself wringing her hands and cursed. “I can do better than this. It’s just a baby.”
A baby she hadn’t signed up for.
She touched her stomach gingerly. There were none of the symptoms movies had told her to expect—aside from being extra exhausted all the time—but her doctor had confirmed there was, in fact, a baby growing inside her. A freaking baby.
She didn’t know how to be a mom. Lucy was the nurturer. The planner. The one who took care of everyone around her and was universally loved as a result. Becka had too much of their mother in her. She was too selfish, too bitchy, just too much across the board. Up until she made the call to keep the baby, she’d been sure she didn’t want kids at all—better to let the sins of the past lie and not tempt fate. Lucy always told her there was no reason to think they’d end up like their parents, but Becka didn’t believe her any more now than she had as a kid.
The buzzer sounded, and she jumped half out of her skin. “Shit.” Aaron was here. There was no time to think of a new, better plan. There was nothing left to do but buzz him up.
Thirty seconds later, she opened the door and froze. How had she forgotten how magnetic he was? His broad shoulders took up the space of her narrow door frame, and he wore a suit that probably cost as much as a couple months of her rent. Becka belatedly realized she was blocking the entrance and stepped back, letting him into her apartment.
He looked around, and she could almost see the thoughts rolling through his head. Shabby place. Secondhand furniture. A hole in the drywall from where she’d accidentally kicked it in when she fell out of a headstand a year ago. It was clean, but she was barely there long enough to sleep between teaching classes at Allie’s gym, Transcend, and her second job as a personal trainer at an upscale facility downtown. She’d never seen a reason to spiff up the place when that money could be spent in better places.
Now, she kind of wished she’d told Aaron to meet her somewhere else so he wouldn’t have seen this.
He turned as she shut the door and gave her an equally thorough examination. His gaze landed on her flat stomach and then rose to her face. “You’re not facing this alone.”
It was tempting to throw herself at his feet and beg him to hold her until this whole thing went away. Fear ate at the edges of her mind, and there was no easy answer to combat it. Hell, there were no answers at all.
But Becka had spent all her adult life fighting to stand on her own. She wasn’t about to compromise that now for a man who was essentially a stranger. She lifted her chin. “Easy for you to say. I’m the one incubating the kid, and I’m going to be the one solely responsible for its needs.”
“In this...apartment.” The way he said the last word translated to hovel.
She glared. “There’s nothing wrong with my apartment.”
“You have a hole in your wall.” He stalked around her kitchen. “Water damage on the floor.” The living room. “The rugs are worn down to nothing.” Aaron almost sounded like he was talking to himself instead of her. “If you don’t have money to repair this place, you sure as fuck don’t have money to give our baby everything he or she needs.”
She wanted to tell him she didn’t need him at all, that she’d find a way, but the hard reality was that Aaron had money and Becka didn’t. She made a comfortable living for herself, but she didn’t need much to get by in the grand scheme of things.
A baby changed that.
She turned away and wrapped her arms around herself. You can compromise. Try it—just this once. “I’m willing to negotiate some kind of...child support or something. If that’s something you’re comfortable with.” She wasn’t comfortable with it, but she’d suck up her pride and get over herself if it meant he could help her meet the baby’s needs.
“No.”
Becka turned back to find Aaron shaking his head and doing another circuit around her apartment. “What?”
“I said, no.” He poked the threadbare pillow on the couch. “You can’t live like this while you’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be living like this right now.”
“Excuse me?” Anger flared through her, and she welcomed it with open arms. Easier to be angry than to be scared, easier to fight than to admit she was
