Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
I spun around to face him, my eyes wide with shock. “What?” I demanded. “Why would you do that, Julian?” Had he lost his fucking mind? That was his dream!
He reached up and brushed some tears off my cheeks. “I did it when I realized I love you, Meg.” He sighed. “I can’t stand the thought of leaving you behind, and that’s basically what would happen every football season. I can’t leave you behind, baby.” He rubbed his thumb against the side of my stomach. “Especially now, baby girl.”
More tears spilled down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant,” I cried. Julian gave me a small smile. “I’m going to be a mom.” I sobbed, shaking my head so fast, I gave myself a headache. “I’m not ready to be a mom, Julian.”
He leaned forward and kissed me with so much love and tenderness that it tore at my heart. “I’m not ready to be a dad, either, baby, but we’ll figure this out together.” He kissed me again. “I love you.”
I gave him a watery smile. I still hadn’t returned the words, but Julian was patient with me. He wasn’t pressuring me, and I was so thankful for that.
“I’m going to let them know we’re ready for the doctor to come back in,” he told me, gently sliding off the bed so he wouldn’t jostle me and possibly upset my stomach again. “I know this is terrifying. I’m scared as fuck, too, babe. But no matter what, we’re in this together.”
I nodded. He kissed me once more before he got off the bed completely and walked to the door. I looked down at my belly, feeling so conflicted.
How was I meant to be a good mom when I didn’t have anyone to look up to? My own mother had practically abandoned me, pretending I didn’t exist, and then kicking me out as soon as she was legally able to.
How was I supposed to do this?
* * *
✶ ✶ ✶
* * *
I slowly opened my eyes as Julian took his seat next to me in class. I hadn’t felt good all day, and I felt like it was only a matter of time before I had to rush out of class to go get sick again. Julian leaned over and pressed his lips to mine in a slow, sensual kiss that made me forget about how sick I was feeling for a moment.
He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “How are you feeling?” he asked me, his voice soft and tender.
“Damn, bro, you hitting that?” a guy I vaguely remembered introducing himself as a sophomore at the beginning of the semester asked Julian. “When can I get my turn?” he asked, looking at me, making my blood run cold.
I gripped Julian’s hoodie as he moved to get out of his seat, his body vibrating with rage. He shrugged my hand off and got up, his tall, massive frame easily dwarfing the other guy’s. The boy swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better fucking listen closely,” Julian snarled. The guy swallowed thickly. He knew Julian wasn’t one to be fucked with. “Meghan is mine. My girlfriend. If you ever fucking come near her again, I’ll beat you until you’re spending the rest of your life in a fucking hospital eating through a goddamn tube.”
My heart thumped hard against my breastbone as I stared at Julian with wide eyes. The guy stepped back with his hands up in the air in a surrendering gesture. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I just saw the post on Twitter,” he defended.
“Now you know the post on Twitter is fucking fake,” Julian snapped at him. “And you better warn everyone, because I’ve had enough of this fucking shit.”
With that, Julian sat back down in his seat. I squeezed my eyes shut, a deep hatred for whoever had posted that picture of me on Twitter settling in my veins. Julian reached over and gently gripped my chin, turning my head to face him. “I’m going to get this taken care of,” he promised me, anger still seeping from his voice, but as always, his touch was gentle.
I sighed and shook my head. “Even if you get it taken down, Julian, it’ll still be there in everyone’s minds,” I told him quietly. My bottom lip trembled as tears welled in my eyes. “I hate that someone took that picture and used it against me,” I told him, my voice breaking. His eyes were pained as they stayed focused on me. “That wasn’t me just getting laid.”
Pain on my behalf flashed through his eyes. I both loved and hated that he felt everything for me so strongly. “I know, baby,” he said softly. “I hate that this shit got used against you, too. I promise you that I’ll find out who the fuck did this to you,” he swore.