Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Goal,” Cage yells, throwing his hands up in victory as the hockey players on TV are all hugs and backslaps. “That fucking Stanley Cup is ours again this year.”
I laugh and shake my head. Cage is from North Carolina and sort of psycho for his Carolina Cold Fury. He went to every game of the Stanley Cup finals last year where they won. I expect he’ll do the same this year if they make it past this round of the playoffs.
As for hockey, not my thing. Growing up in the Midwest, it was all about football. Cornhusker football to be exact. One of the things I miss most about my dad is watching college football on Saturday’s together. I expect if I head home with a baby that tradition will be in place once again, which is a good thing.
“Another beer, Bodie?” the bartender asks, and I nod.
“Me too,” Cage says before he picks up his pint glass and drains the rest. I’d gladly said yes when he invited me out for a late lunch and some beers while he watched the hockey game on TV. We’re at our favorite sports bar in Vegas, and we’re well known here.
The bartender snags our empties and discards them into a sink behind the bar. She grabs two more chilled glasses from a cooler and pours our drafts.
The hockey game cuts away to a commercial for a sports drink, and our fresh beers are slid in front of us. Just as I pick mine up to take a sip, Cage says, “So Hart’s pregnant, huh?”
My glass freezes halfway to my mouth for just a second before I regain my senses. I take a large mouthful and then set the pint glass on the counter, carefully calculating my response. Clearly her meltdown in the locker room has made the gossip rounds.
“Yeah,” I say, turning to look at him. “She was just having a rough day, I guess.”
“That’s wild,” Cage says thoughtfully. “Thinking about Hart being pregnant, that is. I can’t think of a woman who is less motherly than her.”
It shouldn’t bother me… those words.
But they do.
They bother me because he’s right. Rachel has made it clear she doesn’t want to be a mom at this point in her life. But he’s also wrong. She’s also wrong.
I can see the potential within her.
“I wonder if Kynan knocked her up,” he muses before taking a sip of his beer.
“Why would you say that?” I ask. It comes out a little too aggressively.
Cage turns his head to look me in the eye. “Oh, come on. They’ve got a past. Fuck buddies and all that.”
My abdomen contracts painfully, like I’d been kicked right in the gut. The news is jarring.
“They’re fuck buddies?” I ask, my throat dry. I’m not sure why it bothers me, because what she did in her past shouldn’t matter.
Not really.
I’ve watched her fuck random men at The Wicked Horse, and that’s never bothered me. Still doesn’t, as a matter of fact, because I know it was meaningless.
Just like the women I’ve fucked there were meaningless.
But Kynan?
That’s not meaningless. They’ve known each other a long fucking time. Since before The Jameson Group.
“How do you know they’re fuck buddies?” I ask, trying to appear casual about my inquiry.
Cage shrugs. “Well, it’s just rumor really. Some of the original members like Sal and Tank were talking about it in the locker room earlier today. Said they were an item back in the day.”
After Rachel had her public meltdown and then jetted out of there. It took no more than a few minutes before all the guys were gossiping like a bunch of clucking hens.
And what the fuck does “back in the day” even mean?
I pick up my beer and start chugging. I’d like Rachel to clear up those matters for me. Otherwise, I’ll drive myself batty wondering about it. Right now, she’s fucking me exclusively, but I need to know if she’s got feelings for Kynan. I respect the dude, and I respect Rachel. I don’t want to stand in the way of something.
I also don’t want to have these nasty-ass feelings I’ve got going on right now, which are ranging from jealousy to anger.
“It’s got to be Kynan, right?” Cage chatters on. I continue swallowing large mouthfuls of beer. “I mean… they’ve got a history, and Hart’s not the type to have unprotected sex. If it happened, it was planned is the way I’m thinking. Kynan’s got to be the dad for sure—”
“It’s mine,” I croak after swallowing the last of my beer, sucking air through my teeth. I slam my glass on the bar, and turn to lock my eyes to Cage’s.
His eyes go round, his mouth dropping wide open. “Yours?”
“Mine,” I say proprietarily, and I wonder if that’s for the baby, Rachel, or both. I wait for a flash of guilt to hit me that I’ve divulged our secret. Rachel most certainly didn’t want anyone to know she’s pregnant just yet. She didn’t want to be treated differently by the guys, but that cat is out of the bag thanks to her hormonal rant earlier today.