Page 173 of The Right Move

I’m dead on my feet, not sleeping a wink on the airplane as last night’s loss replayed in my mind on a constant loop. All I want to do is find Indy, pull her into my bed, and sleep the entire day away.

“Ind!” I call out, but she doesn’t answer. “Blue, I’m home. Where are you?”

I check my room and her old one, the shower, and the kitchen. She’s not home. Grabbing my phone to call her, I already have a text waiting.

Blue: I have something to tell you when I get home and I’ve been so excited to see you that I couldn’t sleep! Went to grab two coffees for us and one for Dave, just in case you’re home before I’m back!

With a smile on my face, I take a seat on the entryway bench and kick off my shoes. I’m far too fucking exhausted to stand while doing it, and I’m fairly certain I’ll be sitting my happy ass right here until my girl is home and can take me to bed.

Reaching down, I tuck my shoes under the bench, but while bent over, I’m stopped in my tracks when I find a white plastic stick with a blue cap wedged underneath one of the wooden legs. As if it were dropped there and forgotten about.

I keep my house tidy as fuck, and even Indy has gotten better about it, so something so obviously out of place is easy to spot.

As soon as my hand reaches it, I know what it is, and my erratic heartbeat has a feeling it knows what it says. All the confirmation is right there in front of me as I hold it in front of my face in utter disbelief.

This can’t be happening. How is this happening? I mean, I know how, but we’re always safe. Always cautious. She told me it would take a miracle for it to happen naturally. How the fuck did this happen? And why the fuck is this down here? To hide it from me?

Clearly, she wasn’t lying when she said she has something to tell me when she gets home because in my hands, I’m holding a pregnancy test that’s practically screaming the word positive with its bold letters.

Indy’s positive pregnancy test.

38

INDY

I nearly sprint through the front door with a tray of coffees in my hand because I haven’t seen Ryan in four days and I’m a needy bitch who wants his attention. Plus, I get to tell him that my parents booked a flight and are coming to visit soon. I can’t wait for them to formally meet face-to-face.

But I don’t have to make it far to find him sitting on the entryway bench, elbows to his knees and his head hanging low.

“Hi! I missed you!”

He draws his head back, but doesn’t look at me, instead focusing on the ceiling, those ocean eyes filled with too many emotions I can’t place.

“What’s wrong?” Setting the tray on the kitchen island, I stand between his legs and run my hand over his hair. “Are you upset about the game last night?”

He chuckles a humorless laugh but there’s no smile to accompany it. “No.”

“Okay,” I draw out. “What’s bothering you?”

He shakes his head, unable to find the words to speak.

Attempting to shift the tone of this conversation, I take a deep breath. “Well, I have something exciting to tell you!”

Hand reaching up between our bodies, he holds a small plastic stick out for me to see. “I already know.”

“What is that?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Is that a pregnancy test?”

“Clearly, Ind. How long have you known?”

Wait. What?

His eyes finally meet mine. It’s evident now that he's not angry about last night’s game. In fact, he’s not angry at all. He’s scared. As if every one of his insecurities is becoming a reality in this moment and I’m the face of them all.

I keep my tone soft. “There’s nothing to tell, Ryan.”

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