Page 175 of Perfect Pitch

“Thanks, pal.” I shove her in the arm.

She wraps hers around me. My head crashes to her shoulders. “What about your protection?”

“Charlie knows.” That’s when I admit, “He’s also Mitch’s uncle. I need to ask him to tell Mitch to stop calling me.”

Her gasp is sharp. “He’s been calling?”

“Incessantly. And all I want to do is f-f-forget.” With that, I burst into tears.

“Shh. Shh, I got you, Austyn.” Fallon rocks me from side to side.

“I don’t want him to find out, Fal. Swear to me.”

“I won’t say a word. You know that. The bastard doesn’t deserve to know,” she spits out.

Wearily, I wonder if my mother had similar thoughts when my father didn’t return to her. I shove upright. “You know I have to.”

“I know. I have a question though.” Fallon’s hand smooths over my hair.

I nod. “Ask away.”

“Are all you Kensington women so damn fertile?” she grouses.

I choke on my tears. “Must be.”

I turn and slide down so my back is pressed against the bed, head in her lap. “Just think, my child will be Beckett Miller’s grandchild.”

“One, holy shit. Two, your mother is a lucky bitch.”

I sock Fallon in the arm, a tiny hitch of my lips causing the corner to lift as Fallon waxes poetic—again—about my father.

“Must you get so violent? I’m not the best student, but perving on your dad is something I excel at.”

Wrong thing to say. It reminds me of Mitch saying I was nothing but an assignment to him. I burst into tears recalling what Mitch said to me weeks ago. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Fallon growls. “You fell in love with a douchebag. Someone you’re better off not having in your life.”

“Well, this solves one mystery.”

“What’s that?”

“Why my mother never trusted another man after my father. It hurts too damn much.” I lift my head from her shoulder and meet her sympathetic eyes.

* * *

“What’s it like on the road?” Fallon asks.

We’re curled up in her tiny living room drinking decaffeinated chai with steamed milk from wine glasses. “Listen, just because you’re knocked up doesn’t mean we can’t get our non-alcoholic drink on in style. Besides, consider this a cup of love from me to you.”

That, too, made me cry. Fallon rolled her eyes and I burst into laughter. “God save me from pregnant women and hormones.”

I take a sip from my glass of love and answer. “Riddled with glitz and glamour. Party every night.”

“Uh-huh. Try selling it to someone who hasn’t known you as long as I have.” She curls a leg beneath her as she faces me.

“God, you’re such a bitch. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. Now, spill the tea—but not literally because I want my deposit back. Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

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