Page 55 of Strike Zone

“I care about what you think. What do you need right now?”

“Do you care?”

“Yes. How do you feel?”

“I’m angry. I’m really fucking angry. You didn’t tell me, and I’m so mad about it. I had real, genuine feelings for you, and you walked out. You left and didn’t look back. Then last night, you scared the shit out of me, and you’re having my baby. I’m a million different things right now, Diana, so I can’t think about what I need because I don’t fucking know. I’m mad at you. I can’t trust you. I’m in awe of you for growing a person. I’m happy, I’m confused, and I’m terrified. None of that helps you in any way, and it sure as shit doesn’t help me, so tell me… what do you need from me, Diana?” Overshare of the century, dickhead. At least one of us will still be getting a period while she’s pregnant—me.

“I’d like to get to know you, Linc. I’ve heard you’re a pretty awesome friend and a great guy to have around when the shit hits the fan. I think we can safely say the fan is on full blast, and a dump truck of manure was just unloaded directly in its path.”

“The miracle of life. I’ve never heard it put so… colorfully.” Taking a deep, steadying breath, I push my feelings aside and consider the life that’s growing inside her. He or she is why I offer my hand to Diana with no regard for my heart’s desire. “Hi, I’m Lincoln Nash. It’s nice to meet you, Diana. I think we’ll be great friends.”

She takes my proffered hand, sending an ache of longing through every nerve ending in my body. “Nice to meet you, Linc. I’m preggers,” she says with a playful smile.

“What can I say? He shoots, he scores.” Her smile lights up the room, and yet as I withdraw my hand, a darkness settles in the pit of my stomach. If agreeing to be nothing more than Diana’s friend is the price I have to pay to be a father, then I’ll do it because I won’t repeat the sins of my father, wherever the fuck he is.

Chapter Thirteen

DIANA

The scent of his cologne invades my senses as he helps me back to bed. I’ve been so weak since getting back from the Hamptons, and now that Linc knows I’m pregnant, he’s not taking no for an answer when it comes to sticking around. He wasn’t joking around when he agreed to us being in this together and doing it as friends. I don’t understand why he wants to be here with me right now, and I hate to admit that I’m scared to let him. He’s hurt that I kept this from him for so long and pushed him away.

Now, I can’t tell him how I felt that night before I collapsed and how his lips set every fiber of my being on fire. Because now, if I say I want that chance with him—the one he offered me months ago—he won’t know if my reasons are genuine. Where does that leave us?

We can be friends who have a kid together.

Those words spoken from his lips were a balm to my fractured soul and a strike straight through my heart. One I wasn’t prepared for.

“Oh God, I think I’m going to be sick again. I need to get to the bathroom.” Linc rests his hand on my stomach with such tenderness before reaching over the bed and grabbing a trashcan.

“I’m prepared. You don’t need to go anywhere. You can blow chunks in this, and I’ll get rid of it.”

“You don’t need to be here. If my sparkling personality hasn’t put you off already, then watching me vomit definitely will.”

“Are you kidding? At least you have a good reason. Most of the women I’ve seen puke have been drunk as skunks and thought nothing of trying to kiss me after losing their dinner in the bushes.”

“Gross.” I can’t hold it in any longer. “Don’t look.” My entire body retches as I lose the contents of my stomach.

Instead of doing as I ask, he gently sweeps my hair out of my face and slowly rubs circles on my back. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Besides, you forget I’ve seen you hug the toilet before. A trashcan isn’t so bad.”

“If this is what pregnancy is going to be like the entire time, this kid is going to be an only child.”

“Didn’t you know that the dewy glow everyone talks about is from morning sickness? Or in your case, the worst case of sickness in the history of pregnancy, in the chronicles of humankind.”

“That’s so nasty.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I can smell it. I’m a sympathetic vomiter. You have no idea how hard I’m fighting back my gag reflex right now.”

My chuckle reverberates in the metal trashcan. “Don’t make me laugh while I’m puking, I’ll end up peppering you with chunks.”

“Are you going to go all soft on me now that you’re knocked up?”

“Fuck, no. How terrifying would that be?”

“True that. The only thing scarier than you hating me, would be you liking me. Christ, could you imagine if you actually enjoyed spending time with me?”

“God, no. Two assholes being assholes together.”

He tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my flushed cheek. “There’s the girl I know and love. It took you a few hours to call me an asshole today. I was getting worried. For a second there, I thought you appreciated me for my personality rather than just man candy.”