Page 110 of The Goal

“Oh my God. You aresucha guy.”

“Am I?” Smirking, I drift my hand down my abs and then cup my junk over my jeans. “Do you want to inspect the goods to make sure?”

“Did you ask me here to pack or to fuck?”

“Both?”

She waves a hand around the room. “There’s no bed.”

“Who needs a bed?”

“My poor fat pregnant body does,” Sabrina answers with a self-deprecating smile.

“How about this?” I counter. “Let’s pack as fast as we can, and then I’ll follow you back to Boston and we can fuck up a storm on your big comfy bed.”

She stands up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my lips. “Deal.”

SABRINA

I wasnervous about spending time with Tucker’s friends, but really I had nothing to worry about, because they’re pretty awesome. Hannah and Grace are so easy to talk to. Garrett and Logan are hysterical, and a lot more laidback than I expected. I mean, they’re drop-dead gorgeous hockey players. Shouldn’t they all be super conceited like—

“We need to talk.”

Likethisguy.

I stiffen when Dean Di Laurentis appears in the doorway. Tucker just went outside to say goodbye to Fitzy, leaving me to empty out the last dresser drawer on my own, but I stop what I’m doing when Dean enters and closes the door behind him.

The mere sight of him irritates me. It’s not fair that someone so jerky is so ridiculously attractive. Objectively, Dean is probably the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen outside of a movie screen. He’s got blond hair, chiseled male-model features, a spectacular body. And he’s charming as hell—that’s how he got me into bed in the first place. Well, that and the three daiquiris I drank. I might have even seen him again, if I hadn’t learned that he was sleeping with our TA in exchange for good grades.

“We do, huh?” I drawl. “And what do we need to talk about, Richie?”

He flinches, as he always does when I use the mocking nickname. I dubbed him Richie Rich after I discovered that he uses his money and looks to get ahead.

“You know exactly what we need to talk about.”

I frown. “If you meanthis—” I gesture to my stomach, “—then there’s nothing to discuss. My baby and I are none of your business.”

“Tucker’s my business,” he says coolly, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. “I mean, damn, Sabrina, I always knew you were an ambitious bitch, but I didn’t think you were a selfish one.”

Anger climbs up my throat. “Wow. Beau always tried to convince me that you were a decent guy, but he was so clearly wrong.”

Dean hisses out a breath. “Leave Beau out of this. We’re talking about you and Tuck.”

“Do you really want to pick a fight with a pregnant chick right now? Because I’m warning you—my hormones are all over the place. I might claw your eyes out.”

He looks unfazed. “You’re fucking up my boy’s life. You really think I’m just going to stand by and let you do that?”

Gritting my teeth, I slam the dresser drawer shut and mimic his pose, positioning my arms tight across my swollen breasts. “Tucker is a grown-up. He also happens to be the father of this baby. If he wants to have a hand in raising her, I can’t exactly stop him.”

Frustration clouds his expression. “This will ruin his whole life. Don’t you get that? He’s giving up everything he’s worked toward for a chick who doesn’t even love him.”

My jaw almost hits the floor. Where the fuck does he get off saying this shit to me?

“What makes you think I don’t love him?” I shoot back defiantly.

“Because if you did, then you’d already have a ring on your finger. Tuck doesn’t do things half-assed. He loves you, you’re having his kid—if he thought for a moment that you loved him back, you’d be getting married in City Hall before this kid pops out. Instead, he’s staying in Boston when all he’s talked about since freshman year is going back to Texas—”

Guilt pricks my throat. Hard.

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