Page 52 of Pieces

“I don’t care what other people think.”

I cross my arms over my body, pinning him with a look. “Oh really? You’d be fine with marching up to my dad, not only telling him you’re dating me but also that we’re pregnant?”

He pales, and I think I see his eye twitching.

“Yeah. He’s the reason you didn’t come find me before you even knew about the baby, so don’t pretend like you want to date me, Hudson. I get it. It’s not an ideal situation.”

His hand runs down his face slowly before he looks right at me again. “Okay, but in my defense, your dad gives really scary speeches about you to the team.” He swallows hard, and for a split second, I think he might be the one to puke. “And yeah, he would hate me. But before, I figured he’d hate me more if he knew I slept with you and didn’t make you my girlfriend first. You’re his daughter.”

“And yet here I am, pregnant with your child. I think that trumps dating me somehow. Now this is way more permanent.” I suck in a breath. “We’re going to have to tell him sooner or later. There’s only so long I can wear a winter coat in the spring and summer before he gets suspicious. Oh, and the little fact that a baby will suddenly be here.” Great, now I’m panicking. I know how protective my dad was over me in high school. He vetted all guys I dated and some chickened out purely from him shaking his hand.

“Jesus,” he whispers. “He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?”

I sigh, trying to loosen the knot in my chest. “I don’t know, but I do know you didn’t do thistome. We slept together. It was consensual and something I wanted, so I won’t let him hurt you.”

The side of Hudson’s mouth tips up, and damn him for looking so cute. “My personal bodyguard against your dad? I like that.”

“Have you seen me? I’m hardly a bodyguard.” I pull up my sleeve and flex my arms and, yep, not really much muscle to show. When I look at Hudson, his eyes are darker, and just when he licks his lips, I feel it all over. I look away, clearing my throat. “Well, anyway, I don’t know if you dating me will soften the blow of being pregnant so, let’s just leave it for now and be friends?”

His face falls, but he nods, albeit reluctantly. “Okay, well, I like to know my friends a little better than I currently know my baby mama, so we should talk about…stuff.”

“Stuff?” I raise an eyebrow.

“You know, stuff…” He waves his hands around vaguely, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Saying ‘stuff’ again doesn’t make me understand what you want to know,” I say, fighting back a smile.

Dragging a hand through his hair, he groans. “I’m not good at this sort of stuff.”

“There you go with that word again,” I tease, and his mouth twitches.

“I feel like I should know what breakfast you like—aside from pancakes, obviously, because I know you love those. But I want to know things that might help me with…everything.”

I tilt my head, considering him for a second. I get what he’s saying. “I want to know you too. But me listing my favorite foods and hobbies to you isn’t how I think we get to know each other. I think we’ll have to spend time together and talk.”

“Like friend dating?”

I chuckle at his insistence. “Or just friendship. Funny thing is, I like hanging out with my friends.”

“Oh, good.” He leans back, his shoulders relaxing a little. “Because I was already planning to be around a lot. And speaking of friends, do you want to meet mine? We’re all having dinner at Lakeside Diner tomorrow.”

“I, uh…” Why am I hesitating? Of course I want to meet his friends. I just don’t love the idea of being the one who suddenly shows up and is pregnant with his child. That makes me feel weird. “If I say yes, can we keep the baby quiet for a bit? It’s early, and I’m a little nervous.”

“Of course, we can do whatever you feel comfortable with. I just want you to be a part of my group…both of you to be. We’re gonna need all the help we can get, and these guys will be the best, I know it.”

I glance at him, and before I can stop myself, my gaze lingers. It’s not intentional, at least, that’s what I tell myself, but the way his lips quirk into a slow, almost lazy smile makes me wonder if he knows exactly what he’s doing to me by being sweet and kind.

There’s something about him I can’t quite place. It’s warm, sexy, and far too inviting. It makes my pulse gallop recklessly, and I’m hyper-aware of how close we are. Close enough that I can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw that highlights the darker tones running through his hair, the way his shoulders seem to angle just slightly toward me, like he’s drawn to the same invisible pull I feel.

His focus drops to my lips, just long enough to make my heart skip, and the perusal his eyes take makes me tingle. When our eyes connect again, those hazel depths swirl with amber and greens that are so captivating I don’t want to look away.

He leans forward a little more. “For someone who doesn’t want to date me, you sure stare a lot.”

I swear all this elevated heart rate can’t be good for baby. “I’m not staring. It’s the baby brain I read about last night.” Even though I’m 100% certain it’s too early right now, I’m using it.

He smirks, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch grazing my skin featherlight and yet I feel it everywhere. “Okay, Daph,” he says, standing up, pressing a kiss to my forehead in a way he hasn’t done before. But I like it a lot.

I stand with him, hoping I don’t wobble, and when his hand passes over my still flat stomach, I nearly collapse from the contact. “For the record, you can stare at me any time you like. Because I can’t keep my eyes off you.” His gaze lowers to where his hand is still on my belly, just as butterflies swarm from that comment. “Bye, baby. Be good for Mommy.”

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