Page 307 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

One more glance is exchanged with my one ally at the table before I say, “I’m pregnant.”

Boom.

Just like that.

I’m in. I drop the bomb. And then I sit there and wait for World War III to begin.

Except it doesn’t.

There wasn’t any noise before I confessed my secret, but now it’s dead quiet in this corner of the restaurant. The waiter even stops by, but as soon as he opens his mouth, he closes it and rushes away again.

My mom asks, “This is a joke, right? The godparent thing was too much, so you having your own baby at this point in your life is not a good idea. Please tell me you’re trying to get a rise out of us like you did when you were a teen.”

I can’t say I was hoping for the best. I was expecting the worst. And she beat those expectations. “You’re a horrible person.”

“Tatum,” my dad snaps at me.

“You both are. I don’t know why you had me.”

“Because of the inheritance,” my mom replies like that is normal.

Harrison is standing and pulling out my chair. “We’re done here.”

I don’t remember breathing or not breathing. I only remember the look in their eyes as we got up and decided to leave them behind. I also remember how the world got quiet that night, my thoughts screaming in my head.

Harrison was holding my hand but already held my heart. And that night he proved it. On the sidewalk, I tugged him to a stop. When he turned back, unsure why I did that, he asks, “What’s going on?”

“I love you.”

27

Harrison

I had plans.

Romantic plans.

Plans that included us dancing in the living room, romancing her on her birthday, and then telling her how I feel about Tatum. But after that . . . after her parents just told her that she was born so they could receive a fucking inheritance, I’m livid.How can parents do that to their own flesh and blood? Onher fucking birthday, no less.

Standing on a sidewalk in the middle of Manhattan wasn’t my plan for romancing my girl, but my brave beauty—who loves me—needs to know this truth. “I love you, Tatum.”

She never appeared to second-guess what she confessed, and neither do I.

Nodding, she asks, “You do?”

“Call me crazy, but I’ve fallen completely in love with you.” Raising her hand to my mouth, I kiss it. “You drive me nutty sometimes, and I find you so hard to read at other times. But we have something special, a connection that time and distance never broke. Can’t break.” Pulling her into my arms, I say, “I love you, Tatum. All of you.”

Her smile cracks open, and her arms tighten around me. “I love you, too. So much.”

I catch her rolling her eyes, though. “What is it?”

“I have nothing to complain about other than water under the bridge that you never texted or called, even when you had a way to get my number.”

“Yeah,” I say, sighing, “I fucked up, but I’m willing to do the time to make it up to you.” Swaying her hips back and forth, I ask, “What are you going to do for me for making the same mistake?” I waggle my eyebrows so easily pleased.

Her laughter is so good to hear. I know her parents’ disgusting attitude and comment will settle in, but I don’t see regret in her eyes. Yet.She’s much stronger than I am.

“How about we get home so I can show you how I plan to make up for that mistake? I might even need to make up for it several times over.”

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