Page 74 of Hooked On Them

I had about a thousand questions, but none that a doctor could answer. They were all versions ofHow the hell do I do this?andWhat if I’m just like my father?

“I think we’re good.” Nora was watching me closely.

“Perfect! If anything comes up, just call the office.” Dr. Patel paused at the door. “And congratulations.”

I couldn’t stop looking at the grainy black-and-white images that had just permanently altered my universe.

Nora slid off the exam table and came to stand in front of me. I stared up at her from my chair, really seeing her. Not just the woman who’d turned my life upside down, but someone carrying my child. Someone who’d trusted me enough to let me witness this moment despite everything that had happened between us.

My fingers itched to reach for her, to make some sort of connection, but I kept them firmly wrapped around the edges of the photo instead. “Baby Wilson,” I said softly, as if I was talking to the baby directly.

“Baby Wilson,” she repeated with a small nod.

And for the first time in weeks, I finally felt like the ground was solid beneath me.

Chapter24

Hormonal Sun

Nora

Iwas no stranger to keeping secrets from my dad. But keeping this baby-sized secret that was currently making me crave Jell-O and making me pee approximately every fourteen minutes had proved more challenging than anticipated.

I rearranged the throw pillows on my couch for the fifth time, as if the feng shui of decorative cushions would somehow make this evening go smoother.

My dad was in town for a game, and even though I’d be seeing him the following week when I flew home to Los Angeles for Christmas, I couldn’t not have him over. However, after our horrible loss against the Pacific Storm with a complete shutout with them scoring five goals, I’d rather lick my wounds alone.

My phone buzzed with a text from my dad saying he was ten minutes away.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered, rubbing my belly, which still wasn’t showing unless you counted the tiny bump that only appeared when I was naked. “Your grandpa is going to lose it.”

I’d taken to talking to my stomach lately, and I was sure my baby was going to think I was nuts before they even came into the world. Or they would need immediate therapy right out of the womb.

I quickly went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked normal. Tired, but not obviously pregnant. It had been a little over a week since my ultrasound, and my baby bump still hadn’t grown beyond a small swell that wasn’t noticeable unless you looked for it.

Still, earlier before the game when I’d seen my dad, he’d given me a funny look, studying me like I was game film he couldn’t quite decode. Brett Hastings didn’t miss much, especially when it came to me.

There was a knock on the door, scattering my thoughts like startled birds.

I took a deep breath, mentally repeating:You’re a grown-ass woman. You have a career. You pay taxes. You can tell your dad you’re pregnant.

When I opened the door, my dad stood there with a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. His Pacific Storm jacket was unzipped, revealing a plain black T-shirt that somehow made him look younger than his fifty-four years.

“There’s my girl.” He pulled me into a one-armed hug that smelled like the same aftershave he’d worn my entire life.

“Hey, Dad.” My voice sounded unnaturally bright, even to my own ears. “Come on in.”

He walked past me into the apartment. “Hope you don’t mind that I grabbed some munchies on the way. That loss was brutal, so I figured you might need some.”

“Gee, thanks. But, yeah, it really was.” I followed him to the kitchen, where he began unpacking the bag that had fancy crackers, cheese, and chocolate-covered almonds. All of my favorites.

Dad moved to put the wine in my refrigerator, pausing when he opened the door. His eyebrows lifted as he surveyed the interior. Specifically, the three shelves stacked with cups of Jell-O in various flavors.

“Planning to wrestle?” His voice was casual, but his eyes were anything but.

Heat crawled up my neck. “I’ve been craving it lately.”

“Interesting.” He placed the wine in the door, then turned to look at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Your mother craved Jell-O when she was pregnant with you and Josie. Lime, specifically. She used to eat it at three in the morning.”

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