Page 36 of Draft Pick

However, as I greeted each morning with my face in the toilet, I was overwhelmed with the urge to punch him in the nuts.

Sloane started to say something but abruptly snapped her mouth shut as she stared ahead with an uncertain expression. Immediately alarmed, I followed her gaze and nearly swallowed my gum.

Cason-freaking-Alexander was waiting by my car like a handsome stalker or the misguided hero from a '90s-era rom-com.

Sloane looked to me for direction, murmuring under her breath, "How are we handling this? Should I slap him or say, 'Hey Cason, how's it going?' Just tell me which way the wind is blowing so I can adjust accordingly."

I appreciated her support, but I didn't know how to handle the situation, and it showed when I continued to stare like I'd suddenly gone mute. Sloane assessed and made an executive decision.

"Okay, here's the situation. I know that you're mad at him and you guys have stuff to talk about. With that said, I wouldn't normally be cool with leaving a pregnant woman alone, late at night, in a parking lot, but I think you're safe with Cason. I mean, he's not like a bad guy, right? I don't have to worry about him stuffing you in the trunk and dropping you in a lake somewhere."

I shot Sloane an alarmed look. "You watch too many crime shows. No, I'm not in any danger from Cason."Aside from a broken heart.

Satisfied, Sloane said, "Okay, well I'm going to leave you guys alone for a much-needed conversation. Whatever you decide, I'm here for you and I support your decision."

The offered slap to the face held a certain appeal, but I nodded and waved as Sloane detoured to her car and drove away.

I drew a deep breath and met Cason at my car, going straight to the point because I was too tired to be subtle or even polite. "What are you doing here?"

Even standing there awkwardly, he was still fine as hell. Well, at least my baby would have great genes.

"I went to your apartment and your roommate said that you were working, so I figured I would just meet you here," he answered as if it were completely normal to do so. "How are you?"

I ignored the attempt at small talk. "Why would you do that?" I asked bluntly.

That's right, we aren't playing this game where small talk is appropriate. Get to the point.

He had the grace to look ashamed, knowing full well that the last time we talked was after an epic Sunday of amazingness, and then he ghosted me. Cason started, "I owe you an apology and I definitely am sorry for the way things went down, but I need to talk to you about something else that's really important."

A warning tingle raced down my spine. The way he was fidgeting and looked like he was ready to puke made me wonder if someone had already leaked my news. If so, that would piss me off because no one was supposed to say anything.

"Assuming I care, what do you need to talk about?"

He shoved his hands in his pocket and rocked on his heels as if trying to summon the courage to get what he needed to ask out of his mouth.

And then I knew — somehowheknew.

Damn it!

There went the decision I didn't even get to make because someone else had made it for me.

It didn't matter now. I ended the suspense for the sake of getting it over with and going home, stating flatly, "I'm pregnant."

All the air escaped his lungs as he stared. "How?"

"Your sperm met my egg, and together we made a human being, or more specifically, I am in the process of making a human being, it's still mostly a blob according to my doctor."

He looked ready to vomit. "You have a doctor?"

I was too tired for this kind of stupid questioning. "Yes, I have a doctor. That's what happens when you create new life. Even though women have been having babies for millions of years — or for, however, long human beings have been on earth, I would feel more comfortable with a trained professional guiding me through the process."

Cason swallowed, exasperated but trying to catch up. "Yeah, yeah, I know that pregnant women have doctors, I'm just, hold on, I need a minute," he said, leaning forward as if he were about to hyperventilate. He finally asked plaintively, "How the hell did this happen?"

I wish I could dredge up some sympathy because, to be fair, Cason was just now discovering what I'd found a month and a half ago, but I was too tired and cranky to make the effort. Still, I suppose he deserved a minute to wrap his head around it all.

"Look, I get that you're overwhelmed with the information but I'm really tired and I need to go home. I'm exhausted. The whole process of making eyeballs is really hard on the body."

"Making eyeballs…oh my God, that's really what's happening in there, isn't it?" His gaze dropped to my belly, and I wanted to pull my purse over my body to hide. He dragged his gaze back to me. "Of course, what do you need?" But then he returned to the first question. "Starlie, I don't understand, how did this happen? We used condoms. I-I'm assuming it's mine…hell, I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm rambling. Can I follow you home and we talk about this tomorrow morning?"

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