Page 43 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
“Nothing.” I exhaled sharply. At one point, I’d really wanted to hear that. “I won’t come home and play happy pack if the baby is mine. But I will do my duty as a father.”
“I don’t want your money,” she spat.
“I was speaking more of knowing her. Taking her fishing, teaching her hockey. I won’t fight you for her, but I’d definitely help support her.” Perhaps a college fund or trust if Morgan didn’t want support payments. We could go on fun holidays, and perhaps my next team would be closer and I could be more present.
“Oh. I could absolutely see you wearing her in an infant carrier, while teaching her how to fish.” Morgan sighed. “BabyBean is fine. I… I don’t know if I want the test. I do want you to come home though.”
“The house is sold. I’ll be there next weekend to take care of some things.”
“Where did you move to?” Curiosity tinged her voice.
There it was. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Please tell me you didn’t quit hockey and move to New York like some bohemian filmmaker? I don’t want to be the reason you leave hockey.”
“I didn’t quit hockey.” My eyebrows furrowed. How did she know I was in New York?
She sighed in relief. “So you’ll be back when the season starts? You just needed some time away to look at art? I can respect that. Are you moving in with Cooter?”
Did she not know New York had hockey? She was never interested in the nuances of the sport. Though she’d come to games and cheer for me. They all had. Jacen loved watching hockey.
“How do you know I’m in New York looking at art?” I frowned.
“People take pictures of you and put them online. Who’s the pink-haired girl with the nose ring? She’s an art student? I was never artsy enough for you.” There was a hint of jealousy in her voice.
Woah. I took a deep breath, suppressing a growl of annoyance.
“She’s not a film student and I’m not seeing her. She’s a hockey player, showing me around the city, and knows nothing about art,” I explained. There were pictures of us online?
“You took her dancing.” Morgan sounded like she was pouting. She loved dancing. Not to country music–formal dancing. I learned the dances because it made her happy.
I sighed. “Is there anything you need from me?”
“Come home?” The whine in her voice tugged at my alpha nature.
It was too late for that.
“Things can’t go back to how they were. I’m sorry. There’s nothing you, or anyone, can do to fix it. We’re over and I’m moving on with my life.” I ended the call, my shoulders slumping. I’d told her this many times, but this time it felt so final.
Yet it was. I was tired of her acting like I’d changed my mind if she nagged me enough. Taking my phone, I did something I should have done long ago, and I blocked her.
Taking a deep breath, I emailed my lawyer, just in case.
Emotion exploded in my chest. It wasn’t sadness. It was relief.
I checked the time and closed my laptop. Yes, it was time to move on. First step, meeting some fellow Knights.
“Hey, Tens.” Gwen grabbed my hand, dragging me into the large workout room at the training center, which reeked of sweaty alpha. She was wearing leggings and a sports bra, showing off her muscles—and her ribs.
Worry about her not eating enough to compensate for all the calories she burned tugged at me again. Nachos and hot dogs weren’t a nutritious dinner. She probably wasn’t cooking for herself either. Cooking for one was lonely.
Would it be strange to invite her over? I had no idea how to take care of her without making it weird. But I itched to.
“Hi, Firecracker.” I sensed the room change as we entered. But I was a large alpha, who was often calledstoicand not known to them.
“This is Carlos, and that’s Dimitri,” Gwen introduced. “This is my friend Tens. I first met Carlos when we played together in community college. Dimitri is back from vacation.”
“Hey, man.” A nice-looking Hispanic guy, a couple inches taller than Gwen, and a little younger than me, who was shirtless and holding a weight, waved with his free hand. Carlos Rodriguez was a forward, a left winger. He often acted as agitator, riling up the other team’s players—and was good at it.
