Page 68 of The Hard Hitter

“Yes, she told me. She’s a wreck, Zander. And by the looks of things so are you.” She shakes her head, her gaze slowly moving over me. “God, when was the last time you combed your hair or shaved your face?”

I run my hand over my chin, and the bristles rustle.

Quinn points a finger and waves it up and down the length of me. “Look at your clothes.”

I glance down, and note the spaghetti stains on last night’s T-shirt. “Yeah, okay. I could use a shower and change of clothes.”

“If you love her, what’s the problem here?” Quinn asks.

My head jerks up. “Who says I love her?”

“I do,” Jonah pipes in, and folds his arms across his chest like he’s daring me to challenge him.

“So do I,” Quinn adds. “Look, I set her up with Todd on purpose. Todd is gay, Zander. He has a boyfriend.”

“What the hell?”

“He was doing me a favor. I wanted to see your reaction, and dammit, you nearly went caveman on the guy! And don’t think for a second that I don’t know what went on in that bathroom. Everyone was talking about it after you left.” She gives a low, slow whistle. “You’ve got it bad for her.”

I sink back into my chair and run my hand through my hair. “Did she tell you she was leaving? That she’s interviewing for a job in Texas?”

“Do you really believe that?” Quinn asks, and takes a pull from her cup, her eyes never leaving mine. “Did you stop for a second and listen to what she was trying to tell you?”

?

??No.” For the millionth time, my mind goes back to the letter I found on Sam’s kitchen table, to the horrible way I’d confronted her outside the bathroom. She’d started to say something but stopped when I noticed the stick. Was she trying to tell me she wasn’t leaving and I was too stupid, too angry, to listen?

I briefly close my tired eyes. Fuck, I haven’t slept properly in two days. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” I only know Sam and I need to talk,

“Stop being such a chickenshit,” Jonah says, and I glare at him, ready to punch him in the fucking mouth. Then again, I probably said the same thing to him, when he was fighting his own demons where my sister was concerned.

“I’m not a chickenshit,” I say, and sit up a little straighter. I run my damp hands over my jeans and take deep breaths. Why does it feel like I’m suffocating in here?

Jonah scoffs, but then his eyes go serious. “No, what you are is a guy who cares so much about his daughter, he’s shut everyone out. But it’s not just your daughter you’re protecting.”

“You’re protecting yourself too, Zander.” Quinn reaches across the table, puts her hand over mine. “If anyone can understand what you’re going through, how afraid you are of putting your heart out there, only to get it stomped on again, it’s me.”

I meet my sister’s blue eyes, and a headache begins to brew at the base of my skull. I reach for my coffee with a shaky hand, but my throat is too tight to swallow. They’re not wrong. The truth is, for many years now, I have been afraid. Too scared to trust, too afraid of getting hurt.

“Quinn…” I begin, and let my words fall off. I have no idea what to say, or where to go from here. All I know is I made a big mistake and somehow have to fix it.

“You love her, Zander,” she says, a statement, not a question.

My heart squeezes, and I pinch the bridge of my nose as everything I feel for Sam wells up inside me, clogs my throat to the point of pain. “She’s having my baby.”

You were the one who first forgot the condom, dude.

“You’re so afraid, you pushed her from your life before she could disappear from yours,” Quinn says.

Jesus, when did my sister get so smart. I shake my head, so goddam proud of the woman she is today.

“It’s time to stop pushing, Zander. Great things can happen when you do.” She leans into Jonah, and he wraps his arms around her, the love they have for each other filling the space between us.

I swallow down the bile punching into my throat as I consider what she’s saying to me. Had I sabotaged us on purpose? Had I left her before she could leave us?

“Do you honestly think Sam is the type of girl to trick you, use you to get a baby, and then disappear?” Quinn asks softly.

“No,” I say with total confidence as I think about Sam, and the horrible things I said to her. Embarrassment, regret and shame fill me, and I don’t try to tamp it down. I deserve to feel miserable. I lashed out from fear, and I fucking hate myself for it. She deserved better from me.

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