Alex (Heartbreakers & Troublemakers Book 3)

by Hope Hitchens

  “How did you know?” I asked her, referring to her kids.

  “I just did. Finn was my first pregnancy, and I had to skip a period and start throwing up before I knew. With Dylan, I just knew. I don’t know. I just had this gut feeling, and almost immediately I had breast pain and nausea. Colin thought it was in my head, till we went to the hospital and they told us at three weeks.” She stroked her son’s curly brown hair. Dylan looked like her. Brown curls and dark eyes. Finn looked like his dad, and Alex too, by extension. Lighter hair, but the eyes and freckles were a dead giveaway.

  “Do you think you might be?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

  “Do you want to be?” she asked.

  Did I? I was with kids all the time. I had dedicated college to studying early childhood development. I didn’t want them, not like, immediately. I liked kids enough. But I was twenty-three. I had time to change my mind a hundred times over before I made a decision. There were some forty-year-olds with kids in my class—first-time parents.

  I shrugged.

  “I guess I wouldn’t mind,” I said.

  “Would he?” she asked.

  If I had to guess, I would say yes. He would mind. He would probably hate it. We had just been talking about this the last time we were together; he doesn’t want kids. He wasn’t as direct about it as that, but he didn’t. What the hell would he do with them? He already has a terminally ill mother; why would he want another helpless person to provide for?

  “I don’t know, Robbi. We’ve just gotten back together. We aren’t talking kids.”

  Not seriously anyway. We didn’t have to, besides, because I wasn’t pregnant. It was like the way you think you have a cold and then you somehow sniff and sneeze a little more off the strength of your delusion. If I was pregnant, it was with a placebo baby.

  She shrugged, clearly unconvinced, but nice enough to keep it to herself. Maybe I was putting weight on, and she was trying to tell me. Since she mentioned the baby that might or might not have been growing inside me, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  Little so and so Kilgariff.

  Royce or Bruce if it was a boy. One little girl in my class was called Lux, like ‘light.’ I thought it was beautiful. Katherine… or Penelope… I smiled to myself. Fantasizing didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t want to let Lex in on it because like I had said, it was still early. He didn’t want them, anyway. And I was not pregnant.

  After the last date, we just settled on doing something at his house. It was still sort of a throwback, but we weren’t trying so hard this time. It was no time before he was on top of me in his bed. We had always had to try and be quiet when we were together in his room because of his mom. Not anymore. He wasn’t the only guy who had ever told me I was loud.

  It was Friday. I didn’t need to panic about trying to get to school on time the next day. He was always asking me to spend the night. The doorbell ringing downstairs once, twice and then three times, finally got him to get up.

  “Will you stay put this time?” he asked. “It’s probably Will. He comes by to smoke sometimes.” I raised my eyebrows. “He smokes. He,” he said.

  “Hurry it up,” I said in a fake agitated voice. I swatted his ass as he pulled his underwear on. He’d always make jokes about guys who only worked their arms in the gym, and I got it. His ass was phenomenal. I had had a hand in his back pocket as often as I could when we were younger.

  He left the room in just that.

  I rolled out of the bed and walked around the room naked. The walls had been light blue in the past, but they were whitewashed now. There were no more posters on the walls anymore, and all his sports trophies were gone. The bed was different too. Bigger—a good thing.

  Maybe he hadn’t gotten around to decorating yet.

  There was a small stack of books on his bedside table near the lamp. Biographies and autobiographies of sports figures, along with a couple of books about weapons and metalwork. I picked one up. Weapon: A Visual History of Arms and Armor. So, he was a… what’s the person who makes knives called? A blacksmith? A bladesmith? Did those still exist? It would explain the dungeon and the anvil and the hot steel.

  I heard yelling downstairs and put the book down. What was happening? Who was he talking to? I walked over to the door and opened it just a little. The voice returning insults to his was distinctly unmasculine. It was a woman. I grabbed a piece of clothing off the floor which ended up being Alex’s shirt and pulled it on. I wasn’t dressed to receive, but I wasn’t going all the way downstairs.

  I hovered near the top of the staircase. I didn’t have to get lower than that to hear them.

  “Get out of here, Cassie,” Alex shouted.

  “I don’t have anywhere to go. He kicked me out,” the woman, Cassie, apparently replied.

  “No, no, no. We’re not together, and the kid’s not mine. Leave!”

  It was like ice up the column of my spine. I staggered back to the bedroom. The shouting stopped soon, but Lex didn’t come back upstairs.

  The kid?

  Did Lex have a child he hadn’t told me about?

  It was entirely possible, but he told me he didn’t have sex without condoms on.

  Of course he didn’t, Olivia, remember that next time his come is dripping down your inner thigh, I thought.

  I waited, unsure of what to do. Everything in my body said run. And I would if he gave me a reason to. I wasn’t going to do anything until I talked to him.

  I stood and padded down the stairs, looking for him. I didn’t have to look far because he was in the kitchen.

  His back was to me, standing sort off hunched, leaned over the sink. I looked at his wide, powerful back. I could see the separation between the muscles, and he wasn’t even flexing. There was no sign of it ever being anything other than the strong column I was looking at. He had had to have had surgery on his back when he had his injury, hadn’t he? I couldn’t see a scar. If it was there, it was probably covered by his tattoo.

  I walked up to him. If he heard me, he didn’t turn around. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my face on his warm back. He stiffened before he relaxed, realizing who it was, probably. I felt him exhale. I kissed his back and shoulder, leaning up high as I could to kiss the back of his neck.

  “Who is she?” I whispered. His body tensed. I squeezed him tighter.

  “She’s… the girl… with the boyfriend… her. That’s who she is.”

  “Why is she here?”

  I felt his abdomen expand and contract against my hold.

  “She’s here because her boyfriend, the guy who was here last time, kicked her out. She says she has nowhere to go.”

  I kissed his back softly. His body relaxed against mine.

  “Is she pregnant?”

  I had a knot in my throat as I asked. If he wanted to lie to me, now was the time. He sighed again, and his hand gripped the side of the sink.

  “She is. But it’s not mine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I… the chances are that it isn’t mine. It was more guys than just me. She says it’s me like she’s sure, but she can’t be.”

  “What does she want?”

  “Somewhere to stay.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Her to leave,” he said gruffly.

  His hand covered one of mine, and he squeezed it, bringing it to his mouth to kiss.

  “I have to go,” I said to him.

  “Don’t,” he turned around and looked at me.

  “You have to talk to her.”

  “I don’t want to talk to her. The kid isn’t mine.”

  “Just hear her out. Okay?”

  He looked at me and frowned.

  “Not again, babe. I can’t lose you again.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t want to lose him either.

  “You need to sort this out, or it will just hang over us.”

  He shook his head. No. He should have been nodding. There
was probably more we didn’t know about, but we couldn’t just ignore what we did know. I wanted him to say the right thing. It didn’t matter if she was pregnant. What mattered was what he was going to do if it was his.

  “I don’t owe her anything. We were never together. I don’t love her, babe. The kid-”

  “Isn’t yours. You said that already, but there is a chance it might be.”

  He let out a harsh exhale and leaned against the sink.

  “The hits just keep coming, huh?” he said darkly.

  “Talk to her and figure this out,” I said, running a hand down his chest. He caught and held it there on his skin.

  “It was before you came back, sugar, I swear.”

  I leaned up, so our lips met.

  “I know. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  He held me by the nape and pushed our lips together hard. It wasn’t gentle or loving. It was insistent.

  “I love you,” he said, looking down at me. It wasn’t the first time he had said it. Not even the first time I had heard it from him since seeing him again, but it shook me. He was scared. I was scared too, but I didn’t want to show it. I could love him if he had a baby on the way with another woman. I did love him. I didn’t know if I still would if he abandoned Cassie.

  I kissed him softly.

  “I know you do.”

  I walked away.

  He held my hand to his chest until the distance between us made him release it.

  19

  Alexander

  Thank God it was Liv and not Cassie.

  For Cassie’s sake, not Liv’s. And mine.

  She came by the kitchen one last time before she left, just to say bye and tell me she would call me. Not to say she loved me though, she didn’t say that. I hated that I noticed. She didn’t have to say it for me to know she did. She was never shy about it before; why was she now?

  I listened to the door close behind her as she let herself out. This would have been a perfect time for her to lose her shit and start a fight. Maybe not fight physically, because Cassie was pregnant or whatever, but like, cuss her out and tell her to leave.

  Liv was better than that Jerry Springer shit, but I wasn’t. She wanted me to be though, so I would try. I didn’t need to fuck this up. She had left me alone with Cassie, which was something I didn’t expect that she would do. She didn’t have anything to worry about; I just thought she would be worried. I held off as long as I could without it seeming like I was just ignoring her. I grabbed some pants from the laundry room before going to the living room.

  She was standing, looking at the parenting books on the shelves. My mom’s. She took a while to notice me. She looked a little different. Softer. She had put weight on. Sorry, she was pregnant. Her stomach wasn’t sticking out, but her clothes were loose. They were probably hiding it. That little baby—did it even realize how much trouble it was giving me, and it wasn’t even old enough to digest on its own yet?

  “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” she said. No, you’re not, I thought. If you were, you wouldn’t show up. You’d be with the baby’s father telling him this bullshit. Where was that guy, who was he and why was I suffering instead of him?

  “Why me, Cass?” I asked her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You chose to tell me about the kid first, and you chose to come here after Travis kicked you out. Why me? Why not any of the other guys?”

  She looked down. Sheepish. I couldn’t wait to hear the answer to this.

  “Who was that girl?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about her,” I said tersely.

  She looked at me sort of sad, but also sort of angry.

  “How many of us are there?” she challenged.

  “Cassie, just answer the goddamn question.”

  “She’s your favorite. You love her, don’t you? More than me? More than the others?”

  “There are no others.”

  “But she’s the one, right? The one you chose? That’s why.”

  I looked at her. My irritation was spiking, but I had to keep my cool. This was not the right time for her to start talking in circles. It also was the wrong time for me to break my hand punching the wall. I had work tomorrow.

  “That’s why what?”

  “You picked her… I picked you.”

  What the hell. You can’t just switch out baby daddies when the one you have isn’t the one you want.

  “The kid isn’t mine.”

  “It might be. It’s definitely not Travis’s. He doesn’t want to know anymore.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “Just let me stay until I can get my own place or move in with someone. I know you don’t want me here. I can pay for my own place, but I need to find somewhere first.”

  What would Livvy hate me the most for doing right now? What was the wrong thing to do so I could avoid that? I wanted to kick her out, just like Travis had, but that sounded suspiciously like the wrong thing. What did she tell me to do? To hear her out. I had done that. Letting her stay here was nowhere on the cards. It would be lending a helping hand, and I was not asked to lend. Charity.

  I wasn’t the most charitable guy, but I had to pull my head out of my ass for a second. Cassie was pregnant. That was true, and she wasn’t going to stop being pregnant because I didn’t want her to be. She was pregnant whether the kid was mine or not. That meant, kicking her out would be kicking out a pregnant woman.

  I couldn’t…. okay, maybe could, but shouldn’t do that.

  Liv would be horrified. But then again, would she want me living with another woman? She lived with a man. It occurred to me that she might not care, and I hated that.

  Maybe if Cassie lived here, then she and I would be equal, both living with people we weren’t fucking. No… not the same. I still hated the lacrosse player. Livvy was the one who told me to reach out to Cassie. She wasn’t as jealous as I wanted her to be. Nope, not my Liv. She was nice and understanding instead.

  I looked at Cassie. She was attractive. Blue-eyed blonde. A little dark at the roots, so maybe not a natural blonde, but that hadn’t stopped me.

  “I can give you one night,” I said to her.

  “One night’s not enough to find somewhere to live.”

  “Hm. Better start looking now,” I said. I turned and walked away from her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Out. The house key is by the door. Don’t invite anybody over.”

  She started saying something to me, but I ignored her. I went up the stairs two at a time. My head felt like it was underwater. I had all this rage and nowhere to put it. I was mad at Cassie, but that was the thing; what if I was wrong? I wanted it to be her so I could direct my anger somewhere other than me, but what if that fucking kid really was mine? Then what? In six or so months, I’d be a dad. I’d have to be.

  Liv would hate me if I didn’t step up and father that kid. Fuck, I would hate me if I didn’t. What if that was a deal breaker for Liv? I didn’t want to lose her in this, but that wasn’t even my call to make. I could ask her to stay all I wanted, but this wasn’t something I could chance if it was too much for her. If she didn’t like my hair the length it was, I could shave it off. Didn’t like what I wore; I could change. I couldn’t stop being the kid’s dad if I was.

  Fuck.

  Fuck this.

  Fuck everything.

  I got to my room and started looking for something to put on. Cassie had to stay here, but I didn’t. My body felt like it was charged, like whatever I touched would explode. This was why I played football in high school. And tried to in college. It was basically institutionally sanctioned violence towards others and yourself, in the name of scoring a few touchdowns.

  I had to do something or else I would combust. I could go to the gym; it wasn’t called 24-Hour Fitness for nothing. I could do that, or I could just go to the garage and try pound a piece of scrap metal into a blade.

  I put a shirt on, and a jacket. I walked back
down the stairs. I hadn’t offered Cassie anything to eat or drink, but she had invited herself over. The kitchen wasn’t hard to find, she walked past it on her way into ruin my life. This wasn’t a damn Marriott. She would find the bottled water if she was thirsty enough.

  Was there a way to find out who the kid’s dad was now, so I could kick her out and not feel like an asshole about it? My dad… I had never gotten the entire story, but this was basically history repeating itself. Who would divorce the pregnant mother of their kids? I wouldn’t, but if that was what the fuck really happened, I understood why Dad would do it. I didn’t like it; it was still a dick move, but Cassie wasn’t the one who was supposed to be having my child. It made sense in its own warped, stupid, selfish way.

  I left the house and got on my motorcycle. If I just jumped on the highway, how long would it be before I got to Reno? If I got to Reno, I’d know I went too far.

  Where the hell was Liv? Why’d she leave? I needed her. How many ledges had she talked me off of when we were together? All of them, basically. She always told me when I was wrong, but usually, when I was wrong, I knew it and just didn’t care. More than that, she was there. She just listened to me. A lot of the time I didn’t even want advice or anything, I just wanted someone to fucking listen.

  Wasn’t that why anyone got a girlfriend? That and the other stuff too. Blowjobs when you wanted them… maybe you loved her.

  I loved her.

  Lights flashed by on either side of me as I rode down the road. I could go to her. No, I couldn’t go to her, she would just ask me to leave again. I ended up outside a 24-hour weed place Will and I had been to a couple of times. I wasn’t thinking of buying. I just couldn’t talk on the phone and ride at the same time.

  She made me wait three rings before she picked up.

  “Lex?”

  It was like my blood pressure just dropped fifty points. Like I’d just smoked up and was getting a body high. I felt a million times calmer just hearing her voice.

  “Babe,” I said.

  “Is something wrong? Where is Cassie?” she asked me.