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Team Player

Page 18

by Adriana Locke


  I clear my throat. “Like the calm before the storm,” I mutter.

  “Exactly!”

  Once we’re at the top, I hop out first and extend my hand to help her down.

  “This way,” I say, and she follows. I lead her to the lookout deck. You can see the whole lake from here. People pay just for this view.

  “Oh my God,” she breathes, taking it all in. The crystal blue lake that reflects like a mirror, the snow-covered mountaintops in the distance. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Beautiful doesn’t even fucking begin to describe it,” I say, but I’m not looking at the lake. The pink in Mollie’s cheeks deepens. I like making her blush. I want to make that whole body blush, again and again.

  “Why did you bring me here?” she asks, doubt lacing her tone.

  I could give her some bullshit line, but if I remember correctly, Mollie is the type of girl who appreciates straightforwardness.

  “You looked sad.” I shrugged. “I guess I wanted to fix it. Also, your ass looks fucking phenomenal, and I wouldn’t mind spending time with it again. I mean you. You again. And also your ass.”

  She looks up at me with tears swimming in those brown eyes. Okay, I guess she didn’t appreciate the honesty…

  “Whoa, my bad, Mollie. Don’t cry.”

  “No,” she says, waving me off. “That was just really sweet.”

  That’s not exactly the word I’d use to describe it, but I’m not going to argue. I notice a little smudge of brown on the corner of her berry-colored lips, and without thinking, I lean in and slowly slide my thumb across it. Mollie’s breath hitches, as I pull it back and suck it off my thumb.

  “Mmm. Hot chocolate.”

  Mollie bites her lip, and in a bold move, I lean forward again to lick it straight from the source. Her mouth parts, and I take the opportunity to suck her bottom lip into my mouth. Her palms come up to my chest, but instead of pushing me away, she grips my jacket. I take that as permission to slip my tongue inside, sliding it against hers.

  “Cam!” a familiar voice shouts. I break away from Mollie with a groan and look over to see Emersyn with her parents and two older people. She holds up a finger, letting them know she’ll be right back, and runs over to us.

  “Long time no see, Mini Shredder.” Who shall from now on be mentally referred to as Mini Cockblock.

  “My mom and dad wanted to show my grandparents the lookout,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  I laugh at her attitude and ruffle her wind-knotted hair. “Tough break,” I say sarcastically.

  “I know, right? Is this your girrrrrlfriend?” Em sings.

  “No,” I say, clearing my throat and scratching at the back of my neck. “Emersyn, this is my friend, Mollie. Mollie, this is one of my kids.”

  Mollie’s wide eyes dart to mine, and I realize how that sounded.

  “One of my students,” I’m quick to amend. “I teach at the ski school.”

  “His best student,” Emersyn clarifies, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  “You cocky little—” I start, but then I turn to Mollie. “She’s right, though. You’ll be seeing this kid on TV someday soon. Mark my words.”

  Emersyn preens like a goddamn peacock and Mollie laughs at her antics, but her eyes are still glassy.

  “I really have to go,” she says, hooking a thumb behind her. “But it was nice to meet you!” she tells Emersyn. Turning back to me, she adds, “Thank you for this.”

  She doesn’t even give me a chance to respond before she’s walking back toward the lift. I take a minute to talk to Em, letting her know I’d see her in a couple of days for her private lesson before I decide to head back down myself.

  Welp. That was a fat fail. At least I have dinner to look forward to.

  Chapter 5

  Mollie

  That was, quite possibly, the most embarrassing moment of my life. I cried after someone complimented my ass. It wasn’t just that Cam was being sweet about wanting to cheer me up. It was a combination of things. The view. Seeing him interact with Emersyn. And knowing that I have to share my secret soon, when part of me likes having this little pinecone all to myself. Worrying about his reaction. All of it.

  If I’m not crying, I’m horny, hence letting him kiss me. What was I thinking? That’s all pregnancy is for me at this point—crying over nothing and fantasizing about everything. I feel like I have exactly zero control over my emotions or hormones, and that’s the most frustrating part.

  This morning, Tuck planned to keep me company, but my brothers wanted him to go boarding. He was reluctant, but I told him he should go. I’m not his girlfriend. It’s time for us to act like it. After I took the lift back down, I didn’t wait for anyone. I decided to go back to my room and get ready for tonight. Besides, I needed a minute to clear my head after running into Cam for the second time in as many days. Small towns suck.

  Sutton and I have plans, so I showered and then grabbed a quick bite to eat with Tuck. Now, I’m staring at my suitcase, debating what to wear. I’m not sure what we’re doing, but I think she said something about going to her friend’s house. Since I don’t think we’re going to be out in public, I decide to wear a cute gray formfitting wrap dress that does nothing to hide my growing stomach and my taupe-y suede over-the-knee boots. I throw on a gray scarf and an oversized cardigan, grab my purse, and head down to the lobby, hoping I’m not unlucky enough to run into Camden Hess for a third time. Sutton’s waiting for me in her SUV outside the revolving doors, and I rush toward the passenger door, already feeling the bitter cold seeping into my bones. Sutton squeals when I open the door, hugging me over the middle console.

  “I fucking missed you!” she yells into my ear. “And look at you!” She pulls back, pushing my cardigan out of the way to get a better look. “I knew. I just fucking knew it,” she says, shaking her head.

  “What?” I ask defensively.

  “I knew you’d be the cutest pregnant bitch alive. You’re all tummy, and even that is tiny.”

  “I’m only like twenty weeks. You’ll have to roll me around soon.”

  “Doubtful,” she says, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “So, where are we going again?”

  “I asked my friend Briar to hang out earlier. She’s sort of new in town, but she’s good people. You’ll like her. She invited us to hang out at her friend’s house.”

  “Like, a party?” I ask. “Because I don’t want to be the pregnant chick at the party.”

  “No.” Sutton laughs, “They’re just hanging out. Probably playing some pool and some snowskate.”

  “What the hell is snowskate?”

  “Like skateboarding…in the snow.”

  “So, snowboarding?”

  “Huh,” Sutton says, looking contemplative. “I never thought of that. They’re different somehow.” She shrugs. “Anyway, Briar is gorgeous and the most genuine chick I know—besides you,” she adds belatedly. “And her fiancé? Jesus Christ, that guy is probably the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in real life. I mean, I’m a little afraid of him, but he’s fun to look at.”

  “You’re a mess.” I laugh.

  “Says the pregnant girl in denial,” she slings back, rolling her eyes.

  “Shut up! I am not in denial. I’m very aware that I’m going to be in charge of a human life in just a couple of months.”

  “And you’re going to rock it, so get that panicked look off your face. This is a good thing, Mollie. The best thing, even if you can’t see it now.”

  My stupid pregnancy hormones strike again, and it’s all I can do to nod without bursting into tears. I’ve been working temp jobs since being laid off, while looking for other career opportunities. I still live with my best friend-slash-fake boyfriend. The baby’s father doesn’t even know. I feel like a failure of a mom and my kid hasn’t even been born.

  I turn up the radio to avoid talking about this particular subject, and “Closer” by The Chainsmokers blares from the speakers. We’re driving for
longer than I expected, past the city limits. There aren’t any streetlights out here, and the roads are long and windy.

  “Are you sure you’re not actually taking me somewhere to kill me?” I ask, only half-joking.

  “I’m just following the directions she gave me. I’ve never been out this far.”

  We drive for a more miles on the edge of the lake, the road becoming increasingly narrow, and the sky darker. The snow is really starting to come down now, and the streets are covered in white. Finally, we pull up to a dark brown cabin. It’s covered in snow, and there are three guys with what appears to be skateboards without the wheels and one tiny blonde girl bundled up, standing in the front yard.

  The blonde, whom I assume is Briar, waves as we walk up the icy driveway.

  “Be careful,” she says, gesturing to the ground. “It’s super slippery.”

  Sutton and Briar hug, and when they pull apart, Briar beams at me. “I’m Briar,” she says, holding out a hand. I take it and introduce myself.

  “This is Asher,” she says, tugging him over by his arm. Damn. Sutton is right. He’s nice to look at, but intimidating as hell. He gives me a nod, squeezes Briar’s ass, and kisses the top of her head before he jumps onto his skateboard without wheels and slides down the little hill in the yard.

  “This is Adrian, who’s basically my brother,” she says, pointing to a guy who smiles suggestively at me, his deep dimples on display. “My actual brother is…away,” she says cryptically. “And this is Dare. He’s grumpy, but he’s harmless.”

  Tall and tattooed grunts at me in response. He looks vaguely familiar. They’re all gorgeous, but Dare is like the leader of the beautiful, and even more threatening than Asher. I think it’s a rule that you must be ridiculously attractive to hang out with this crowd.

  “We should go inside before the ladies get cold,” Adrian says.

  “We’re fine,” Sutton insists.

  “Not you. I mean these assholes,” he says, flicking his chin toward Dare and Asher.

  “Where did Tweedledee and Tweedledum go?” Asher asks, as if suddenly noticing someone is missing, as we walk inside.

  “They’ll be right back,” Dare says, holding the door open for us.

  Inside, it’s sort of bare—which is to be expected for a guy’s house. What I don’t expect is how beautiful it is. Tall, wooden beams and vaulted ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows. A pool table sits in the middle of an open room off to the side of the kitchen, and there are two rustic brown couches that sit in front of a somewhat formidable fireplace made from stone.

  Sutton takes off her coat, revealing a cream color off-the-shoulder sweater and skinny black jeans, and Briar tells her to hang it on the hook by the door. I follow suit, hanging my cardigan and scarf next to hers.

  Sutton’s hands are immediately on my belly. “I can’t even handle it, Molls. This is amazing.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Briar asks, extending her hand, but she snatches it back before she makes contact. “Can I feel? I mean, is that weird?” I laugh and assure her that I don’t mind.

  I know a lot of pregnant women hate their stomachs being touched—I’ve been on enough online baby forums to know that’s generally a no-no—but I’m not one of those women. I think it’s sweet. Ask me again when a stranger tries it, though, and I might answer differently.

  I don’t even see how it happens, but Adrian’s on his knees in front of me in a flash, adding his hand to the mix. I’ve got three sets of hands on my body—two of them belonging to strangers. This is the most action I’ve had in months.

  “How far along are you?” Briar asks. “If Sutton didn’t start rubbing you like a Magic 8 Ball, I wouldn’t have even known. You’re tiny.”

  “Like twenty weeks. Now is when I’ll really start packing on the pounds, or so I hear.” It feels good to talk to people about this who don’t know me or my situation. They’re just genuinely curious and excited. Babies have a way of doing that to people.

  Briar is the first to step back, and Sutton is next. Adrian lingers, gripping my bump like a basketball.

  “I’m weirdly aroused right now, I’m not gonna lie.”

  The room goes dead silent, everyone looking to each other, each expression a variation of did he really just say that?

  “What?” Adrian asks, looking around, genuinely confused.

  I’m the first one to break, unable to keep the full-on belly laugh inside. Dare snorts out a laugh, and like a domino effect, everyone else follows.

  Just then, I hear the front door open. It happens in slow-motion, the way I turn my head toward the sound, only to see a tattooed hand dropping a set of keys and said keys clanging to the hardwood floor. The way the smile melts off my face, and the way that happy, carefree feeling morphs into horror.

  Because it’s Cam at the door, staring right at my pregnant stomach, and Adrian’s hands that are all over it.

  “Who’s the pregnant chick?” a guy who looks a lot like Cam says from behind his shoulder as he chews on what appears to be a breadstick. I realize now that he’s his brother, and he was at the bar that night. That must be why Dare looked familiar to me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Cam barks, his eyes hard in a way that I’ve never seen from him before.

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I was going to tell you.”

  Once again, the room is quiet, everyone seemingly confused—not excluding myself—but knowing something significant is going down.

  “Okay,” Briar drawls, yanking a baffled Adrian up by the back of his hoodie. “This is our cue to leave.”

  The guy behind Cam moves around him, with a pizza box in one arm, and everyone makes their way up the stairs, except Sutton, who hangs back for a minute.

  “I didn’t know,” she says, sincerity dripping from every word, her eyes begging me to believe her. “I swear.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her, because this moment has been a long time coming. It might be a bit more dramatic than I’d have liked it to be, but it needs to happen nonetheless.

  Once we’re left alone, Cam kicks the door closed behind him and walks to the fridge, helping himself to a beer. Weirdly, I wonder how close of friends he is with these people. Obviously comfortable enough to walk in without knocking and raid Dare’s fridge. What are the odds? And why me?

  “I wanted to tell you,” I say again, not having any idea where to start.

  “I don’t think there’s anything to say, really,” he says with a shrug.

  My eyebrows cinch together in confusion. “Can you let me explain?”

  “What is there to explain? You let me kiss you when you’re pregnant. Now, I’m not the fucking moral police, but that seems a little fucked up to kiss another man when you’re pregnant, even for me. I’m sure your boyfriend super appreciates it.”

  What? Is that what he thinks? That it’s Tucker’s?

  “Cam—” I try again, but he interrupts me.

  “And not only did you hide it from me, but then I walk in to find my friend’s hands all over you. Just how many guys have you let have a piece of that pie, Mollie Mabey?”

  I can’t begin to explain the anger that ripples through me in waves. In the short time I’ve spent with him, I’ve seen fun, cocky Cam, I’ve seen moody, guarded Cam, but I’ve never seen this mean side before.

  “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” I seethe, walking past him to grab my sweater and stuff off the hook. “Sutton!” I yell. “I’ll be in the car.”

  Chapter 6

  Cam

  Mollie storms out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Unfuckingbelievable. How did I not notice it before? I think back to the few times I ran into her, and she always had a jacket or a loose shirt to camouflage her stomach. I think about how she always seemed to position her purse in front of her, and how she reacted the way she did in the lobby.

  But why? Why did she care what I thought?

  Mollie’s friend comes barreling down
the stairs after her and stops in front of me.

  “You and Mollie hooked up like four months ago, right?”

  I nod my confirmation, as a sinking feeling hits my gut.

  “Weird, because she’s four months pregnant,” she says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Do the math, asshole. It’s yours.”

  I stand here, feeling the color drain from my face. And then she’s shoving past me, too, shoulder checking me on her way out.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The condom. It slipped off inside her, but she said she was on birth control. I remember asking, specifically. And she’s just now telling me? How long would she have waited if I hadn’t found out inadvertently? We never exchanged numbers, but she knows my name. She clearly knows my fucking friends. Tracking me down would be a no-brainer. Would she have told me at all? Would I ever know that I fathered a child? Is this even my kid? So many thoughts bombard me at once, and I drop down onto the bottom step, holding my head in my hands.

  I hear someone coming down the stairs a moment later, and then Cord plops down next to me.

  “Was she telling the truth?” he asks, probably having eavesdropped on the whole thing.

  I blow out a breath, scrubbing a hand over my stubble. “I think so,” I admit. I can’t be sure, and I barely know the girl, but my gut tells me she wouldn’t lie about something like that.

  “Then, what the fuck are you doing? Go,” Cordell says, jerking his chin toward the front door. Fuck. He’s right. At the very least, we need to talk.

  “You good?” I ask as I stand.

  “I’ll get a ride back. I might even crash here tonight.”

  I give him a nod, retrieve my forgotten keys from the floor, and then I’m hauling ass through the snow back to The Pines.

  After asking my friend, who happened to be working the front desk, which room Mollie was in, I dart over to the elevator, not wanting to miss it—it’s the kind that you don’t see for ten minutes once it’s gone—and my snow-slick boots slip against the hardwood flooring. I flail for a second, but I end up being able to catch my balance. The elevator went up without me, though, so I do what any normal person would do.

 

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