by D. M. Davis
“What’s wrong, Frankie?” Patrick touches my arm. “Why the hand over your mouth?”
“Not feeling well,” I manage around my hand, but regret it when another wave of nausea hits with the stench of their close proximity.
The aroma of sweaty men never bothered me before. I usually find it rather calming as it means I’m in the presence of athletes in peak condition, pursuing their dreams and overcoming challenges. It can be exhilarating on the skin of a guy I’m attracted to, an aphrodisiac even, like it’s proof of his masculinity.
But today, it’s like skunk spray. My eyes water, and I spin away from them, running for the trashcan I spot in the corner. My stomach lurches, sending my lunch the wrong direction. Kneeling, I barely make it before it all comes out in hideous retching, leaving me gagging and gasping for air.
“Fuck.” Rowdy’s voice comes from behind seconds before hands grip my hair, holding it out of the way. “Get a wet towel and some water,” he barks in true Gabriel-like alpha fashion. “Breathe, Frankie.” He pats my back lightly as he soothes with calming words my stomach refuses to hear.
Embarrassed, with the contents of my stomach expelled into the trash can, I sit back on my heels, my eyes still closed as I catch my breath.
“Here.” Rowdy hands me a wet towel.
The cool towel feels amazing on my face. I exhale a few more times before I wipe my face and dare to open my eyes. The trash can has been removed and replaced by a clean one. I glance around and watch Cap tie the used trash bag closed before placing it inside a larger container.
“Are you done?” Rowdy’s concerned face comes into view at my side. He knows by experience my trip to worship the porcelain god can involve multiple waves of upchucks.
“I think so.” I take the water someone else offers and avoid all eyes except Rowdy’s. “I’m so embarrassed. But the smell…”
He chuckles. “You guys hear that? Your stench made her sick.”
The number of grumbles and remarks from behind me tell me I didn’t escape an audience, and my embarrassment is not yet over.
“Mint?” I ask Rowdy, but a hand from my other side has me looking into the face of a scowling Cap as he hands me a peppermint, already unwrapped. He keeps a stash in his pocket at all times. I should have remembered. “Thanks.” I slip it in my mouth, sucking and moving it around, the smell and taste a sweet relief.
I reach for Rowdy. “Help me up?”
“You sure?”
A nod from me has two sets of hands, Rowdy and Cap’s, helping me up, not letting go until I’m steady on my feet. Reluctantly, I turn, facing my audience of concerned fighters. “Show’s over.” I fake a smile and hope they let it go.
A mix of scowls and frowns mars their faces as all eyes land on me, then slowly move down my body to still on my middle section. I quickly remove my hand. I hadn’t noticed it was cradling my abdomen. Shit.
“Fuck.”
“Oh my God.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“No way.”
Their reactions hit me all at once. I don’t know who said what, but it’s clear they have no doubt I’m with child.
“Frankie?” Caps voice pulls my eyes to his. The concern and hurt there has my vision blurring and my hand reaching for Rowdy’s in support.
He clasps my hand and leans down. “Maybe we should take this to a more private location.”
I shake my head. This needs to be addressed now. I can’t have any of them running to tell Gabriel. I focus on Cap. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.” My eyes scan the guys: Sloan, Patrick, Walker, Jess. “I didn’t want to have to ask you to lie for me.” I wobble on my feet, and before I know it, I’m swept up in Cap’s arms and set down on the nearest bench.
“He has a right to know,” Cap whispers for only my ears before he pulls away. “It’s Gabriel’s, right?”
Nodding, I catch each of their gazes as they near. Cap and Rowdy sit on either side of me, holding my hands.
Sloan pops open a lemonade Gatorade and hands it to me. “How far along are you?”
I take a drink and close my eyes while I wait for it to settle. When it does, I open my eyes to them kneeling and sitting in front of me, having moved in closer for a family powwow. “Twelve weeks,” I admit.
Walker eyes Rowdy’s hand on my knee. “Gabriel doesn’t know?”
“No. And you can’t tell him,” I implore each of them, stopping on Cap. “He only has a few weeks before his fight. I’ll tell him afterwards. Telling him now would just be cruel.” I look back to each of them. “Promise me you won’t tell him. This is my secret to tell. Not yours.”
They nod, but it’s not enough. I take each of them by the hand and make them promise on my unborn baby they won’t tell Gabriel, or anyone else. They all promise and seem more concerned about me than keeping this secret from Gabriel. I let out a relieved breath until I realize Cap hasn’t said a word or made me any such promise.
Stepping to him, he pats my shoulder. “I promise.” Then he walks away, his disappointment trailing behind him.
We leave the guys in the gym, fumbling to clear their heads so they can get back to training. Inside my office, before I sit, I grab my spare toothbrush and toothpaste and brush my teeth, rinsing more times than needed.
When I finish, I plop down on the couch in my office with Rowdy pacing in front of me. “Considering all things, I think that went pretty well.” I leave out my concern for Cap. I know I hurt his feelings. I should have told him. I was afraid of disappointing him. As it turns out, I did it anyway.
“Mm-hmm.” Rowdy’s hands are in his hair, messing up his man bun. Laidback Rowdy is usually the calm one unless he’s seeing red, ready to fight.
“What’s wrong?”
He stops, his eyes locking with mine, sad and full of something I can’t put my finger on. “I like you.”
My brows shoot up. “I like you too.”
He nods. “I think if we decided to, we could even love each other.”
“I already love you, Darkboy. You get me in ways no one else does.”
His megawatt dimpled smile loosens the knot in my gut. “Ditto.” He takes a seat next to me, gripping my hands in his. “But that’s not the kind of love I’m talking about.” He worries his lip while his thumbs run back and forth over the back of my hands. “Marry me, Frankie.” He drops to his knees on the floor before me.
“What—”
“Marry me. I’ll love your baby like it’s my own. We could be good together.” He sweeps his hand across my cheek. His eyes fill with a heat I’ve only seen a few times from him. “Real good, darlin’.”
What he says is probably true. We could make it work, and it might be good. We get along. We click, understanding each other in a deeper way than most. The idea of loving him or being loved by him doesn’t turn me off. Though I’ve put him clearly in the friend zone, I’m not oblivious or unaffected by his charms. I am attracted to him. But could I do that to him? Could I do this to Gabriel without even giving him a chance?
I stand and step around him. “I… I appreciate—”
“Don’t say no.” He stands, stalking me to the wall. His hand rests above my head as he leans in. “Think about it.” His other hand squeezes my waist, and my breath catches. His eyes land on my parted lips. He’s gone alpha on me, and my ignored libido takes notice, sending alerting shivers down my spine. His eyes slide to my thrumming pulse-point on my neck before he whispers across my skin in the same place, “I could love you so good, Frankie. Make you come in ways you’ve never dreamt of.”
Oh, shit. My pregnancy hormones have my body screaming, yes, please, as my heart cries, wanting to know why it’s not Gabriel here saying these things to me.
Rowdy presses his mouth to my throbbing pulse, licking and sucking gently. I brace my palms against the wall, refusing to give in, refusing to pull him toward me. But when he kisses a trail up my neck to my ear and across my jaw, pausing momentarily to catch my eyes before his mouth covers
mine, I lose my battle and sink my fingers into his hair, moaning my approval and begging for more with the press of my body to his.
He’s not the man I love, but the man I love chose not to fight for us.
Delving in deeper, Rowdy’s tongue caresses mine, his arms ensconcing me in his embrace as his hands knead and urge me closer. His moans mix with mine. Urgent and needy hands roam until he slows with tender, light kisses and gentle caresses at my sides. “Yeah, so fucking good, darlin’.”
He pulls back, hands on my hips to keep me on my feet. “Think about it.” He kisses my cheek and leaves me breathing heavily, clutching my belly like I can protect my baby from my confused, racing thoughts of Rowdy’s promises of family amongst Gabriel’s echoed promises of nothing more than sex and shelter.
A love that rocks the universe but has no future?
Or a love that rocks my baby as a surrogate father and could probably make me happy?
Yeah, I’m screwed and confused as hell.
My emergency call to Emerson has her dropping off Gwen with Grant’s mom and rushing to meet me. Her guys keep Wings Out running without her having to be there full-time since Gwen was born. Luckily, I caught her on a day off, but not too early to mess up her mommy-daughter time.
Like a chicken shit, I’m avoiding Cap and Rowdy, leaving early with the excuse my pregnancy grants me. Of course, I don’t actually tell them in person. No, that would make me less of a chicken. I sneak out the back and walk around the building to my car, pull out of the parking lot in blazing glory. Yeah, that won’t get anybody’s attention! Then stop at the corner market to blast a text to each of them with my excuse—the same excuse—knowing Darkboy will probably head home to check on me only to not find me there. I can’t very well tell him I’m not feeling well and leaving work to then meet Emmy for an early dinner and girl time.
I hate lying. I make a habit of not doing it. I’ve been lied to enough to last me a lifetime and then some. I’ll make it up to them. I don’t know how… Yet.
As expected, I beat Emmy to the new wine bistro. Though I can’t drink, I can appreciate the ambiance. But mostly, I appreciate the secluded rooms they have in the back, sequestered by partitioned walls and sliding doors, reminding me a little of a Japanese Minka-style home, though the walls are not thin like those in a traditional Japanese home. The rooms aren’t overly large, at least not the ones I’ve seen, but big enough for a rounded booth and a sitting area for lounging in privacy.
Leaving Emmy’s name up front, I slip into the designated room with a request not to be bothered until she arrives. I sit in the booth, drumming my fingers on the mahogany-topped table, fidgeting with nervous energy. My stomach rumbles, amazingly bold enough to ask for food after its mass exodus only a few hours ago. The nerve!
Giving up on the booth, I try for the couch, then the chair. Determining sitting may not be the best state to force myself into, I opt for pacing from one end of the sectioned-off room to the other. I shake my hands and blow out puffs of air, trying to calm my heart and racing thoughts.
Rowdy proposed to me!
He kissed me!
Holy moly, what a kiss.
“Stop.” I cover my eyes. What a freakin’ mess!
“It’s not good if you’ve taken to pacing and talking to yourself.” Emmy’s compassionate smile greets me as I take in her t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts, looking more like a hot teenager than a momma.
My lip trembles with relief at the sight of her. “No, not good at all.”
Hugs and a few tears later, we’re sitting on the couch facing each other. She has a glass of red, and I have an iced tea with extra lemon and no artificial sweetener.
“First things first.” She eyes my glass. “Why am I the only one drinking? I thought this was an emergency calling for commiserating over libations.”
“It does. Only…”
Her gaze flits to my growling stomach and back to me. “Only?”
I set my tea on the coffee table and scoot to the edge of the cushion, ready for a quick departure if her reaction to keeping this secret from her turns bad. Which I fear is the only way it can go. “Let me preface this by saying I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to put you or Grant in a tough spot by keeping a secret from Gabriel.”
Her brow puckers, and she takes a drink of her wine. Setting it aside, she mimics my position on the couch. “Noted. There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me have to take sides between you two. Except maybe—”
“I’m pregnant.”
“—that! Oh…” She stands and walks away and then back to me. She takes a deep breath, visibly shaken by my news. “To be clear: you’re pregnant with Gabriel’s baby?”
“Yes! Who else’s would it be?”
“Rowdy’s?”
“No! We aren’t… We haven’t… It’s not like that,” I settle on, finally finding the thought I need to convey.
“And it’s not Austin’s?”
I rear back. “God, no. But he did knock up the woman he cheated with.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he told me the day I fell down the stairs. It might be why I fell down the stairs. I was pretty messed up. Not because I wanted him back, but because he was living our future with someone else. It’s a hard blow to take.” I sit back. “Turns out I was pregnant too. I just didn’t know it.”
Contemplative, she sits next to me, leaning back. “Wow. Give me a sec. It’s a shocker.” She takes a large gulp of her wine. “You sure you don’t want a sip?”
I drank too much when I was first pregnant, not knowing I was. I have no intention of having another drink while this precious one is still inside me. “I’m sure. But I could eat.” I rub my stomach as it rumbles in response.
She smiles. “Obviously.”
We order food as she processes my news. Once the waitress leaves, I turn to Emmy. “I feel I should get all the news out, give you a chance to digest it all at once instead of hitting you over the head again and again.”
“Whoa, that bad, huh?”
“Maybe not bad, but shocking.”
She sits up, bracing herself. “Go for it.”
“Well, first Cap and the guys found out today. Not by choice, I kinda got sick in front of all of them, and, well, they figured it out. They promised not to tell Gabriel. Cap too, but he’s upset with me for keeping it from him. Understandably.”
“Cap will forgive you. He needs time to process.” She pats my leg. “Do you plan on telling Gabriel?”
“Of course, but not until after his fight. He’s made it clear he doesn’t want kids. I wouldn’t feel right keeping it from him, but there’s no reason to sidetrack his focus when he’s so close to his goal.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “I can see why you wanted to keep this to yourself.” She grips my hand, leaning into me, shoulder to shoulder. “I hate that you’ve been going through this on your own.”
“Not entirely on my own,” I admit.
“Oh?”
Please don’t be hurt. “Rowdy figured it out pretty quickly. When he asked, I couldn’t lie to him. He’s been my rock.”
Her eyes lower, and she bites her lower lip. “I’m glad.” She sounds anything but happy about it.
“I’m sorry. I really did want to tell you.”
She nods, repeatedly. She’s got my bobblehead impression down. “I know.” She swipes at the corner of her eyes. “I get it.” She locks eyes with me. “I really do. I’m just sad I couldn’t be there for you. Not hurt you didn’t tell me.”
Thank God!
“So, the shocker…”
“Besides being preggo?” She eyes me expectantly.
“Yeah, besides that.” I grip her hand, linking our fingers. “Rowdy asked me to marry him.”
“What?!” She squeezes my hand so hard I struggle to get free.
“I know, right? Totally out of left field.” Her silence has me turning to face her. “Right?”
“Not really. It’s o
bvious you’re good friends. He cares for you.” She shrugs. “It’s not a big leap to see you guys going from friendship to… More.”
“But we aren’t more.”
“But you could be.”
I blow out a punch of air, my lips vibrating in the process, as I sink down on the couch. “He kissed me.” He did more than kiss me. He turned me on.
“And?”
“It was hot.” Really hot.
“But?”
“But he’s not Gabriel. He’ll never be Gabriel. And I’m not ready to give up on the idea of there being an us. At least not until he closes the door permanently, after I tell him about the baby.”
“In the meantime?”
“In the meantime, I tell Darkboy no. I can’t ask him to give up his future for me and my baby. Even if Gabriel wants nothing to do with us. I have to believe there’s someone out there who wants me for me and not out of obligation or sacrifice.” I lay my head in Emmy’s lap, and she strokes my hair. “Besides, Rowdy deserves a girl who fell in love with him from the get-go. Not someone who has to learn to love him. He might turn me on, but at this point—” I rub my belly, “—this little one is making my hormones so crazy, I think a stiff breeze could get me off.”
“God, I remember those days.” She wags her brows. “Some of the best times too. Grant can’t wait to knock me up again just for the hot pregnancy sex.”
“Please.” I brush her off. “You guys do it like rabbits as it is.”
“Yeah, but a pregnancy orgasm—or should I say orgasms—is not to be missed.” She sighs at the thought. Her hand rests on my baby bump that’s becoming more prominent every day. “You need to get yourself a toy, or hit Rowdy up for some pregnancy sex. You may not want to marry him, but you two could enjoy the rest of your pregnancy like nobody’s business.”
“I think sex would take our friendship way past the friendship zone. A kiss we can come back from, but fucking like monkeys, probably not.”
“I see your point.”
A knock at the sliding door brings me to a sitting position as our food is placed on the table.
“If we can’t get you laid, we can at least feed you and satiate one need.”
