Serenading Heartbreak - Ella Fields Page 0,87

it’s my fault he’s probably been distracted.”

Hendrix scrubbed at his mouth. “Huh.”

I wasn’t expecting him to be happy about it, but it felt good to tell him the truth instead of hiding it for a change. “I’m not quite three months along yet, so…”

Hendrix nodded. “Yeah.” He nodded again. “Yeah, I won’t say shit. Mom and Dad know?”

I brushed my hands over my blue polka-dotted skirt. “Not yet. We’ve been trying to wrap our heads around it first.”

“What about school?” he asked. “You’re what, only halfway done?”

“Hendrix, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Remind you of the life this kid will be interrupting? The one my asshole friend keeps interrupting?”

I stared up at him, beseeching. “I’m happy. He makes me happy.”

Our gazes stayed locked a minute, and I almost lost the precarious hold on my emotions when his eyes misted. “’Kay, Steve.” A smile crawled into place as he walked over and chucked me under the chin, his guitar pick poking into my skin. “If you’re happy, I’ll try to ignore the bullshit and be happy too.”

“Thank you,” I croaked, rising and wrapping my arms around him, sneaking beneath his guitar.

His fingers glossed over my hair, and he whispered, “Just don’t let him treat you like shit, all right? Promise me.”

“I won’t, and he’s not. I promise.”

We stepped back, and he rammed his hands into his hair, pulling it in two different directions as he chuckled. “An uncle. Well, shit.”

“What’s happening?” Dale’s voice boomed into the room. “Let’s go already.”

I glanced over to see him flapping his hands in the window. “I guess he’s still taking his job as momager seriously?”

“Fucken’ oath, he is.” Hendrix flipped Dale off. “But in all honesty, we’d be worse off without him.”

“Agreed,” Everett said, entering the cavernous space and striding toward me.

“The only time I wanna see those flimsy ass fingers move is when you’re bent over your guitar, asshole. Time is money, and you’re all fucking wasting it.” A shriek from the speakers followed Dale’s shouted words, and I winced, rubbing my ear.

Everett took me by the waist, and I kissed his chest, whispering, “Hendrix knows. I told him.” Craning my neck back, I found his gaze riddled with questions, but I just smiled. “He’s okay. You need to go.” Looking like he was about to protest, I stabbed a finger at his chest. “I’ll be here, and I’ll be fine.”

He exhaled a frustrated breath but conceded and grabbed his guitar, which had been lying on the couch, before following Hendrix into the adjacent room.

I took a seat again, realizing I’d left my purse at work. But it didn’t matter.

When that recording light came on, I rested my head back against the couch and relaxed.

Walking through the shop and out into the darkening street, I checked my phone. A missed call from Aiden had my steps faltering as I neared my car.

I thought he would’ve left. But he’d tried to call at least every second day over the past few weeks and had even sent texts. I ignored them.

I didn’t want to dish out the same treatment he’d fed me, but things with Everett were good, and no matter how much I longed to speak to him, to just hear his voice and see how he was doing, regardless of what’d happened, I didn’t want to mess that up. We’d even scheduled my first sonogram for early next week.

I stared at his name a moment longer, then pushed the temptation away and drove home.

Pulling over outside the house, I grabbed my bag and jumped out, then almost screamed when I caught a dark figure standing near the hedges lining the walkway to my front door.

With a hand over my pattering chest, I murmured, “Aiden?”

“Figured the only way to get you to see me would be to wait for you at sunset like a true stalker.” His attempt at humor fell flat, and he raked a hand over his thick hair, which had grown out on top, but was cropped close to his scalp on the sides. “I’m sorry, Stevie.”

“I watched a couple of your games,” I said, for lack of anything else to say. “You’re doing great.”

“Was,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t know if I’m going back.”

My feet shifted, my keys digging into my palm. “You’re under contract. You have to.”

“My dad’s one of the best attorneys in the state. You think he’d let me sign something without an escape clause?” He chuckled. “Besides, some little blonde thing was taking up too much room in

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