The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,66

sit; instead she paces back and forth in front of me. “I’m pregnant.”

I smile. “I know.”

“It’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

She shoots me a look that would have lesser men withering. She walks to the other side of the coffee table. Spinning toward me, hands on hips, she exhales, “Okay, so, I’ve been thinking about this all day. I’m going to have the baby.”

“Good.”

“And I want you to know that I’ve got this.”

“I trust you,” I say, wondering if this is what she’s after. Does she think that I don’t know that she’ll take good care of our baby? That she won’t put the baby’s needs ahead of her own?

“And I didn’t plan this.”

I rear back. I’d never think she deliberately tried to get pregnant. “I know that.”

“Good. Okay.” She nods, resuming her pacing. “Of course, you can be involved in the baby’s life but I’m not saddling you with any expectations or responsibilities or—”

“What?” I snap. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She sighs, as if I’ve somehow inconvenienced her and I lean forward on the couch, staring at her. “Noah, I’ve worked my ass off for my career.”

“So have I,” I manage evenly, not liking where this conversation is headed.

“Well, I’m not going to drop my whole life, my career, to follow you from city to city while you play hockey.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Right. Okay, good. Well, you’re going to be gone for a third of the year. Plus all the training camps and fundraisers and events. So, while you’re off doing your thing, the baby and I will be here doing ours and I need to figure it all out so our lives will run smoothly when you’re not here to help.”

Anger begins to simmer in my veins at her tone. At her implications. Does she think I’m just going to abandon her and the baby, run off and play hockey, as if they don’t matter? As if they don’t even exist? “What are you trying to say, Indy?”

“I’m not trying to say anything. I am saying that I’m making a plan for when the baby comes. I will sort out childcare and a schedule. I’ll make a plan for night feedings and how to manage all the doctor appointments. I want you to know that I got this. One hundred percent. Obviously, my parents will help. And that, I’m not asking you for anything, okay? I don’t need your money.”

I sneer.

“Or your guilt.”

“Guilt?” I stand to my feet. “Where is this coming from?”

She waves a hand at my frame. “This. I don’t need the added stress of this. I just wanted to let you know.”

“That’s it?” I chuckle but it’s hard, condescending. “You just want to tell that you’re pregnant and now I can go on my merry way?”

She shrugs. “It’s not like we’re together, Noah.”

“I know that, Indy.”

“I mean, at your insistence, I have a dinner date with Aiden on Saturday.” She widens her eyes at me.

I pause, glaring at her. “You’re still going?”

She stares at me, incredulous and burning with frustration. “Did you think I was going to just stop having a life because I’m having a baby? What? Do you want me to throw away my career? Toss out opportunities to be in a stable relationship and create a home, a family, for my baby so I can watch you flirt with puck bunnies?”

“What are you even talking about?” I explode. Flirt with puck bunnies? Throw away her career? A fucking date with Aiden? “You’re not making any sense, Indiana.” I sit back down and gesture to the spot beside me, trying to stay calm, when inside, I can hear my goddamn pulse in my eardrums. She thinks I’d abandon her.

And is she fucking kidding me? Create a family with another man to raise my kid?

“I’m making plenty of sense,” she throws back, walking around the coffee table again. “I’m having a baby and I’m making a plan. I’m being responsible.”

My mouth drops open and I shake my head at the fury in her voice.

“Indy, this happened, okay? It’s no one’s fault.”

Her eyes tear up as she glares at me but I can’t tell if they’re in anger or sadness or…pure frustration. “I know that, Noah. I just, I need you to understand how this is going to go.”

I lean back, folding my arms over my chest and flip my chin at her. “Okay. How’s it going to go?”

She stops moving and faces me head-on. This time, when