The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,68
the energy to clue him in. Right now, I’m tired. Emotionally drained and physically ill. I feel like I could cry at any second, which pisses me off and makes the tears swell stronger.
I drop my head to the cold glass of the window and watch the snow swirl outside.
“Indy?” Aiden’s voice is soft. His hand finds mine and he squeezes my fingers. “Is this sass because of a guy issue or a work-related tiff? Or is it something deeper?”
I glance at him and his eyes pierce mine, filled with concern.
“You hurt, Indy girl?” he asks and I don’t miss the break in his voice.
Aiden has been my go-to guy for forever. Even when we were awkward preteens and the usual puberty shit blew up between us, we managed to wade through it. But I don’t know how to tell him this. I don’t know how to tell anyone other than Claire because, no judgement, and Noah, because hey, he’s the dad.
And look how freaking awful that turned out.
“Do you need help?” Aiden continues, the pressure of his grip increasing. His laughter from earlier has faded and now a severity I’m unfamiliar with lines his usually amiable face.
“Can we talk at The Ivy?” I ask in a small voice. I hate how unsure I sound. I hate how unconfident I feel.
“Of course, babe.” Aiden gives one last squeeze before dropping my hand. “We can do whatever you want.”
We drive the rest of the way in silence but once we’re seated in the ridiculously trendy restaurant and I pass on wine, Aiden knows something real is up.
“What’s going on?” he demands as soon as the server steps away with our drink orders.
I sigh, my best way to emote these days. My fingers fiddle with the edge of the linen napkin as I force myself to meet Aiden’s gaze. “I need you to stay calm, okay?”
I offer him a small smile to reassure both of us and whisper, “I’m pregnant.”
Aiden stares at me in shock for two blinks before he erupts in laughter.
Laughter!
He folds to the side and shakes his head, his loud chortle drawing looks from nearby patrons. “Christ, Indiana. That was good. That was good. You really had me going. My God, you haven’t put that much depth into a role since you played Scarlett O’Hara sophomore year at the—”
“I’m serious, Aid,” I cut him off, irritated that he’d think I’d make this up. That I’d just invent a baby.
He pinches the insides of his eyes, his laughter trailing off.
I clear my throat.
An awkward pause hovers over the table, only broken by the impeccable timing of our server. “Do you have any questions about the menu or are you all set to order?”
“We still need a few minutes,” Aiden replies, his eyes trained on me. Once she’s out of earshot, Aiden hisses, “You’re fucking serious?”
I nod, fisting the cloth napkin.
Aiden zeroes in on the movement and blows out a long exhale. “Who is he?”
“Who?” I ask.
“The father.” He gives me an impatient look. “I swear to God, Indiana, if some asshole left you high and dry, I will—”
“It’s Noah.”
“The hockey guy?”
I nod and Aiden gapes.
“Wait a second.” He holds up a hand. “Are you telling me that you and the hockey guy—”
“Noah.”
“Had a one-night stand and you invited him to your parents’ house for Thanksgiving?”
I clear my throat. “It wasn’t a one-night stand.”
“You’re dating him?”
“I wouldn’t say dating,” I backtrack.
“Indiana, stop being coy. What the hell is going on?” Aiden demands, some color returning to his face.
“We’ve been seeing each other. Casually,” I explain.
“How casual?”
I scrunch my nose. What kind of question is that? I err on the side of caution. “Medium.”
Aiden squints at me. “You don’t make any sense.”
“Neither do you.”
He shakes his head. “Why the hell did he give us his reservation? For a minute, it felt like he was trying to set us up. Wait a minute…” Aiden’s eyes widen. “Is he trying to pawn you and the baby off?”
“Thanks a lot,” I huff, now annoyed that Aiden thinks I am someone who can just be pawned off. With a child no less.
“Does he know about the baby?” Aiden wonders aloud.
“Did you have a chance to look over the menu?” The server returns.
I snort and Aiden glares, ordering us two steaks. “You can eat that, right?” he asks me and I nod. “I can’t believe we’re dining here and I