The Sweet Talker (Boston Hawks Hockey #1) - Gina Azzi Page 0,70
whatever you need, you know I’m always in your corner.”
“I know.”
“I just don’t want to be there when you tell Jemmy.” He points his fork at me and I snort.
“Nah, I better tell Mom and Dad with Noah, don’t you think?”
“I do.” Aiden cuts off a bite of steak and pops it into his mouth. He groans. “Jesus, Indy. Your man’s got good taste, though. This steak is delicious.”
“He’s not my man.”
Aiden picks up his wine glass and gestures it in my direction before taking a large gulp. “He will be.”
I frown.
“Trust me, Indiana. That man was trying to set you up with me.” He laughs again, shaking his head. “He cares about you a hell of a lot more than he let on and now that you’re knocked up—”
I wince.
Aiden’s smile grows larger. “Well, there’s no way he’s letting you go without a fight. And I happen to know that hockey guys, especially yours, can throw down when they need to.”
I roll my eyes but find myself grinning back at Aiden. “You really think I’ll be okay?”
“I know it.” He pushes my plate toward me. “Now eat. You need to keep your energy up. Plus, no offense, but you look like shit. Guess that glow hasn’t kicked in for you yet, huh?”
I flip him the finger and he laughs.
But when I take a bite of my delicious steak, I forgive Aiden. And Noah.
Because this food is amazing and right now, I don’t feel like puking my guts up, so life is suddenly good again.
28
Noah
“What are you doing?” my brother asks as wind whips around my head, traveling through the phone line.
“I’m pacing,” I snap, walking back and forth in front of the tenement building.
“Huh? You okay?”
“East, I gotta tell you something.”
“Okay,” my brother says slowly.
“Indy’s pregnant.”
Silence. Silence for two paces and then fucking joy. “Holy shit! Seriously? Congratulations, man! Wow. I’m going to be the best fucking uncle that kid could ever want. Damn, man. I wish I was there with you guys. How’s Indy doing? How’s she feeling?”
I blow out a sigh. “She’s avoiding me.”
“Wait, what?” I can hear the wheels turning in Easton’s head. “You pushed her away, didn’t you?”
“She’s on a date with Aiden.”
“Shut the hell up. Noah, why is your pregnant girlfriend on a date with another man at a restaurant that you got a reservation for? What the hell is going on? Jesus, I thought my life was fucked up…”
“Thanks,” I bite out, stopping to lean against a stop sign. The air is frigid cold and my toes are starting to go numb. Yet, an inferno of anger, pretty much one hundred percent of it at myself, pulses in my temples. “It’s on me. I fucking pushed her to go out with Aiden and then when she found out she was pregnant, she was probably alone.”
“Alone?”
“I was at the game.”
“Oh.”
“When we talked about it, she had everything mapped out. A whole fucking plan that barely included me. She told me she didn’t want to saddle me with anything. And of course I could be involved but pretty much on her terms. Oh, and she doesn’t want my money.”
Easton snorts. “So, basically, she’s telling you to fuck off while not really telling you to fuck off?”
“What do you mean not really? She’s pushing me right out the door.”
“Nah, man. If she was doing that, she might not even have told you. Or she would but not this early. Tell me, do her parents know?”
“Not yet…”
“See? You were still her first call. She’s probably scared, Noah. I mean, a baby is a big fucking deal. Everything you told me about you guys indicates things are a lot more serious than either of you let on.”
“True,” I agree, beginning my walk again.
“Then, you push her off and try to set her up on a date with another dude.”
“Biggest fucking mistake.” I plop down on the front steps of her building.
“Yeah man, but you need to prove to her that she can count on you. She’s not just thinking about herself now but about the baby too. If she feels like you’re going to get cold feet and try to push her away, why the hell should she let you in?”
I swear, pissed off that my brother grasped the heart of the issue faster than I did. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”
“I am,” he says with his usual self-assuredness. “Noah, get your girl. Talk to her.”