Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,97

And you’re going to law school, right? You’re going to be a lawyer?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I read on your Facebook page you’re going to work for a federal judge when you graduate. That’s a big deal, right? That sounds like a really good job.”

“I hope so,” I said. “I don’t have the job yet. I still have to graduate. Pass the bar exam and then he has to choose me.”

I had a mountain of pressure already. My glance darted to the baby again and my throat went dry.

“That sounds good, Sawyer,” Molly said. “You seem like you’re really doing well.”

“I’m doing okay.” I heaved a breath. “Molly…?”

“Her name is Olivia,” she said, shifting the baby. “That’s a good name, right? I wanted one that sounded…smart. Like you.”

My stomach was tied in the tightest of knots and my legs were itching to run out the door and not look back… Instead, I sank down on the bed beside Molly, like a magnet, drawn to the bundle in her arms.

“Olivia,” I murmured.

“Yes. And she is smart. Advanced. She can already hold her head up and everything.”

Molly pulled the blanket from the baby’s face and my damn breath caught in my throat. I saw a rounded cheek, tiny, pouty little lips, and eyes squeezed shut. Molly’s breath was tinged with booze, same as mine from the ‘special punch’ one of my roommates had made. But Olivia smelled clean, like talcum powder and some unidentifiable sweet smell that was probably reserved for babies.

“She’s pretty, right?” Molly said, glancing at me nervously. “She looks just like you.”

“Just like me...”

Outside my door, the party was blaring but muted. Young people laughing and drinking and probably hooking up…just as I had thirteen months ago.

“Are you sure she’s…?” I couldn’t say the word.

Molly’s head jerked in a fast nod. “She’s yours. One hundred percent.” She bit her lip. “Do you want to hold her?”

Fuck no!

My arms fell open and Molly put the baby in them.

I stared down at Olivia, willing her little features to become recognizable. A clue or hereditary whisper that she really was mine. But she looked nothing like Molly or me. She was just a baby.

My baby?

Molly sniffed and I looked up to see her smiling at Olivia and me. “You’re a natural,” she said softly. “I knew you would be.”

I stared down at the baby and swallowed a jagged lump of every emotion known to man.

“H-how old is she?”

“Three months,” Molly said. She nudged my arm with her elbow. “Remember that night? Pretty wild, right?”

My head shot up. “You told me you were on the pill.”

She flinched and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I was. It didn’t work. That happens sometimes.”

I stared, incredulous, and then my gaze dropped back down to the baby in my arms. She stirred in her sleep, her little fist brushing her own chin. One half of the impenetrable confines of my heart battened down like a storm was coming, shoring up defenses, building walls because this can’t be happening. The other half marveled at this baby’s tiny movements like they were minor miracles. I felt like laughing, crying, or screaming all at once.

“I almost didn’t come here,” Molly was saying. “I just wanted you to meet her and so…here we are.”

“Are you in the city? Do you have a place…?”

I wondered if Molly needed to move in with me, and the reality of the situation was like a bucket of ice water. I still had another nine months of law school. I had the bar exam to take and pass—the first time—if I had any prayer of getting the clerkship with Judge Miller. The clerkship was my ticket to my dream career as a federal prosecutor.

“What the hell, Molly. I can’t…I can’t have a baby,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m twenty-three fucking years old.”

Molly sniffed. “Oh really?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can have a baby, Sawyer. If you can fuck, you can have a baby. So that’s what we did and that’s what we have.”

I gritted my teeth and spat each word slowly. “You told me you were on the pill…”

She stared back and I knew it was useless. Saying those words over and over wasn’t going to make the baby in my arms magically evaporate. The pill may have failed or Molly may have been lying about taking them, but in the bleary, booze-soaked memories of that night, there had been one second where I told myself to put on a