Nice job, douche. You’re getting exactly what you wanted. A part of me wants to punch my freshman self in the face for being such a dumbass.
I consider our earlier conversation when she mentioned following our game schedule and realize she probably follows because Ben plays.
My chubby instantly deflates when she places Poppy in my arms.
Yeah, awkward.
Having a kid is definitely going to cut into my sex life. Not that I’ve had much of one lately. I’m relieved I cut ties with Miranda when I did. Shit with her had been going downhill all semester.
What would Mira do in this situation? Would she have Gabby’s patience and understanding?
I almost laugh. Probably not.
Miranda’s still blowing up my phone, but at least she hasn’t come around in a while, which is a relief.
I look up and find Gabby staring at me with a soft look in her eyes. This girl has been so patient with me.
It shames me to consider how she’s been a really good friend to me even though I’ve been an asshole. Even if she’s doing this out of love for Poppy, I don’t know many people who would run over in their pajamas in the middle of the night to help like this. To party? For booze or drugs? For sex? Yes, yes, and yes. To help out with a kid, not on your life.
“How are you so good with babies?” I whisper over Poppy’s head. “How do you know what to do?”
She fiddles with the ends of her hair. “Had a lot of practice. My aunt had two kids while I was living with her, and she got overwhelmed easily.” She shrugs. “I just hate seeing little ones distressed.”
Gabby is going to be an amazing mother someday.
I almost open my mouth to say it, but she points to the door. “I’d better get going. You going to be okay?”
“I’m afraid to answer that question.”
We smile at each other. Her hazel eyes are so light, they’re almost golden. They’re mesmerizing.
She clears her throat. “Where’s your phone? You can call or text if you run into trouble again.”
I point to my desk, so grateful to have this woman in my corner. “You’re such a lifesaver. Thank you.”
But when she turns back to me, her smile is gone. She drops the phone in my hand and disappears so fast, I wonder if I said something wrong.
Frowning, I look down at my cell. The screen lights up with a million messages. Not unusual for a Friday night before a big game, but the top one is from Miranda. And it reads, Miss you, baby. Let’s fuck later. I know you wanna.
Damn it. That’s not what I want Gabby seeing.
But…
I pause.
It makes me wonder.
If it did upset her, then maybe she does care. Maybe she is interested after all.
And that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
21
GABBY
Sienna groans with delight as she bites into her second empanada. “These are so damn good, girl.”
“Thank you.” Even though I don’t bake as much for Rise ’N Grind because I’ve been so busy, I still try to whip up some goodies at home when I get a chance.
I just found out that Fanny wants to pay me a license for my recipes since so many people still ask for my pan dulce. That way she can also offer them at her new Austin bakery as well.
Once I’ve plied Sienna and Ramona with baked goods, I break out the forms.
Sienna signs the NDA with a huff and crosses her arms. “Does this mean you’ll tell us what’s going on now? I swear you’re like living with the FBI.”
She glances at Ramona, who is sporting her typical bored expression even though she signed as well.
“I couldn’t say anything earlier.” I pick up Poppy from her car seat, cradle her in my arms, and offer her a bottle. “But this is Rider’s daughter, and I’m helping out a bit.”
“What? How?”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Do we need a birds-and-bees explanation? I thought you said you spent the last weekend boning a football player?”
She snorts. “I’ll be surprised if he can run down the field today after all that sex. But seriously. When did this happen?”
I give my roommates the abbreviated version, meaning I skip the part about not knowing who the father was initially and the paternity tests and not knowing who the mother is. Just that she’s not in the picture and he needs help.
Sienna’s eyes narrow. “I thought you hated Rider.”