Part 32 (1/2)
Twenty-Seven.
Gray
”So,” I say to Drew. We're sitting at the bar, ginger ales in hand-Coach has set down a no-beers-from-this-point-on rule-and Drew's trying to be supportive. Good man.
”So,” Drew says back then takes a drink.
”Ivy's pregnant.”
It's almost worth my current anxiety to watch him choke and spew ginger ale all over the bar. The bartender gives him an annoyed look then walks over to wipe up the splatter with a rag.
”Baby steps, hon,” she mutters before leaving us.
I laugh into my gla.s.s.
Drew glares, but then his expression grows serious. ”s.h.i.+t, Gray-Gray. You're not joking, are you?”
”Nope.” I take another drink and concentrate on the feel of cold bubbles sliding down my throat.
”Holy h.e.l.l.” Drew braces his hands on the bar. ”What are you two going to do?”
”Don't know yet. Ivy's thinking things over.” I pick at the damp edge of my c.o.c.ktail napkin, ignoring Drew's stare. I don't want to see pity.
”You okay with... I mean if she decides to keep...” He trails off.
I finally look at him. ”If it were Anna? How would you feel?”
At this, Drew straightens. ”Scared, sure. But it's Anna. She's it for me, so I guess I'd be starting a family early.”
”Exactly. Ivy's my girl. She always will be.”
Drew really looks at me now. ”You're not freaking out.”
”Why does everyone a.s.sume I'd freak out?” I grumble. ”It's insulting.”
”h.e.l.l, I'd freak out.” He shrugs. ”And, well, you're...”
”What?” I'm quickly moving from insulted to p.i.s.sed.
”Come on, Gray. You've been Mr. Party, give-me-a-new-girl-a-night since I've met you. It's just a little shocking to see you not get spooked over something as big as this.”
Okay, he has me there. I take another sip of my soda. ”I'm a little unsettled, sure. What the h.e.l.l do I know about babies? I'm afraid I'd accidentally crush it in my big-a.s.s hands. But then I think of me and Ivy together, watching the little guy grow and...” I trail off and clear my throat. I've said too much anyway.
A slow, incredulous smile spreads over Drew's face. ”You want this baby, don't you?”
I s.h.i.+ft in my seat, resisting the urge to hunch. My cheeks are uncomfortably warm. And yet the corners of my mouth want to lift. ”Yeah, I think I do.”
It terrifies me. Nothing is settled, and suddenly all I can think about is the future, wanting a family, a life with Ivy. It's all dancing in front of me, as solid as smoke.
Ivy
”I'm beginning to think that life will never be one-hundred-percent perfect.” My head is in Fi's lap, and she's giving me random braids.
”Is this because you're gonna be Man Mountain's baby mama?”
”Jerk,” I mutter but glance up at her. ”But, yes. I mean, here I was, life plan finally making sense. I'm in love with the best guy in the world, and now...boom! Guess, what, genius, you're knocked up!”
Fi pulls up another section of hair to braid. ”Not to mention Dad is going to s.h.i.+t puppies when he finds out. Mom will probably bake a ten-tiered stress cake, then kick it.”
”Has anyone ever told you that you suck at commiserating?”
”You. Like, tons of times. Which makes me wonder why you keep talking to me.”
I frown but cuddle closer into her lap. ”Seriously, Fi, what am I going to do? It's all funny to call me a baby mama, but isn't that what I am? G.o.d, how many prenup contracts have we seen Dad draw up for this s.h.i.+t?” I laugh without humor before pressing my hand to my hot eyes. ”I'm a f.u.c.king cliche.”
”You are not! Gray is crazy about you. Do not put yourself in that category of sad female who tries to trap an athlete through pregnancy.”
”But people will think-”
”Whatever the f.u.c.k they want to think. Their opinion means d.i.c.k-all.”
We're both quiet. Despite my inner turmoil, I feel better. Fi is the comfort of my childhood and the one person, aside from Gray, who I can say anything to.
”Do you want this baby, Ivy?” Fi's voice is soft, almost hesitant.
”I think Gray does.”
”Really?” Fi makes a surprised chuckle. ”Huh.”
”He gets this look in his eyes. Like he's excited. Happy.” That look makes my insides melt and my hormones kick into high gear, and I have to fight not to cry. Even now my smile is wobbly. ”It's kind of cute.”
”And you?”