Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Secret’s safe with me,” I assure her, in case that’s what she’s worried about. “If you told me the father’s name, I probably wouldn’t even recognize it. I’m not the biggest basketball fan.”
“Really? God, I love it. I actually played back in college.”
My brows shoot up. “Dang, then that baby really is going to be a basketball star.”
She laughs then winces again, pressing on the top of her stomach where the baby must be kicking. “That is if I survive the rest of this pregnancy.”
“How far along are you?”
“Seven months, though it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. I actually didn’t know about it until well into the second trimester.”
I lean in. “Really?”
She shrugs. “I didn’t have any symptoms. It wasn’t until I went in for my annual and they did a pregnancy test that I found out.”
“No way.”
She nods, and her expression looks as if she still can’t believe it herself.
“He’s paying me back for it though. The first few months were easy, but these last ones are going to be hell. He was already huge on the last ultrasound I had. Doctor warned he could be close to ten pounds by my due date.”
My jaw drops.
“And don’t even get me started on the heartburn.”
My eyes widen, and she cracks up.
“I’m terrifying you, aren’t I?”
“Only a little…”
She shakes her head playfully and reaches for her menu. “Ignore me. It’s really not that bad. The baby is the easy part compared to his father. How are your pancakes here?”
“Delicious. Get them with the whipped cream.”
She slaps the menu back onto the counter and wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Yes. That. Bring me a big stack please.”
I chuckle as I write down the order so I can pass it back for Cook. After, I do a quick pass around the diner, making sure everyone’s got what they need. I refill waters and coffees and clear a table. When I’m done, I return to the woman and ask if she’s still doing okay.
“Oh, fine. Yeah.”
She smiles tightly and puts down her phone. She must not have been enjoying whatever she was looking at.
I wonder if it has something to do with the guy she’s here for. I tip my head and study her. “Earlier, you mentioned the baby is the easy part compared to his father?”
She frowns in confusion, then it clicks for her. “Oh right. Yeah. He’s…we’re…”
She trails off, and I throw her a bone. “Sounds complicated.”
She hums. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s fine. It’ll shake out eventually. Somehow.”
I lean in closer, careful no one else can hear us. “I actually know some of the guys. They come in here and eat. I’ve become friends with Leanna, too—do you know her?”
Her eyes light up. “Leanna? Yes. She’s a sweetheart. I didn’t realize she was here in Texas with Trey. I would have asked her to breakfast.”
“You might still see her. She comes in most days to hang out while Trey is busy.”
She nods and grabs her juice, taking a small sip.
Then her eyebrows pinch together as if she’s mulling something over. Finally, she sets her juice down and looks up to ask me gently, “Has Ben come in to eat?”
“Oh.”
I wasn’t expecting her to ask about him directly. I haven’t had to outright lie to anyone about our relationship yet, and I don’t have a ready-made explanation on the tip of my tongue.
She misunderstands my delay though.
“I guess you might not know his name if you aren’t a big basketball fan. He’s one of the only white guys on the team though. Tall, obviously. Brown hair?”
I swallow and nod. “Yeah. He’s been in once or twice.”
“So then you’ve met him.”
Maybe I’m a little groggy this morning. I didn’t sleep well last night. I can’t seem to understand what she’s trying to tell me.
“Met him?” I repeat, trying to get the pieces to fall into place.
“The baby’s father.”
“Ben Castillo?”
She nods. “So then you do know him?”
My gaze loses focus as the revelation floods my mind. Betrayal and deceit rush in, drowning me from the inside, and I can’t breathe.
“Are you okay?”
Her voice sounds miles away, and I can only nod as I turn away from the counter and stumble toward the bathroom.
Her hand shoots out to grab on to my forearm, and it’s as searing as a branding iron.
“Please don’t say anything to the press. I mean, you seem trustworthy enough, but I really didn’t mean to share this much, and you have to understand…he’s pretty famous. If word got out…” She shudders at the thought.
“I…” I clear my throat. “I won’t.”
Then I shake her hand off me and continue to the bathroom. I have no recollection of getting from my spot behind the counter to the inside of a stall, but I slide down onto the toilet seat and drop my head into my hands, stifling my sobs. Tears pour down, never-ending and painful. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t begin to process how this could have happened.