One-Timer (Carolina Comets)

“He said what?”

“And I quote, Are you sure?”

“That asshole!” Emilia bursts out, slamming her hand on the table.

“I cannot believe he’d say that.” Ryan’s sitting with her mouth hanging open, staring at me like I’ve got two heads. It’s about how I felt last night when I heard it.

Harper’s the only one who hasn’t said a word, but I can see the way her jaw is clenched. She’s equally as upset as them, and I have no doubt she’s already determining how she’s going to get away with his murder.

I love their outrage for me, but it pretty much went down exactly like I was expecting it to. I mean, sure, I didn’t think Lowell would question whether the baby is actually his or would pretty much insinuate that I got pregnant on purpose to trap him, but I figured he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to be having a child with his one-night stand either.

God, the look on his face when I told him…there was such a mixture of emotions in such a short time. He looked terrified, which was no surprise. Then he looked like he might puke—again, no surprise there.

Then came the betrayal and disgust.

Those two hurt the most.

A waiter sets down a replacement basket of chips for us and drops off three margaritas. The four of us are currently sitting at a table outside a Mexican restaurant for lunch because I am a firm believer that there is nothing queso and tequila can’t fix. Since I can’t partake in the tequila myself, I’m leaving it to them to get drunk for me in solidarity with this hilariously bad time I’m having right now.

How did my life get so messed up in the last year?

“I hate him,” Emilia says, taking a sip of her margarita, shaking her head. “He’s always seemed like such a nice guy. I can’t believe he’d say that.”

“It’s fine.” I wave my hand. “It was just…shocking.”

“It’s not fine, Hollis,” she insists. “It’s far from fine. He’s the one who did this to you, and he needs to step up and take responsibility for it.”

“In case you forgot, I was an active participant in the whole ordeal.”

“Oh, I didn’t forget. I didn’t forget because I am dying to know how the sex was, but I’ve been too scared to ask you because I didn’t want you to burst into tears again.”

I steal a chip from the basket and throw it at her.

“Hey!” She tosses one back my way, missing me completely and hitting the person at the table behind us.

They don’t notice, and we all snicker at their obliviousness.

“I’m kind of curious too,” Ryan says, grabbing her own chip. “Lowell has always given off this intense sort of vibe. I wonder if that carries into the bedroom too.”

“I’m totally telling Rhodes you think about other dudes in the bedroom.”

Ryan glares at Harper. “You wouldn’t dare. He’ll—actually, you know what? Go ahead and tell him. I’ll take the punishment.” She pops the chip in her mouth, almost giddy at that thought.

“So, how was it?” Emilia asks again.

“How was what?” I feign ignorance, taking a sip of my water.

“The sex!” She shouts it just a little too loud, drawing stares from others at the tables next to ours. “You know, the sex you had with the hot-as-hell pro-hockey player. They’ve got stamina for days, you know.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” I toss back, and she flicks her eyes away, avoiding my gaze. Dammit. One of these days, I will get her to talk about it.

“I’m definitely speaking from experience when I say you heard right,” Ryan says.

“Can confirm,” Harper agrees.

“See? I was right. Tell us.”

“It was…” I lift a shoulder. “It was nice.”

“Nice? Nice? You got pregnant from nice sex? How boring.” Emilia pouts. “Never tell your child that.”

I laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be telling the tale of how my baby was conceived.”

“You never know. My mother told me once—in detail. Like way, way too much detail.” She shudders, then reaches for her drink again. “She was drunk, which is what I’m about to be.” She takes a healthy sip, then dips another chip in the queso. “Tell me or I’m going to throw this messy-as-hell chip at you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

She lifts it to chuck it my way, and I hold my hand up.

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell you. Put the weapon down.” I shake my head at her antics as she pops the chip into her mouth with a victorious grin. I glance around the table, and all of them are staring at me expectantly, apparently very invested in knowing how sex with Lowell was.

I don’t know what to tell them because I don’t know how to put it into words.

I don’t know how to tell them I’ve thought about it almost nonstop since it happened. I don’t know how to tell them it was the single most amazing experience of my life. How he laid me out across the bed and took his time stripping my dress from my body, then kissing every single inch of it, bringing me to orgasm twice before sliding into me and going for the hat trick. How he was gentle in the best ways and rough in all the even better ones.

And how the worst part is not even him being a giant asshole last night can taint it.

I don’t know how to say any of that, so I just say, “Better than anything I’ve ever had before.”

Not that I have much to compare it to. I’ve only had sex with three men in my life. One was my high school boyfriend, and that was over in about point two seconds. The other was Thad, and he was pretty much a one-trick pony…if you count just slamming into me in missionary to be a trick.

“You’re totally glowing just thinking about it.” Emilia grins, bouncing her brows up and down.

“I think that’s just part of being pregnant.”

“Or the sign of some really hot sex.” She frowns like she’s just remembered who that really hot sex was with. “I have half a mind to go to my uncle and tell him what a giant jerk Lowell is being. Have him mess with his equipment or something.”

“While I very much appreciate it, that’s not necessary.”

“I could have Rhodes accidentally cup-check him during practice,” Ryan offers.

I grin. “Again, thank you, but no.”

“You have to know Collin is going to murder him when he hears about this, don’t you?” Harper says.

“No, because you’re not telling him.”

“Hollis! You can’t be serious!”

“I am. I’m very serious. This whole…thing…it’s between me and Lowell and that’s it. I don’t need you ladies to deploy your men to fight my battles for me.” I look pointedly at Emilia because I don’t know exactly who her man is, but I don’t want her getting any ideas either. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll figure it out.”

Harper shakes her head, clearly upset with me. I’m upset with me too, especially for getting myself into this mess where the father of my baby thinks I’m just some puck bunny trying to trap him.

I have no idea what gave him the idea that that’s the type of person I am, but it really bothers me that he thinks I’m even remotely capable of doing something like that. It’s what kept me up half the night trying to figure it out.

Well, that and the urge to pee every damn hour.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Harper asks.

I groan. “Ugh. No, not yet. Mostly because I’m terrified she’s going to start apartment hunting out here the moment she finds out.”

“I’d be surprised if she already hasn’t started now that we both live here.”

I love my mother something fierce. She’s a good person with a really good heart, and Harper and I are her entire world.

But she can also be very…suffocating. She wasn’t always like that. Sure, she was a concerned mother and always wanted us girls to be careful, but it got worse after our father passed. Suddenly everywhere we went and everything we did was too dangerous. I bet if she could have gotten away with it, she would have wrapped us up in bubble wrap just to keep us from ever getting hurt again.

Keeping Harper and me safe and being overprotective is her way of coping with not just my father dying, but how he died—in a car accident on his way to see his mistress.

Up until that point, they’d had the perfect marriage. Sixteen years of bliss. Sixteen years of dancing in the kitchen to Frank Sinatra and lavish anniversary dinners. Sixteen years of good-morning kisses and never going to bed angry.

To say her heart broke in the worst kind of way when she discovered why he was out in the middle of a snowstorm would be an understatement. She wants to protect us from that same hurt.

I lay my hand over my still flat belly because, in a crazy sort of way, I kind of get it now. I haven’t even met my baby yet and I already have this intense urge to protect it at all costs. I can’t imagine how strong that feeling is going to be when they’re nearly thirty.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Emilia says. “Like baby names or something. I personally think Emilia is beautiful, but I could be incredibly biased on that.”

“You are,” Harper tells her. “But I think we can all agree that Harper is a beautiful name too.”

I look at Ryan. “Care to throw your own name in the ring too?”

“Nah. I’ll keep my name to myself, thanks. Though I do think you should name your baby something badass, like Buffy or Khaleesi.”

I wait for her to laugh, but she doesn’t.

“Oh, what about Katniss? Or Xena? You know, like the Warrior Princess. I got it!” Emilia snaps. “Alanis! Like Morissette. She’s like the crusher of men’s hopes and dreams and it’s amazing. Total angry-girl rock goddess.”

“That is… I’ll take that into consideration too.”

“What if it’s a boy?” Ryan points out.

“Thor. Definitely Thor,” Emilia says. “No, wait! What about Thanos? Wait—no. Thor is much better.”

Ryan and Emilia settle into a debate over names, but Harper doesn’t join in. Instead, she slips her hand into mine and squeezes it.

“Even if Lowell doesn’t come around, it’s obvious that baby Buffy Khaleesi Katniss Xena Alanis is going to be so loved.”

“Or Thor Thanos.”

She grins. “Or Thor Thanos.”

And for the first time since I took those tests, I don’t feel so alone.

I was right about my mother.

I hold my phone propped on my pillow and try not to sigh as she starts listing off all the apartments she’s been looking at nearby.

“And then there’s one that’s only about two miles up the road from you. They have a gorgeous garden I can picture enjoying my morning coffee in,” she says, flipping the phone—like literally the entire phone, not just the camera—to show me a distorted photo of said garden.

“Looks great, Mom, but don’t you think you’re jumping the gun here?”

She flips the phone back around and gives me a sharp glare. “Don’t take that tone with me, Hollis Pearl.”

I try not to cringe at the use of my middle name, which I loathe entirely. I make a promise to myself right then to not give my child an awful middle name.

“I’m going to be a grandmother. A grandmother, Hollis! Of course I’m going to want to be part of that child’s life, and I can’t really do that from the other side of the state, now can I?”

I want to point out that yes, she can, and I will make trips back and forth all the time, but I know no matter what I say, it won’t be enough. I may as well resign myself to the fact that my mother will be moving out this way with or without my approval. It’s only a matter of time now.

“I know, Mom, I just—” My words are cut off by a big yawn, and a frown tugs at her lips the moment my mouth opens.

“What’s wrong? Everything okay?”

I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Everything’s fine. I’m just tired, you know. Growing life and all that. I’m sure you remember what that’s like.”

“Oh, gosh, do I ever. You girls wore me out so badly before you were even born. Especially Harper because she was just so unpredictable.” A sweet smile tugs at her lips. “Forever marching to the beat of her own drum, that one.”

She’s right. Harper’s always been just who she is and has never apologized for it a day in her life. I’ve always admired that about her and wish I could say I’ve done the same, but I haven’t. Where Harper has always been the type to stand out in a crowd and try new things, I’ve been the type to blend in and not take many risks. It was easier that way. Safer.

Of course the one time I step out of my comfort zone and do something risky, I get punished for it.

I pat my stomach. Sorry, little bit, you’re not a punishment.

“Anyway, I should let you get some rest,” my mother says, surprising me. “I’m sure this week has been very exciting for you.”

Exciting isn’t the exact word I’d use for it.

When I told her I’m pregnant, the first thing she asked was if the baby is Thad’s and if we’d be getting back together. At first, I was really hurt that she thought I’d go back to him after what he did to me. But when she blew out a relieved breath when I told her not a chance, I was glad.

She asked if I was dating someone, and I said no.

After that, she dropped it. I was surprised she didn’t press the issue and ask more questions since she’s typically all up in my business about everything else. I think she could sense my turmoil regarding the situation. She’s not asking now, but I know she will later, and I’m already dreading the conversation.

“Something like that,” I murmur.

Concern pulls at her eyes and I can tell she has so much to say, but she doesn’t say it. Instead, she says, “I love you, Hollis. Everything will be okay.”

And because I’m a complete hot mess, tears sting my eyes. This week has been exhausting, and I don’t think I realized how badly I needed to hear that from my own mother.

“Thanks, Mom. I love you too.”

“I know.” She winks. “Get some rest, okay? Call me tomorrow.”

“I will. Good night.”

“Good night, kiddo.”

I toss my phone onto the pillow beside me and roll over onto my back. I stare up at the ceiling, running my hands over my stomach, marveling at the fact that I have a little cherry-sized human growing inside of me.

Harper was right. Even if Lowell doesn’t come around, I know this baby will be loved and cared for. I have support from some of the greatest people in the world who will make sure that holds true.

“Everything will be okay,” I tell myself as my eyes drift shut.

This time when I say it, I almost believe it.