Love Song(116)

I nod, because I’ve heard this before. And while I feel sick about the childhood he had, I’m proud of who he’s become. He’s a good man in spite of his father. He could’ve taken a whole different path, perpetuated the cycle of abuse, but he broke free of it.

“I lashed out,” he continues, and I hear the grief in his voice. “I said shit that I regret. The thing about your mom is she always sees through my bluster and cocky remarks. She knew it was coming from a place of fear and was able to forgive me. We made up, and then we had you guys, and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He reaches over and slings one arm around me, squeezing my shoulder before releasing me.

“You’re already ahead of the game, Wyatt. You’re standing here saying you’ll do whatever it takes. And that’s something I had to learn the hard way. I had to learn to be your dad.”

“Well, I had—have,” I correct, “a great father. I know I can do this if she wants me to. Maybe not perfectly. I’ll probably screw it up half the time, but I think I can do it.”

I can’t believe the words that are exiting my mouth. Who the fuck is this guy? My entire life, my head has been pure chaos, pushing me in a thousand different directions. One summer with Blake has tethered me. Not in the way she fears, though.

Not a trap but an anchor.

When I check on her a short while later, she’s curled up on her bed, her cheek pressed against the pillow. The ashen shade of her face tells me she just threw up.

“You okay?” I ask quietly. “Need me to bring you some crackers? Water?”

“No, thank you. I’m just gonna lie here until my stomach settles.”

I stretch out next to her, and she rolls toward me and rests her cheek on my chest. I run my fingers through her hair.

“You were right,” I find myself saying.

“About what?”

“When you said I’ve been stuck in my own life by telling myself stories about who I am, who I’m supposed to be. I’ve been so fucking stubborn about everything. Refusing to even consider playing pop music, refusing to let people help me. Convincing myself I can’t ever have a relationship because I’m self-centered and music comes first and I’m destined to be alone on the road.” There’s a strange ache in my chest. “Fuck. All I ever did was hold myself back.”

“And you’re not holding back anymore?” she murmurs.

“I don’t think so. It’s…sort of fucked up, but the moment you told me you were pregnant, it’s like I could suddenly see all these new paths available to me.” I swallow. “Not necessarily ones that lead to fatherhood. I’m not saying we should keep it. But all those paths have one thing in common.”

“What?”

“You. All paths lead to you.”

She tilts her head up at me, and her bottom lip starts trembling. I don’t miss the flood of emotion in her eyes, so I pull her close again, gently stroking her hair. After several beats of silence, her whisper tickles my neck.

“You don’t have to stay here if you want to go write.”

“No.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”





THE DEAN MACHINE



DEAN

They’re acting weird, right?



ALLIE

Who?



DEAN

G and Logan and their respective clans. Something’s up. They’ve barely texted me this week.



ALLIE

Just because they’re not texting you doesn’t mean something’s up. Contrary to popular Dean belief, the world doesn’t revolve around you, sweetie.



DEAN

Beau—back me up. Blake and the twins have been quiet, right?



BEAU

I don’t know. I haven’t noticed.



IVY

Leave him alone, Daddy. He’s sad.



ALLIE

Aw honey. AJ’s still not talking to you?



KATE

LMAO AJ’s never talking to him again. Not after what he did.



ALLIE

Maybe don’t laugh at your brother’s misery, Katherine?



KATE

Maybe don’t bang your best friend’s girlfriend?



DEAN

You’re fifteen. Don’t use the word bang. Ivy—weigh in?



IVY

Not until you change the name of this group chat.



DEAN DI LAURENTIS CHANGED THE NAME OF THE GROUP CHAT TO THE BEST-LOOKING FAMILY EVER.

IVY

Better.





Chapter 46


BLAKE





IN TEN DAYS, I HAVE to go back to school.

In eight days, I have my seven-week scan.

Coincidence? I think not.

The universe is forcing me to choose. I see you, universe. Transparent bitch.

The idea of not finishing my senior year feels like a waste. I mean, it is a waste. It’s a waste of my parents’ money, because they paid for my tuition. Which means I have to finish college.

While possibly pregnant.

Ugh. And, what, have a baby in the middle of my graduation ceremony?