“Dean—” I start, but our teammate is already gone.
We hear footsteps climbing the stairs. A thump. A door clicking shut.
Silence falls over the kitchen.
“I have to leave,” I mutter to Garrett and Logan, unsteadily rising to my feet.
Neither of them ask me where I’m going.
*
Sabrina
I stare at Tucker, unable to comprehend what he’s saying. When he texted to say he was coming to Boston to see me tonight, I expected a serious discussion about our unplanned pregnancy. I panicked, told him I was studying, and he all but said tough shit. I think his exact message was: I’m coming. We’re talking.
The entire hour I was waiting for him, I gave myself pep talk after pep talk. I ordered myself to put on my big-girl pants and deal with this pregnancy the way I deal with everything else in my life—head on. I reminded myself that Tuck had said I’ve got you, that he’d support whatever I chose to do.
But none of that had succeeded in ridding me of the fear clinging to my throat.
Now the fear is even worse, for a whole other reason.
“Beau is dead?” My heart pounds dangerously fast. I’m scared it’s going to give out on me.
I’m scared of the grief I see in Tucker’s eyes.
“Yes. He’s gone, darlin’。”
I can’t understand it. I can’t. Beau is Briar’s starting quarterback. Beau is my friend. Beau’s dimples always pop out when he’s flashing you a particularly naughty grin. Beau is…
Dead.
A car accident, apparently. His father survived but Beau died.
The tears I’ve been fighting spill over and stream down my cheeks in salty rivulets. I try to breathe between sobs, but it’s hard, and eventually I’m hyperventilating. That’s when Tucker wraps me up in a warm, tight embrace.
“Breathe,” he whispers into my hair.
I try, I really do, but the oxygen isn’t getting in.
“Breathe.” Firmer this time, and his hands are moving up and down my back in comforting sweeps.
I manage to take a breath, and then another, and another, until I’m not feeling quite so dizzy. The tears are still falling, though. And my chest feels like someone sliced it open and is poking it with a hot blade.
“He’s…” I gulp. “…was. He was such a good guy, Tuck.”
“I know.”
“He was good and young and he shouldn’t be dead,” I say fiercely.
“I know.”
“It’s not fair.”
“I know.”
Tucker holds me tighter. I burrow against him until there’s nowhere left to go. His strong, solid body is the anchor I need right now. It allows me to cry and curse and rail at the world, because I know Tuck is here, listening to me and steadying me and reminding me to breathe.
A loud knock causes both of us to jump.
“Keep it down in there,” comes Ray’s horrible voice. “‘The hell am I s’posed to watch the game if I can hear you bawling all the way from the living room? You on the rag or somethin’？”
A strangled sob flies out of my mouth. Oh God. Nothing like an interruption from Ray to highlight what an emotional mess I am—an emotional mess who isn’t having her period. Because she’s goddamn pregnant.
My breathing grows shallow again.
Tucker keeps stroking my back as he answers my stepfather. “If you can’t hear the TV, turn up the volume,” he calls tightly.
There’s a beat, then, “Is that you, jock boy? Didn’t realize Rina had company.”
“We walked right past him when you let me in,” Tucker mutters to me.
Yeah, we had. But Ray’s drunker than usual tonight. He spent the whole day at a sports bar with his buddies, getting loaded while they watched the afternoon football games.
“He could barely walk in a straight line when he got home this evening,” I mutter back.
Ray pipes up again, slurring like crazy. “Mus’ not be too good in the sack if you’re making the bitch cry!”
I grab Tucker’s arm before he can stand up. “Ignore him,” I whisper. Then I raise my voice and address Ray. “Go watch your game. We’ll keep it down.”
After another beat, his footsteps thump away.
Tears stain my face as I nestle against Tucker again. “W-will you…” I clear my aching throat. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
“Not even a question,” he murmurs before dropping a soft kiss on my forehead. “I’m here for as long as you need me, baby.”