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The girl I’ve been obsessed with since I was a teenager told me she was pregnant with my baby, and my reply was, “Fuck.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I was shocked. Iamshocked.
After I brushed my teeth this morning, I stood at the sink for fifteen minutes, watching the toothpaste slide down the drain and listening to,Collins is pregnant. I’m having a kid,on endless repeat. Like it was a necessary reminder, not an impossible fact to forget.
I up the pace and sprint faster, even though I’m already dripping with sweat.
I fucked up.
Shock is a shitty excuse for my reaction. I knew I’d messed up before Collins left my office. I acted like a zombie throughout dinner, making up a hasty excuse to leave early, which undoubtedly annoyed the team I was meant to lead and likely meant Beauté would go in another direction.
As soon as I got home, I looked up Collins’s number in the employee database and called her. She didn’t answer—the first time I called or the three subsequent ones.
Maybe she knew it was me.
Maybe she doesn’t answer calls from unknown numbers. I debated leaving a message or texting her, but I didn’t know what to say.
Hey, it’s Kit. Just wanted to say sorry about my sperm. Call me so we can talk!
If I hadn’t known she was out of town, I would have simply shown up at her apartment. But that wasn’t an option this weekend.
I grit my teeth and sprint faster.
“I don’t expect anything from you.”
That sentence stung. Expect is worse than want or need. Shedoesn’texpectanything from me.
Collins thinks I’ll—what? Ignore her like an inconvenient truth? Pretend she never said a word? Be a deadbeat dad?
I feel guilty about my initial reaction. Ashamed even. But I’m also pissed. I thought she’dfinallystopped seeing me as a stupid sixteen-year-old. Since she started working for me, we’ve acted as a team. Interacted like equals.
I might have a reputation as a partying playboy, one that’s not entirely unjustified, but that’s notallI am. I work hard, and I take responsibilities seriously. Sheshouldhave expectations of me.
The timer on my phone starts chiming merrily. A cheerful sound that only darkens my mood.
I need to shower and change and head into the office. I set my morning alarm an hour earlier than usual to ensure I’m in the office extra early and that there’s plenty of time to talk to Collins as soon as she arrives.
Banging the red button on the treadmill doesn’t do much to expel my frustration, but it’s something. As soon as the belt halts, I grab my water bottle and a clean towel and head for the elevator.
The shiny doors part as I approach, revealing Sadie Carmichael. Her eyes light up when she sees me, her smile only dimming when she registers which direction I’m headed in.
“You already worked out?” She pouts.
“Early meeting. See you around.” I step around her and into the elevator, but Sadie sticks a hand out, preventing the doors from closing.
My jaw works as irritation simmers in my bloodstream. My interest in small talk is currently nonexistent.
“Does an early meeting mean you’ll get to leave work early? I’m supposed to go to a happy hour tonight with some friends, but I’drather drink with you.” She winks.
I could—and maybe should—simply tell Sadie I’m busy tonight and remind her I’m in a rush. A polite dismissal, like I did when she showed up at my office. Instead, I ask, “You ever have a crush on someone, Sadie?”
“I—of course.” She smooths her ponytail, confusion creasing her forehead.
“Well, I’ve had a crush on the same girl since I was in high school. And every time, I fuck it up with her in some way. I say too much, or I don’t say enough, or I—” I shake my head. “I’m trying to stop fucking it up. So, I can’t get a drink with you tonight. Or any other night.”
The disappointment on Sadie’s face fades, little by little, until she’s smirking at me. “Aw. That’s so cute!”