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“Umm, I’m in bed with no makeup on.”
I scoff. “I’m sure you’re gorgeous, no matter what.”
I sit on the couch and switch the call. Her face comes on the screen, and I bite my lip to stop from outright groaning. Somehow, I forgot how young and beautiful she is.
She’s sitting against a white, fluffy pillow that engulfs her. Her alluring eyes instantly captivate me, drawing me in with their shy gaze. Sexy, dark waves frame her face and shoulders. Her lips, pouty and inviting, complete the seductive package, and fuck me, this wasn’t a good idea.
“Wow, okay.” My cheeks and ears grow warm. “You’re even better in bed.” Wait? What? “That’s not what I meant.” Jesus, I’m a teenager fumbling over my words.
We share a laugh, and I’m glad she still has her bubbly sense of humor.
“Let me rephrase that. You’re perfect, regardless of makeup.”
She offers me a gentle smile. “You also look great.” She appraises me, and it reminds me of the first time we met—the way she noticed me, the way she flirted with me. “You seem happier,” she says.
“Thank you. I am happier, a lot happier.”Mainly because of you.
She bites her lip and drops her gaze, and the camera angle shifts as she relaxes. She’s wearing an oversized white T-shirt, nothing underneath, and I’m left speechless.
Stunned stupid, I stare.
The sight of her peaked nipples has desire stirring low in my gut, but it’s her swollen belly that really does it for me.
I did that.
Thank fuck she can’t see me reach down and adjust my pants. Face-to-face, I’d never keep my emotions in check. If she ends up with my captain, I’ll need to stay away. She’s too tempting.
“What did you want to discuss?”
What were we discussing? Oh, yeah, my idiotic idea to allow Jackson to claim her publicly.
This decision is best for everyone involved, including the team, I tell myself. Repeatedly.
“Please hear me out before hanging up on me, okay?”
She maintains an annoyed expression while I outline my plan.
By the end, her glare is icy, her jaw tight. “You want me to fake date Jackson for the publicity? Let him pretend to be the father ofyourbaby?”
I wince. “Not dating exactly. Although I believe it’s the best solution for everyone.”
“Do you not want to be involved? I’ve given you that option.” Her lips tremble, and her eyes turn glassy. “I have enough stress in my life. I’m not interested in playing your games.” A tear escapes, and she quickly brushes it away.
I wish I could be with her, comfort her, and make everything disappear.
But that’s not possible.
“Aurora, I want to be involved. Iplanto be involved. But I don’t fit the narrative of your public lives. People assume Jackson is the father. Other players are already harassing him over the elevator incident. If they find out this baby is mine, it’ll get worse—much worse, especially in the locker room. And the negative publicity will jeopardize all our careers.”
She lays a hand on her stomach, her voice cracking when she says, “You’re ashamed of this…of me.”
My blood boils, and my heart breaks simultaneously. “Fuck, no. Don’t twist this around. If anything, I don’t deserveyou. You’re young and beautiful, and this whole situation is surreal to me. Supporting you financially is the easiest way for me to help, but you won’t allow me to do that. I’m trying to make the best of this situation, and maybe that means me stepping aside—not that I want to.”
Silence falls between us. I hang my head and push my fingers through my hair in frustration. “I didn’t even think of this plan until Jackson’s fight.”
“You care about Jax.” It’s not a question or an accusation, simply her observation.
“He’s changed. I’ve had a few unfortunate run-ins with his father, so I can empathize with what he’s been through. That doesn’t mean I don’t think he has work to do, but he clearly loves you. Lucky fucker.”