Page 24 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

I break eye contact, sinking into the chair.

No sign of Dad. I assume he’s taking his time delivering my suitcase, anticipating the bomb that was about to be dropped again.

Maybe I should have told my parents together.

Maybe I shouldn’t have told Kit at work.

I have no clue what I’m doing when it comes to any of this, and I’m afraid I’m failing left and right.

“No,” I answer. “I’m not dating anyone. He’s just a guy I had a … connection with.”

Alluding to sex is less awkward with my mom than it was with my dad, but not by much. We’re close, but not that close.

“Collins, honey …” She’s being careful to keep the concern off her face, but I can feel it in the fish-scented air as she sighs. “Does the father know about the … situation?”

“No.”

I didn’t hesitate before lying, and it’s not because I’m used to sharing selective truths with my parents.

I was disappointed by Kit’s reaction, but I also sympathize with it. I’ve had some time and a doctor’s visit for this baby’s existence to be real. I dumped the news on him. And if Kit gets over his shock and chooses to be involved, I want him and my parents to have a clean slate.

“I’m going to tell him,” I add. “I just have to decide … how.”

“Honesty is always the best policy.”

My mom’s favorite adage.

“Uh-huh,” I agree, standing. Tried that, and all I got was a, “Fuck.”

“Can we talk more tomorrow, Mom? I just want to shower and go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

I’m also worried she’ll have a lot more questions for me once the shock starts to fade, and I’d rather face those in the morning, following a full night of sleep.

She studies me for a few seconds. “You’re sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. Let me just grab a couple of things out of your room.”

A couple of things turns out to be a nightgown, a robe, slippers, a change of clothes, hand cream, three books, reading glasses, and her laptop.

My parents sleep in separate bedrooms. A suspicion I’ve had since Jane moved into the dorms three years ago, but they’ve never been this blatant about it before.

I stand, silent, in the hallway, watching my mom gather up her necessities.

She pauses in the doorway, her belongings stashed in one of the canvas tote bags she hauls around everywhere. She buys the embroidered ones people order and then return because they’re always on sale. Seas the day is stitched on the side of this one in navy thread.

“You told your father.”

It’s more of a statement than a question, but I nod. He’s still absent, which is a dead giveaway. Probably processing in his office or the garage.

She nods back. “Okay. Sweet dreams, honey.”

“Night, Mom,” I reply, then head inside my childhood bedroom.

I’m lying wide awake in bed when the door creaks open an inch.

“Linny?”

I smile at the darkness before sitting up. “Hey, Janey.”

“I am so sorry. I tried to leave earlier.” The crack of light from the hallway expands, illuminating the room enough for me to see the silhouette of my sister approaching the bed. She flings her arms around me exuberantly, stinking strongly of spirits.

My nose wrinkles. “Smells like it was a fun night.”

Jane laughs as she flops down on the comforter beside me. “It was. We’ll go out tomorrow night. There’s this really cute bar that opened on Spring Street.”

“That sounds fun.” I attempt enthusiasm, but Jane sees right through it.

“What’s wrong?”

I exhale. I wasn’t planning to tell her in the middle of the night, but I don’t want to lie either. “I’m pregnant.”

There’s an accompanying relief when I say it this time. I’ve told everyone who needs to know. Kit, my parents, my sister.

An ear-splitting screech shatters the stillness in the room.

“Jane!” My left arm fumbles wildly for my sister in an attempt to silence her. “Shut up! You’re going to wake Mom and Dad.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” Jane chants. “You’re pregnant ? Knocked up and growing a baby pregnant? I’m going to be an aunt! This is so exciting!”

I’m glad one of us is thrilled about the news.

“It gets better,” I say dryly. “Remember Kit Kensington?”

“Duh. Of course I do.”

Jane was one of the unfortunate many who fell in love with Kit during his brief visit to Montgomery Hall.

“Well, he’s the father.”

“Holy shit.” Jane’s whispering now at least. “You slept with him? When? And isn’t he, like, uh, your boss ?”

I sigh. “He sure is.”

“Holy shit,” Jane repeats .

“Yep. It happened before he was my boss, which was one of the many reasons I never should have taken the job, but I really wasn’t anticipating this .”

“He’s super rich, right?”

“Right,” I confirm.

“So, just quit your job. You can live off the child support and finally start playing again.”

“It’s child support, Janey. For the kid, not me. And I don’t want his money.”

I don’t doubt Kit will offer to provide financially. Once his lawyers review the paternity test results, I think he’ll set up a trust fund with a lot of zeroes. And, yeah, it’s comforting to have that safety net. I don’t know much about babies, but I do know they’re expensive.

Money doesn’t hold your hair while you’re throwing up your breakfast though. It doesn’t run to the store and buy your cravings. Doesn’t help assemble a crib or attend ultrasound appointments.

“Just his dick, apparently.” I hear the repressed laughter in Jane’s voice.

I groan. “It was a lapse in judgment.”

“Was it good? I bet it was good.”

“I’m not discussing my child’s conception with you.”

Jane shifts so she can rest a hand on my cheek. “You’re blushing. It was hot, filthy sex, wasn’t it?”

Yes .

She giggles. “Did he talk you through it?”

Yes .

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Nuh-uh. Not yet. Have you told him?”

“Yeah.” I blow out a breath. “I told him. ”

Jane nudges my arm with the sharp point of her elbow. “And?”

“ Ow . Stay on your side.”

“What did he say, Linny?” she asks softly.

I sigh. “Not much. He was … shocked.”

Which I get. I have regular flashes of, Is this really happening?

The only evidence of this pregnancy so far are the positive tests still sitting next to my bathroom sink and the prenatal vitamins on the kitchen counter. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget my life is about to change forever, and when I remember, I’m surprised all over again.

But Kit isn’t the one who has to grow a human. He isn’t the one who has to give birth. I feel entitled to a little more freaking out than him.

“I can’t really picture that,” Jane muses.

“Well, you met him once when you were twelve, Janey. He’s changed.”

I thought he had at least.

“I’ll get to meet him again,” she tells me.

“Maybe,” I whisper.

Based on his reaction earlier, probably not.