Page 6

Chapter 5

Penelope

“No, no, no, no,” I panic as I grip the counter and stare at the plus sign on the white stick on my bathroom counter.

This cannot be happening, it can’t be flipping happening, not now, not when my job is going so well, not when I don’t even know how to get in contact with Taylor.

God, I can’t even return to his apartment because I can’t remember where he lives. On our way there, I was too busy praying we wouldn’t die, when I left, my mind was swimming. I didn’t take note, or purposely didn’t, knowing I’d want to go back because of our connection, which I know for a fact still pulls at me, as does the regret of not staying until he woke up.

My heart misses him, it makes no sense to me. I barely know him, yet I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. But what are the chances that he is trying to find me? None.

Breathing heavily, I grab the other test and turn it over, hoping the first one was wrong, but one word in bold shows up, and my stomach sinks.

Pregnant

Oh god, I’m pregnant .

Nausea hits me, I quickly rush to the toilet and empty the little I managed to eat this morning, my stomach tightening with each wretch as I struggle to breathe as bile continues to try and leave me.

When I feel like nothing more will come up, I take deep breaths and stand before going to the sink, washing my mouth out, and looking up at the mirror.

Bags line my eyes, sleep evading me with back-to-back shifts, my hair a curly mess.

Breathing deeply, I throw the tests in the trash and walk out of my bathroom while wiping my mouth as fear runs through me, my body trembling.

How in the hell am I going to find him?

I swallow the bile that has yet again risen as my sister says, “I know you’re not a big hockey fan, but I promise it’s nearly finished,” and despite her eyes glued to the TV, I nod but don’t answer her verbally, worried I might word vomit next about the little something that is apparently in my stomach.

How did I end up pregnant? I mean, I know how I ended up pregnant, he didn’t use a condom, I know the pill isn’t a hundred percent, but I was a virgin, I-I…. bile rises again, burning my throat.

“I cannot believe The Red Lions finally won the cup. Honestly, I thought the Seals had it this year, but I guess their Captain wasn’t as hungry as the Red Lions’,” my sister mumbles, and I hum like I’m listening, but I really am not.

She’s been staying here quite a lot since she ended up in the ER, her husband not arguing after our father actually came through and threatened the man’s career. He tried to fight it at first until his parents heard that I had taken photos of his abuse of my sister, they panicked.

Apparently, their oldest son, who never got the offer of the arranged marriage, is a top football player, they didn’t want his reputation to be dampened due to his brothers’ actions.

“I must admit, though, the Red Lions Centre is hot as hell,” Avery continues, and I hum again as the reporter’s voice echoes in my apartment.

“So, tell me, how does it feel to hold the Stanley Cup yet again?” the guy asks someone as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and open it.

“It’s uh, it’s amazing, you know,” a voice I know, a voice that I hear in my dreams, speaks out, I turn so quickly that dizziness hits, I have to grab the kitchen counter to stop myself from falling on my ass.

My eyes instantly go to the TV on my wall, I lock on Taylor’s form, wearing a jersey with the number four on the front, a helmet in one hand, a stick in the other.

He’s a hockey player?

“I mean, my team, we’re a family and we are strong. We moved as one, I’m proud to be their captain,” he finishes and smiles at the camera, my stomach flips—and not because I’ve been sick.

Damn, I was hoping my feelings were all in my head because I gave him my virginity, but the pull I have it’s consuming me, just like it did that night.

“Taylor Evans is gorgeous,” Avery says nonchalantly, not realizing the dilemma I’m currently going through as Taylor runs his fingers through his wet hair.

The TV changes to a news anchor, the video of his talking vanishing, and the bald news anchor speaks, “It wasn’t just the cup Taylor Evans won last night; seems he also won the heart of his girl,” and my stomach sinks as a picture of Taylor in a black button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up showing his tattoos and a leggy blonde clinging to him as she looks up at him like he holds the moon while he smirks at the camera.

“That girl seems more like Harry’s type than Taylor Evans,” my sister sneers, pure hate for her husband lacing her tone and I can’t even roll my eyes at her stupidity because she knew his reputation. Instead, my eyes tear up as picture after picture shows up on the screen of them together at not just the public event this evening but also a casual walk this morning around Central Park as the man talks about how happy and in love they are looking and how they’ve apparently been dating for a while on the down low but ‘ Sonia ’ let the cat out of the bag at the bar I met him at by kissing him in front of everyone, the same bar he apparently frequents after a game before my sister shuts the TV off with a sigh then slumps back on my couch.

Saliva fills my mouth and I know my word vomit cannot stay in.

“That’s the guy I slept with at your bachelorette party,” I admit in shock. Avery spins to look at me, but my eyes are on the blank screen as I whisper in pain, “I gave him my virginity.”

Oh god, oh god ….

“ Holy, you slept with Taylor Evans!” she screeches after a few moments of silence, and she stands up in shock and shouts, “ You gave him your virginity? I thought you gave that away years ago!”

I lock eyes with my sister, who looks at me like I betrayed her by keeping her in the dark which is very hypocritical considering she’s been sleeping with her abusive husband and some other guy, something I only know because I overheard her talking to someone this morning and she opened up when I confronted her.

A sob releases from me as I admit, “I’ve just taken two pregnancy tests, he has a girlfriend while I beat myself up every day for not leaving him my number or at least waiting until he woke up before leaving.”

Uncontrollable tears fall as Avery looks at me in shocked silence, and I finish, “I don’t even know how to get in contact with him because I can’t remember how to get to his place,” then fall to the floor with uncontrollable sobs.

Breathing becomes difficult as my regret and fear take over. I feel arms wrap around me, squeezing me tightly, and my sister whispers, “It’s okay; everything is going to be okay.”

“H-how,” I croak, my body trembling, “I-I, oh God….”

Sobs wreck my body, Avery holds me tighter.

“We can return to the bar; we’ll find his agent’s number. We will get a hold of him,” she promises.

“B-But what-what about his-his girlfriend,” I sob, not willing to push myself into his life if he’s found someone that he wants to spend his life with, even if it means hurting me.

Avery pulls back and cups my cheeks, her eyes are serious as she states, “What about her? You slept together what six weeks ago?” I nod because it was roughly that long. She nods back and continues, “Then it can’t be serious,” she wipes my cheeks with her thumbs, “You have spent weeks, weeks, Pen, regretting not staying with him. You told me about the connection, I’m sure he felt it too, and if he didn’t, then yes, it is his loss, but he deserves to know that he is about to become a dad.”

I blink, trying to take steady breaths as I keep eye contact with my sister. I allow her words to wash over me until I feel like I can breathe again, and I nod once.

She gives me a small smile and says, “Okay, then let’s do some digging. While we’re at it, we need to contact your OBGYN to get confirmation.”

I sniffle but nod again, she stands before helping me up and dragging me over to the couch before pushing me down. She grabs my laptop and sits next to me, opening the lid before she grabs my phone from the coffee table and passes it to me.

“Right, first things first, contact your OB while I do some digging,” she demands. I swallow hard but listen like she isn’t my little sister and find the number I need.

An hour is how long it takes for Avery to get his agent's number.

I called my OB and booked an appointment for next week to confirm the pregnancy. Based on my last period, I’m just over six weeks pregnant, Avery has gone in circles calling the ice rink, the assistant coach who was no help to basically online stalking him to find his agents number and had even found out the little girl I looked after last month, Kaylah Evans, is his niece meaning the number I was given was Taylors.

I wasn’t going to use it. I was flattered, but I knew I couldn’t try with someone else when I wanted Taylor, not realizing it was his number, but it did make sense why her uncle looked so familiar with the eyes.

Dark blue like Taylors .

“Okay, her name is Elena, she is actually half of the team’s agent,” Avery says, and I nod, hating that the number Kaylah gave me was wrong.

I think she got one of the numbers wrong; I just don’t know which one.

I take the phone from her, put it on the loudspeaker, and listen to it ring several times. Just when I think it’ll go to voicemail, someone picks up.

“This is Elena Thompson,” a snotty woman answers, I narrow my eyes, making my sister bite back her smile.

She sounds like Zane-holes mother.

I clear my throat, “I, this is Penelope Vine. Uh, I’m calling because I’m trying to reach one of your clients.”

She’s quiet for a moment, I lock eyes with Avery, who raises a brow at me. I shrug and open my mouth to speak again, but Elena beats me and asks, “And which client are you referring to and why?”

I swallow hard and admit, “Taylor Evans. We slept together, and I’ve just found out I’m pregnant.”

She’s quiet again before she laughs, making me and Avery jump. Shock rides through me at her reaction.

“Love, do you have any idea how many calls I receive from women claiming to be pregnant with a client’s child for a big payday?” I grind my back teeth angrily as the woman finishes, “Nice try. Why don’t you trap someone else, little girl, because you’re playing with the big league, and you’ll lose.”

That said, she hangs up. My mouth hangs open in surprise as Avery and I stare at the phone in shock.

“Well, his agent’s a bitch,” she mutters, and I nod and ask, “What am I going to do?”

Avery looks at me with determination and replies, “Then we’ll have him served just so he gets the message, if that doesn’t work, we’ll annoy his agent until she listens.” I nod, and Avery takes me into her arms and whispers, “I promise everything will be okay.”

Every inch of me hopes and prays she's right, especially when we haven’t even discussed how we will tell our parents, who are still adamant about me marrying Zane-hole and will most likely disown me meaning she will follow suit because of her husband.

Damn, they’re going to disown me.

That thought hurts more than I thought it would.