Dirty Game

It all happened so fast. I didn’t have time to think or feel. Only react to the way Blake knew how to handle my body.

I grabbed at him. Needing contact. Needing warmth. It was the hottest part of summer, but I had been locked up in this lonely house without warmth. Without this.

Blake wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. An overbearing, confident, sexy-as-hell man. His shoulders bulged above me and I felt the hardness of his erection press into my hip.

I moaned slightly at the impact of it all.

And that’s when we broke apart. Like two magnets completely repelled by each other. Blake stumbled backward and I reached for the countertop to keep from buckling to the ground.

That kiss never should have happened.

Before I could say anything, he walked to the door, slamming it behind him. I touched my lips with my fingertips, feeling the burn his mouth had branded on my skin.

Shit.

I locked the door as he peeled out of the driveway. The wheels sprayed gravel in every direction. I leaned into the door as if that would somehow steel me to do the right thing for once.

Since I had been here nothing had gone right. Tonight was just another example.

Everywhere I turned were reminders of how much I had screwed up. I slid to the floor and let the tears follow.

I’d always wanted to tell Blake the truth. I’d always wanted him to know, but too much time had passed. And then he’d been drafted by the AFA. Now, he was famous—he was a millionaire. He didn’t need an ex-girlfriend showing up to confess her past sins.

I sobbed into my hands until I knew my face was red and blotchy.

What could he do about it now? What would he say? How would I ever explain what had happened?

I crawled toward the coffee table and grabbed a handful of tissues. I blew my nose, knowing it was pointless. The tears were going to come back tenfold.

Just seeing Blake again brought it all back. Every memory. Every moment we’d spent together. Every shred of glass that pierced my heart.

I’d spent my life putting it all behind me and now I couldn’t run anymore. It was all around me. The lies. The deceit. What I had given up. How weak I had been. I shook on the floor, letting the sobs wrack my shoulders harder with each wave of emotion.

Eight Years Ago

Emily tapped on the door. “Sierra, you’ve been in there forever. When are you coming out?”

I stared at the stick on the bathroom counter. I was huddled on the floor in shock. Maybe it was a dream or rather a nightmare.

“Are you ok?” my best friend called through the door.

I rose slowly, needing the reassurance of the tile under my feet. I unlocked the door and let Emily in.

“What is it? What does it say?”

I pointed to the countertop.

She covered her mouth. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant. You’re actually pregnant.”

I nodded in disbelief. It hadn’t registered yet. I held up the two lines and looked at them again. This couldn’t be happening.

I felt her arm circle me. “Are you ok?”

“I think so.” I turned toward her. “What’s Blake going to say?”

She squeezed me tightly. “He’s going to say that whatever you need is what he’s going to do. He loves you. He totally loves you.”

I bit my lip. “But a baby?” I could feel my stomach roll, but I didn’t know if it was from the nerves or from the morning sickness that had started plaguing me.