The Pickup (Imperfect Love 1)

“Damn it, Nick! Have you not listened to a single word I’ve said to you over the years!” My dad shakes his head in disappointment. He’s engrained it into my head a million times over the years to be careful. Too many guys end up paying half of everything they’ve earned by being cavalier when it comes to wrapping their dicks up. I also think, while he’s never said it, him knocking up my mom meant he was forced to marry her. I’ve never asked them, but I’m almost positive my dad has cheated on my mom several times over the years—and vice versa.

“You have everything going for you,” he continues. “You have your career back, your personal life is on track. I can’t believe you would be this careless.” He curses under his breath as he storms out of the room.

Jesus, he’s acting like I’m the first guy in professional sports to get a woman pregnant by accident. He’s a damn sport’s agent. Half his clients probably have kids from one-night stands.

“Did you call my dad on your way here?” I ask Amber once my dad is gone.

“No, but I’m pretty sure it got leaked by a fan or someone. There’s footage of the pregnant woman and Coach Harper leaving the stadium, and then you and Killian following almost directly after.”

“Her name is Liv…Olivia. She’s Coach Harper’s daughter.”

Amber’s eyes go wide. “I’ll make a statement right away. I’ll keep it simple. We don’t know anything at this time, and you’re requesting privacy while you get it sorted.” She gives me a sympathetic smile.

“All right, thank you.”

Seven

Olivia

My feet are in the stirrups, and the doctor is sitting between my legs. When we arrived several hours ago, I was checked in and then brought back to labor and delivery. The nurse hooked me up to several monitors and took my blood. When I requested an epidural for the pain, she frowned apologetically and said I was already too far along for it, but she could give me some pain reliever. Once I was situated, I called Giselle to fill her in, and she immediately left her mom’s house to meet me here. The doctor has come by numerous times to check on my progress, and my family has been in and out of my room to make sure I’m okay throughout my labor. A few minutes ago, after checking on the baby’s status once again, the doctor informed me it’s time to push.

Since I made the decision to only have Giselle in the room with me when I give birth, my dad is outside with Corrine and Shelby, while Giselle is next to me currently holding my hand.

“Okay, Olivia. Here comes a contraction,” the doctor says. “Push for me.” I push through the contraction, and the pain is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I almost feel bad I might break Giselle’s hand from squeezing it too hard. “That’s good…and relax.” This process goes on and on and on for God knows how long. Each push hurts worse than the last. My body is tiring out.

And then finally in the middle of another push, the doctor says, “I see hair. You’re close.” I stop pushing, taking a small break, and wait for the next one to hit. My throat is dry from screaming and exerting myself, and I’m seriously questioning this so-called pain reliever the nurse insisted she gave me.

“Sir, you can’t go in there!” the nurse shouts, and I look over to see Cole’s large frame filling the doorway.

“I might be the father,” he says, ignoring her and walking inside. I’m about to kick him out when another contraction hits, and I find myself pushing.

“Oh my God!” I scream in pain.

“Keep going. Keep going,” the doctor commands. “There he is!” My body finds relief as the doctor holds the baby up. “Congratulations.”

The nurse comes over and cleans up my baby boy, then she sucks all the stuff out of his nose. He’s screaming and crying, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

“Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?” the doctor asks Nick, and I shoot him a warning glare, which he ignores—Nick, not the doctor.

“Oh, I’m not a doctor.” Nick shakes his head, and the doctor chuckles while I roll my eyes.

“I know, I am. Sometimes the dads like to cut the umbilical cord that connects the mother to the baby.”

Nick nods and slowly steps forward. The nurse holds my baby while the doctor hands Nick the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. I want to yell at him and tell him not to touch anything involving my baby. Not even a few hours ago he was accusing me of lying and saying the baby isn’t even his. But I don’t say a word because I can’t. My heart is pained, and there’s a huge lump in my throat. This was supposed to be my husband cutting the umbilical cord. I read about this in a baby book. It’s a tradition for men to feel like they’re part of the delivery—to help establish an emotional connection between the father and the baby. Tears blur my vision as I watch Nick carefully cut the cord. I feel Giselle’s hand on my shoulder, and when I look up, she’s snapping pictures with her phone camera. I, both, hate and love her for that.