She rolls her eyes and sips from the glass in her hand, her voice lowered to a whisper. “Don’t be so dramatic. Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.”
“I wish things had worked out differently,” I admit.
Jordan’s gaze moves to her date, who’s flagging her down, his arm raised in the air. She gives him a quick wave to tell him she’ll be over. “He will get over himself and come to his senses at some point. No matter how much he wants to deny that he’s going to be a father, it’s the truth. Men don’t process emotions the same way women do. They’re not wired like us. Just give him some time.”
“What about me? I need someone to be there for me, to keep me from having a meltdown.”
She cups my shoulder and squeezes it. “You have me and your sisters right here.”
“I want Trent,” I confess. “I love him.”
Jordan glances over at the front door, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Why don’t you tell him then?”
I follow her line of sight, surprised to see Trent dressed in black slacks and a red dress shirt that matches my dress. My heart flutters at the sight of him, still in disbelief that he showed. I was so sure he was going to blow this night off and ignore me until he was ready to come to terms with my pregnancy.
After he questioned whether the baby is his or Tucker’s, I wanted to slap him for being an ass. But now that he’s here, I want to pull him into my arms and hug him for dear life. With my hormones being so out of whack, one minute I love him, and the next I hate his guts for being a dick to me.
Trent walks into the living room with Jamie, who Shannon latches onto the second she spots him. They approach Jordan and me, and the nerves bubble up inside my chest. Why am I so anxious about seeing him? He’s my boyfriend. It’s not like he’s some random guy who knocked me up.
“Hey,” Trent says in his deep, sexy voice I’ve missed so much this week. He bends down to kiss my cheek, and then hooks his arm around my back. “You look beautiful, Jem.”
I lean in to his touch and smile up at him. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
He smirks. “I always look good.”
I shake my head. “You’re so cocky.” He shrugs, and I add, “I didn’t think you’d show.”
“I’m here for you and, you know.” He dips his head down toward my stomach, not wanting to say the words aloud, and I’m thankful he didn’t. “Can we talk?” He slips his fingers between mine, his touch sending a brush of heat along my skin that skates up and down my arm.
I missed all of him—his smile, scent, manly voice, all of him.
I nod at the people dancing around us to a slow song. “How about we dance first.”
Trent leads the way, making room for us in the corner of the room, where we have a little more privacy.
He sweeps a strand of hair out of my eyes. “While we were apart, I realized something.”
“And what’s that?”
“That I love you. I want to be here for you and the baby. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did the other day. I was scared and not thinking straight. I panicked. I’m so sorry. I will never make the same mistake again. Can you forgive me for being an asshole?”
I can hardly breathe after he’s done speaking. “You love me?”
“Is that all you heard?” He laughs. “Yes, I love you, Jemma with a J. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one. You set my world on fire. You make me want to be a better man. And now I want to be better for our child. I know neither of us asked for this, but it’s happening one way or another, and I want to be part of every second of it. I want to do this with you.”
I rub my thumb along his cheek and cup the side of his face. “I love you, too, Trent. And I’m glad we’re doing this together.”
He smiles, a real one this time, not one of his boyish smirks. “Me, too.”
And then he lifts me, so my feet are off the floor, and he’s whisking me around the dance floor like I weigh nothing. I rest my head against his chest, drinking in his musky scent as he makes me feel like the only girl in the world. The only girl in his world.
Thirty-Two
Jemma
Two months later
The rink is packed. A chill runs down my arms, causing my teeth to chatter. Even after months of watching Trent play hockey, I still haven’t gotten used to the cold. With the lives growing inside me, I’m always hot now, but not when I’m this close to the ice.