Wrong For Me

“Let’s cut this shit right here.” Trick steps between us with his eyes squinted, and Hillock laughs.

“My bad, I forgot, him and your baby girl—”

“Shut the fuck up or get punched.” He turns for the doors, and we follow behind him.

And fuck if I’m not nervous.

All I’ve wanted for the last two weeks is for her to look at me, so I can see what shines back my way in her eyes, and now that I’m about to, I’m sweating like a little bitch.

We get to the door, and Rowan pops out with a huge smile, engulfing me in a hug I didn’t know I needed from him.

I wrap him up without hesitation, and he pats me on the back.

“I love you, brother,” he tells me quietly.

I smash my lips together to keep myself in check. I pull back to look him in the eyes.

He saved Oakley’s life, saved my life. And, if the last bomb dropped by Marissa is true, he unknowingly saved my child. His niece or nephew.

“You’re a brave son of a bitch, Rowan. I owe you more than I have to give.”

He shakes his head, blinking back his own emotions as he steps away. “You don’t owe me shit. I’d have died trying if that was what it took.”

I nod, looking away, fighting to keep my eyes from watering.

I don’t deserve his loyalty.

“Yeah, you do, brother.”

My eyes cut to his, and I reach out, pulling him in again. “I love you, man.”

“All right, all right. Let’s go, ladies,” Hillock teases, and we pull back with a laugh.

Trick holds the door to the office open, and Hillock walks in, followed by Rowan, who glances back at me with a wink before disappearing.

I shake out my hands, and a deep crease takes over my forehead.

Trick stares at me, and for the first time since everything went down, I see the concern in his eyes.

My brows dip, my eyes shifting between his, as apprehension overtakes me.

Does he know something I don’t? Was there ever a baby? If yes, is there still?

My ribs ache as my arm shoots out to grip the door to hold myself up.

“Go on, son,” he whispers. “You been waiting to see her … and she needs to see you.”

With a deep inhale, I straighten and move to stand in the doorway, and there she is, sitting behind her dad’s desk, her long blonde hair draped down her back, little to no makeup on, in her everyday Blaze T-shirt.

So simply her.

So beautiful.

Rowan dips to kiss her cheek, whispering something that makes her grin lightly before he moves to sit in one of the three chairs framing the desk.

When I take a step in, she inhales deeply, her pen pausing over the forms she’s trying real hard to keep her eyes on.

She knows I’m standing here, probably sees me in her peripheral, not that she wouldn’t know even if she couldn’t. She’d know I was here if she was turned the other way.

Goose bumps rise on her arms, the closer I get, and with each step I take, it’s something new—her hand tightening on the paper, eyes squeezing closed, a shuddered breath …

She feels me with every part of her, but what worries me is how bad she’s trying not to.

I stop right in front of the desk, ignoring the guys when they tell me to sit.

I just need to see her eyes.

Come on, baby. Look at me. Please, look at me.

She swallows, pulling at the strength inside her, and finally, my baby looks up. And fuck me if I don’t have to lean my weight against the desk to keep from dropping.

I thought I needed to be strong for her, protect her from everything around, but I realize now how wrong I was.

The anger at the edge of her eyes tells me she thinks the same thing, but the tenderness she’s fighting to hide voices what she refuses to say—and with good reason.

This is as hard for her as it is for me—the two of us in the same room with so many uncertainties flying between us. With a future unset and hanging in the balance. Maybe even a baby.

Hopefully a baby.

“Hi, princess …” I breathe so low, I can hardly hear myself.

But she hears it, and her chin starts to wobble. Her eyes gloss over, but she forces two hard blinks and clears her scratchy throat.

“Sit down, Alec,” she whispers, her eyes tightening with my chest when she says my name.

I nod, forcing my feet back, apparently too slow because Rowan reaches forward and pulls me into the chair. And damn if some of the tension doesn’t leave me when the corner of her lips twitches just the slightest.

“Let’s hear it, sweetheart.” Hillock folds his hands in his lap like a child, and she shakes her head.