The Daddy Box Set

“Yeah, I guess I’m going to have to talk to him about it at some point. I just don’t understand what happened. One second, he’s getting all excited about going at it bareback and whispering all kinds of shit, and the next—”

“Tell me that you didn’t! That’s too dangerous, Gabbi. You never know who you’re sleeping with until you know who they’ve been sleeping with. You’re smarter than that.” I was, but I also knew how often the team got tested and how careful he’d been with condoms at first.

He did have a daughter, though. He’d claimed that he had worn a condom that night with Harper’s mother, that he’d seen it in the trash the morning after, but that the mom had claimed it had broken.

Even so. “I have an IUD, Heather. You know that.”

My gynecologist had insisted on it when I’d had some intense cramping as a senior that made it almost impossible to study.

“Pregnancy is not a disease, Gabbi. STDs, those are diseases. Some of them serious, incurable ones.” She shook her head and looked at me like I was crazy.

“He’s clean,” I insisted.

“Did he show you a recent test? How do you know?”

I couldn’t give her the real answer. The one that involved my father’s strict policies for his active players.

“I just know. Trust me. He’s clean.” I expected her to give me the talk, but she didn’t.

“Okay, as long as you’re as sure as you seem. Then what happened?”

We talked until the sun was setting through her bay window, bathing the room in soft light.

“I should go; it’s been a long day.” I stretched my stiff limbs and carried my mug to the cluttered sink.

Heather might have cleaned up, but she was still a long way from her usual, orderly self as the exam grew closer.

“That it has. Drive safe, babe. We’ll talk tomorrow. Try and talk to your mystery man, okay? I hate seeing you like this. Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation.”

There was.

He’d realized that I was just not worth his

time. I’m not insecure. I never have been. I was attractive, but James was top-tier supermodel hot. Not only that, he was witty, intelligent, and easy to be around.

Even if he was looking to settle down, which he definitely wasn’t, it wasn’t going to be with a girl like me.

Heather’s words echoed around in my head as I drove home. She was right, to a certain extent anyway. If he was done with me, the least he could do was tell me. My heart stammered at the thought, but finding out sooner was better than later.

I had gone into this thing with my eyes wide open and my heart completely shut. Somehow, he’d taken a crowbar to the layer of protection I had surrounded myself with, and I’d forgotten that he was a fun distraction that my dad would hate.

I had known that James was trouble. It was the very reason I’d said yes to dinner in the first place, but it seemed that I was the one in trouble now that trouble didn’t want to get into me anymore.

On a whim, I decided to call him. I deserved to hear him say that he was over whatever was going on between us. I deserved the truth, even if I was expecting that my call would go to voicemail.

“Gabbi?” he answered on practically the first ring. “Are you okay?”

Concern colored his voice, even over the din of voices in the background. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m on the way home from Heather’s.”

“Oh, okay.” He sounded puzzled. Like he couldn’t figure out why I was calling then.

“I, uh, I was thinking that we should probably talk.” A shout of female laughter came from his end, until a rumbling male voice interfered, and the female voice disappeared with it.

I was not the kind of girl who got jealous. The way I figured it, if the guy was invested in you enough, there was nothing to be jealous about. If he wasn’t, well, good riddance. Let the next skank deal with him.

Yet, the thought of James with another girl sent jealousy coursing through my veins. The thought of another girl putting her hands on him, feeling the power flexing beneath the surface, I couldn’t stand it.

“Yeah, I guess that we should.” There was no emotion in his voice. In fact, it was the same low, arrogant lilt that he’d used the first few times we’d talked.