Yard Sale

After asking my friend, who happened to be working the front desk, which room Mollie was in, I dart over to the elevator, not wanting to miss it—it’s the kind that you don’t see for ten minutes once it’s gone—and my snow-slick boots slip against the hardwood flooring. I flail for a second, but I end up being able to catch my balance. The elevator went up without me, though, so I do what any normal person would do.

I take the stairs.

I fly up all eight flights of stairs, taking two or three at a time. I walk in the direction of her room number, the plush beige carpet muffling my footsteps—a stark contrast to the urgency I’m feeling inside. I raise my fist to knock, not having any idea how she’s going to react to me showing up uninvited. Either way, I’m not going anywhere until she gives me some answers.

Mollie opens the door, her doe eyes red from crying, and it makes the brown appear almost orange. Her wet eyelashes cling together, and her nose is red. Her heart-shaped mouth parts in shock, and I brace my right arm on the doorframe, leaning in closer.

“I’m going to be a dad?” I ask her, surprised to have to speak around the lump in my throat.

She nods, her bottom lip trembling, trying to hold back the tears. In this moment, I don’t care that she lied to me, that she kept it from me, or anything else. I don’t care about her fuck bag of a boyfriend. All I care about is this woman in front of me that is beautiful and carrying my child and mine.

Sliding my hand behind her neck, I crash my mouth to hers. She stumbles back, the hotel door hitting the wall, but I have her. I push her against the wall, and when her mouth parts on a gasp, I slide my

tongue into her mouth. She tastes like peppermint and hot chocolate. I bring both hands to cup her face, angling her head to devour her to the best of my abilities.

Mollie pulls back, panting. “Cam,” she whispers. “Tucker is here.”

Keeping my hands on her face, I slowly angle my head to the right, and sure enough, Tucker is standing there, and he sheepishly lifts his hand in an awkward, limp wave.

“Well, Fucker, you can leave now.”

“It’s Tucker, and you know it. Don’t talk to him like that,” Mollie snaps with bite in her tone that I’ve never heard before. “He’s been there for me through everything. He’s taken me to every single doctor appointment, and he’s held my hair while I puked for six weeks straight. He’s not my boyfriend, and he’s not your enemy. In fact, he’s essentially your unborn child’s uncle, so don’t fuck up your first choice as a father.”

“It’s not like you gave me that opportunity!” I yell, letting my temper get the best of me. “Don’t you think I would’ve loved to be the one to do that stuff for you? Do you think I’m happy about missing doctor appointments? No. But I’m trying not to hold that against you, Mollie, because the truth is, we didn’t know each other. Hell, we still don’t. But I’m not going to act like I’m happy that some other guy is over here playing daddy to my kid.”

“Tuck?” she asks, sniffling.

“You okay, Molls?” he asks, stepping forward, and I have to hand it to him. He doesn’t cower. If he’s intimidated, he doesn’t show it. He’s ready to protect Mollie, even if it means pissing me off. And I respect that. Reluctantly.

“I’m fine.” She nods, but her eyes are still on me. “Can you give us a minute?”

“Sure,” he says, swiping a room key off the dresser. “I’ll go to your brothers’ room. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you. I will.”

I eye him until he’s out the door, and then Mollie pushes past me to sit on the bed. She’s even more beautiful pregnant—her belly swollen with my kid and her lips swollen from my kiss.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” I say honestly, still trying to wrap my mind around everything. “Can we just start from the beginning? How did this happen?”

Mollie takes a deep breath, tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.

“As you know, we had what I like to refer to as Condomgate. But, I thought we were fine. I was on birth control,” she says, corroborating my memory of how things went down, and I nod for her to continue. “Well, then my period was late. And sometimes that happens, so I didn’t freak out right away. But then it never came. I made an appointment, and when my doctor told me I was pregnant, I flat-out called her a liar.” She laughs, but it lacks humor, and then swipes her thumb under her eye to wipe away a tear. “I told her the situation, and she asked if I had been on any antibiotics. And that’s when it hit me. I was just getting over strep throat when we met, and I was still taking antibiotics.”

“And?” I ask, not sure how that fits into anything.

“And, antibiotics can interfere with birth control.”

I scratch the back of my neck and take a seat on the bed opposite from her, our knees almost touching.

“I wanted to tell you. So many times. But I was scared. I didn’t handle it well myself, so I couldn’t expect you to react well. I looked you up online and started writing to you several times, but nothing sounded right. How do you tell someone you hooked up with for one night that they’re tied to you forever? Or the next eighteen years, at the very least.”

“That all makes sense, but why did you continue to hide it from me after I saw you in the lobby?”

“Sutton told me you’d be in Aspen for the X Games, and then boom, there you were. I panicked. I wasn’t ready. I mean, how many women try to trap men? Especially professional athletes? Would you have even believed me?”

“I would have,” I say, and I realize it’s the truth. “We only had one night together, but I know you well enough to know that’s not your style.”

“I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”