I snicker and plunge my spoon in. I've heard of men gaining weight when their significant others got pregnant and now I know why. "I'm quite sure your workout regimen lets you have a few bites of ice cream here and there."
"That's what I'm telling myself," he says as I let the heavenly concoction of dark chocolate and cherry slide down my throat.
I hand the ice cream to him. "So what do you want to talk about?"
"Play-offs," he says, and then I wait for him to take another bite and swallow. He hands the pint back to me and explains. "They'll be starting soon...April fifteenth to be exact. And as you know since you're a fan, we've got a great chance at winning the Cup again."
I nod as I eat the ice cream, not intending to give it back yet.
He continues. "And I just wanted to let you know that it's just a high-pressure situation. The physical and mental toll is going to be tough on the entire team, and well...I guess I just wanted to warn you. I get really intense during play-offs, really focused on that trophy. I'll be involved in the pregnancy, but I'm afraid my head may not be there all the time and I just wanted to explain it to you. It's nothing personal. I'm like that with my family and friends too. All of us players, we're just sort of in a zone, and I didn't want you to take it to heart if I'm distant."
My stomach sinks as I process what he's saying, and I realize I don't want a different Lucas. I want this easygoing, fun, and sexy guy. He's making it sound like he's going to turn into a monster or something during the play-offs. Even worse, what if he's letting me know this is the start of the end of us? I think he's telling me that's when our expiration date will kick in, and I don't like the way I feel incredibly let down right now.
But he'll never know I feel that way because I don't share stuff like that. Instead, I put on a pleasant smile and shrug. "I get it. You should concentrate on the play-offs. That's a big deal, and I'm a big girl. You don't need to worry about me."
Lucas physically deflates in front of me, letting out a huge sigh of relief. "I'm so glad you understand. I know things are really new, but I figured you'd get my worries. It makes me feel better you know where I'm coming from."
"Well, I'm glad we got that out of the way," I say as I put the ice cream on my nightstand. And because I'm now feeling this deadline looming over me, I decide to make the best of what's left. Turning toward Lucas, I pull the sheet off his lap and bring my hand to his cock, which is lying soft and settled against his leg. He groans when I wrap my hand around it, stroking it in short pulls until he starts to get hard.
I look up at him, then down pointedly to his thickening shaft. "I think you're ready to go again."
He merely grunts in pleasure as I give him a squeeze and smile to myself.
At least I have this right now.
Chapter 11
Lucas
I lean in toward the bathroom mirror, tilt my head left, then right, make an adjustment to a lock of hair that's going in the wrong direction, and then I'm done. Ready to go over to Stephanie's house for the evening.
What I'd really like to do is have her over here for a change, but that's difficult with this being a small house and having a roommate. We get a little loud.
It's also difficult because despite that first night we were together in my house after I learned about the pregnancy, she's put off any suggestion of hooking up here. I think it's just another way to keep some distance between us, sort of like she doesn't want to get comfortable in my space.
That's all just supposition, though, because she and I haven't talked very much in the last four days. I've been on a road trip where we actually clinched first place in our division, meaning we get home-ice advantage when the play-offs start next week.
And next week...it's on, big time.
I turn away from the mirror and walk across the hall to my bedroom to grab my keys and wallet, wondering how tonight will go. Stephanie extended the invite to me when I texted her we were back from the trip, and I was a little bit surprised, because the communication was lacking over the four nights I was gone. I'd text her each morning to ask how she was, and she'd respond with a few lines, but nothing more. She didn't reach out to me at all, even when we won our games, and I know she was watching them because she's a big hockey fan. This hasn't been setting well with me and I have to wonder if she's getting tired of the friends-with-benefits gig we got going on or even perhaps it has too many strings involved.
Regardless of the reason for her pulling away this week, I'm going to get to the bottom of it. She and I are heading into stressful times for both of us, and what we have is as about as solid as melting ice over a lake. I can't have my relationship with her fucking my head up during play-offs. She can't afford to be stressed out during the pregnancy.
I head into the kitchen, intent on snagging a bottle of water from the fridge for the ride downtown to Stephy's house. There's a knock at our door and my gaze cuts over to Van, who's lying on the couch watching the news. His eyes come to mine and we engage in a staring contest.
Finally I ask, "Are you going to get the door?"
"Why me?" he replies lazily.
"Um...because you're closer to it," I suggest dryly.
With a huff, he rolls off the couch and lumbers to the door. I'm a big dude and Van is bigger than me. He's also an enforcer on our team and he likes to fight.
Like a lot.
I wouldn't want to meet a pissed-off Van in a dark alley.
Or a lit alley for that matter.
He has a lot of rage and aggression that fuels him when he fights, which makes him quite a formidable opponent.
Van opens the door without even looking through the peephole and I'm surprised to see Simone standing on the stoop with her luggage.
"Something you're not telling me?" Van mutters with a sweep of his hand toward Simone.
"That's my sister," I say with an eye roll, and walk toward them. My eyes go to her and I note she's staring at Van, and what the fuck, she's looking at him like she could eat him up.
Oh hell no.
"What are you doing here?" I practically bark at Simone. Max, Jules, and I have been triple teaming her about returning to school, and it seemed like she had finally relented, promising to return this weekend. She hadn't missed enough classes yet to hurt her graduation date, and we all three agreed that it would be a secret between us and that Mom and Dad never had to know about her temporary insanity.
"I'm staying," she says as she pushes past Van and leaves her suitcases on the porch. With a toss of her long brown hair off her shoulders, she pats Van on the arm and says, "Can you bring those in for me?"
"You're not staying, Simone," I say with frustration. "You said you were going back to school."
"Changed my mind," she says calmly, folding her arms over her chest. "And I can't stay long term at Max's because I'm taking up one of the boys' rooms and he needs it back. I like this area, I love my brothers, so I'm staying. "
"Not here, you're not," I toss out, figuring if I deny her a roof over head she'll wake the fuck up.
"You don't mind, do you, big guy?" Simone asks as she turns her pretty head and bats her lashes at Van. Jesus...she's even making her French Canadian accent heavier to add to the allure.
I can tell by the look on his face that Van's not impressed. In fact, he looks quite bored with her, and that's awesome. He won't let her stay.
Instead the fucker shrugs and mutters, "I don't give a fuck, but you're not getting my room."
"You're not getting my room either," I tack on.
"It's settled then," Simone exclaims brightly as she flounces by me and drops down on the couch. "I totally don't mind sleeping here."
Van looks at me, waiting to see what I want. I give a deep sigh and he knows what that means, so he steps out onto the porch and pulls Simone's bags in.
"Be a sweetie," she purrs at him, "and put those in Lucas's room so they won't be in the way."
Van answers her by dropping them just inside the door, which he shut
s behind him. Without a word, he walks toward the hallway that leads to his bedroom.
Simone calls out, "I'm Simone, by the way. Lucas's little sister."
Van doesn't even stop or acknowledge her and within moments I hear his bedroom door shutting. I rub my hand over my face and then turn my glare onto Simone. "What the fuck are you doing, Simone? This is crazy even by your standards."
"He's kind of rude, don't you think?" Simone asks, completely ignoring my question.
"Not as rude as you showing up on my porch with luggage saying you're staying here without asking," I say, and then take a deep breath. "And not as rude as you deciding not to go back to school after you agreed it was the best thing for you."
"You don't understand--"
"What I understand"--I come perilously close to yelling at her--"is that you are less than thirty days from graduating with a bachelor's degree from a fucking ivy league school, and if you go back now, you will not fuck that up. It is absolutely ridiculous for you to think you can step away when you're this close."
Simone stares at me a moment and then lowers her gaze to her lap. Her voice is soft when she says, "I'm not that close to graduating."
"What?" I ask, thoroughly confused.
Her face tilts up and she's already wincing at my expected outburst from what she's getting ready to say. She blurts it out so fast I think I mistake her for a moment. "I actually never enrolled for this semester."
"What the ever-loving fuck?" I yell at Simone, giving her even more reason to wince. "How is that even possible?"
"I decided last semester I was just done with school," she says quietly. "I was racing for a goal that wasn't mine, but was Dad's."
"It was your goal too," I say, discounting her position.
"No," she says firmly while shaking her head. "It wasn't. Dad is always the one that pushed medical school at me, and well, I just never told him differently, that I didn't want to be a doctor."
"So you just decided not to finish the last semester of your undergrad?" I ask incredulously. "What have you been doing for the last two and a half months?"
"Working at a bar off campus," she says.
"And the money for your tuition and what Mom and Dad give you for living expenses?" I grit out.
"The tuition's been refunded; the check was sent to me. As for the living expenses...well, I've been using some of the money they put in my account each month to supplement my wages."
"They are going to fucking kill you," I mutter, but that's an exaggeration. They're not killers, but they are going to be extremely pissed at her.
"Look, Lucas," Simone says as she pushes off the couch and comes to stand in front of me. "The past three and a half years going to school have been miserable for me. I've hated it. It wasn't what I wanted. Can you imagine day in and day out being forced to do something you hated?"
I don't answer her because I'd have to agree with her, so instead I maintain a stony silence.
"Lucas," Simone says. "I need to be my own self. I've got to discover the real Simone Fournier and live my life the way I want to."
Fuck, that gets me too. Max, Malik, and I are all pursuing careers we are over the moon for. While Malik was an amazing hockey player in his own right and probably would have been professional league material, he chose to serve in the Marine Corps, as we all have dual citizenship since our mother is American. But he loves what he does so much that he's a career marine.
"Simone," I say as I put my hands on her shoulders. "Yes, you should be able to pursue your dreams and not have to settle for the dreams of others. But you know you went about this the wrong way, right? You should have told Mom and Dad all of this, and you should have done it ages ago."
"You don't think I don't know that?" she asks, tears welling up in her eyes. "The last thing in the world I'd ever want to do is to disappoint them. Especially Dad."
That's the God's honest truth. Simone as the baby of the family was doted on by both of our parents, but she was always a daddy's girl through and through.
"Okay," I say as I drop my hands from her shoulders and point at the couch. She sits and looks up at me with her hands folded in her lap. "You have three things to figure out. One, how you're going to tell them. Two, how you're going to make it right with them. Three, what you are going to do with your life."
She nods with earnest eyes and then punches me in the gut when she hesitantly asks in a quavering voice, "Will you help me, Lucas? Will you help me figure out this clusterfuck so I can lead the life I'm meant to?"
I blow out a huge gust of air because she's not completely deflated my indignation over her stupidity. "Yeah, sure. But we need to figure out one and two, like, right now. You've got to call Mom and Dad and tell them what's happening, and it has to be done now. You can stay here for a bit until we figure out three."
Simone flies off the couch and slams into me. My arms go around her and I squeeze.
"Thank you, Lucas. I love you so much."
I squeeze her again. "Love you too."
After a moment, I release her and pull out my phone with a sigh. As I prepare to call Stephanie, I mutter to Simone, "Take your bags into my room, then come back to the kitchen. We'll sit down and just get it all figured out."
"Okay," she says, all perky and bouncy now that I'm not kicking her out.
"And stay out of Van's way," I call to her as she rolls her bags down the hall. "He's grumpy."
She doesn't respond and I dial Stephanie. She answers on the second ring, and even though she knows it's me calling, she still has a formal greeting. "Hello?"
"Hey," I say as I look at my watch briefly. "Look...something's come up. Simone's decided she's not going back to school and she showed up on my doorstep about fifteen minutes ago. I've got to stay here and handle some things with her, so I'm not going to be able to make it over tonight."
She's silent for a moment before she says, "Not a problem at all. I could actually use a good night's sleep, and you, sir, take up my sleep time."
It's a funny and lighthearted comeback, but I don't hear it in her voice. I actually don't hear anything in her voice that would say she's pissed, sad, happy, angry, or indifferent, and that doesn't set well with me.
"I've got a game tomorrow night," I say hesitantly. "I wouldn't be able to come over to your place until pretty late."
What I'd really love is to invite her to the game and then have her come home with me, but this is Stephanie I'm dealing with. That would be way too much like a date, or it would acknowledge that the relationship is something other than just casual, which we both fucking know it is.
"Actually," she says quietly, and I note without any real disappointment in her voice, "I've got an interview for a job over in Greensboro after work. By the time I get back, I'm going to be whipped."
Shit. Greensboro was over an hour and a half away. If she got a job there, our relationship--casual or otherwise--is done.
"But you're still coming to the doctor's with me day after next?" she asks, and that makes me feel a little better. I'll at least be seeing her soon, although by the time the appointment rolls around, it will have been a full week since we'd been together, and well, that just sucks.
"Yeah," I say in a chipper voice. "Definitely coming to that appointment. I'll just meet you there, right?"
"Right," she says, and at least she sounds a little more enthused. "So, good luck with Simone."
I chuckle without any real humor. "Thanks, I'll need it."
"Okay...bye," she says softly, and I wonder if she was being true to her feelings would she say something like, "I miss you."
I wonder that because, fuck, I miss her and I want to tell her that, but I don't want to freak her out. So instead, I just say, "Bye, Stephy."
"Cancel a date?" Simone asks, and I hear the worry in her voice that's confirmed when I turn around to see her in the kitchen with concern on her face. "Because you should totally go on that date and we can talk later."
"It wasn't a date," I
mutter as I walk into the kitchen and pull out a chair for Simone.
She plops down in it and asks, "Was that with Stephanie?"
"Yeah, but not a date," I reiterate.
"But you like her," Simone guesses.
"Sure I do," I say evasively.
"But you don't like her, like her," she pushes at me.
"Our relationship is complicated," I mutter as I sit next to my sister. And fuck is it complicated, as it involves me having a baby with a woman I actually like very, very much, but I'm pretty sure she'll never feel the same way. "But I don't want to talk about it. We're going to fix your shit right now."
"Okay," she says, sitting up straighter.
"First, you're going to call Mom and Dad tonight and tell them you weren't enrolled this last semester and that you won't be graduating," I say firmly. Simone moves to interject something, but I hold my hand up and reiterate, "Tonight. Get it done, get it over with."
"But what do I say?" she asks with a cocked eyebrow.
"The truth. Exactly as you told it to me."
"Sounds so simple," she grumbles sarcastically as she looks away.
"That is the simple part," I tell her, and her eyes snap to mine. "You need to figure out how to make this right with them. They shelled out a shit ton of money for you to get an Ivy League education and you need to make it right."
Simone swallows and nods once. "I know, but I'm not sure how."
"You make it right by finishing," I tell her. "You finish next fall and you get that degree. Let it sit on a shelf for all I care, but you finish what Mom and Dad paid for you to have."
Simone shakes her head. "I'm not going back."
"Then what do you propose?" I ask, knowing that's really the only way she'll be able to make things right with them.
"I'll pay them back the money," she says with her chin lifted.
I bark out a laugh. "And you know how much money you're talking about? They've probably spent more than $250,000 on your education so far when you calculate tuition, books, and living expenses at Dartmouth."
"So it will be an extended-payment plan," Simone snaps at me. "But I'm not wasting another second of my life doing something that doesn't bring me happiness."