“Moll…” His face drains of all color. “I’m not asking you about that fucker. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“About what? That I fight at all? That I get hurt sometimes? Of course, I get banged up a bit. That was a serious fight for serious money.”
“No. Not that…I saw something just now. The bag you asked me to get for you…it tipped over and this fell out.”
He pulls something out of his back pocket and thrusts it into my hand.
Oh. This.
Fuck.
“You’re…Jesus, I saw the fucking pregnancy test, Molly. You’re pregnant, and you never told me?” He chokes out the words as if they physically hurt as they pass his lips.
I stare at him in disbelief. There’s no way he can know that. Even I don’t know that. I bought a test a couple of weeks back as a spur of the moment thing, but only because I felt ill. I peed on the stick but got called in to take care of a fighter, and I honestly forgot all about it. The thing must’ve fallen to the bottom of my bag. And I felt better the next day and didn’t give it a second thought.
I take a closer look at the indicator section.
Two pink lines.
It’s positive?
Jesus.
My mind is numb enough as it is, dealing with the possible concussion I just got in the ring. I’m just learning that I. May. Be. Fucking. Pregnant? And he wants me to explain the results? He saw the results before I did, for Christ’s sake. But hell, I don’t want to confess that. It doesn’t sound believable. Not even to me.
“Um, no. This has to be a mistake. A false positive,” I sputter, licking my lips and wincing as I taste blood.
“The test says your pregnant.”
“It has to be contaminated. Look, I’ll prove it. We can buy another test on the way to the clubhouse. And once you see for yourself, you’d better have a proper apology for taking me out of that fight!”
I’m mad all over again.
“Forget the damn fight. You had enough doubt in your mind to take the fucking test. And now you’re questioning the results?”
“This is bullshit. I’m on the pill… I can’t be knocked up. I’ll buy another test.”
“Fine. You’ll have to believe it then.”
“Fine, but as soon as this is over with and you see I’m not pregnant, I want you to admit you’re out of your fucking mind. I would know if I was carrying a kid around. I would know!”
I would…right?
Chapter 12
Tate
“I want to do this now, but I expect you to wait outside. I don’t pee on command. And definitely not with an audience.”
I frown and roll my eyes, stepping back when I realize I’ve followed her into the restroom stall of the grungy gas station bathroom. Molly still doesn’t believe the test results in her bag. I’m not an expert on women, but who in hell takes a pregnancy test and forgets about checking the results for two weeks? That’s her explanation? And when it turns up positive, who the hell believes it’s wrong and drops the issue? Molly has never lied to me. She didn’t come out and tell me about Jett, but I have to set aside her recent pattern of keeping secrets and trust her. It the only reason I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt right now.
This gas station is the first store on the way home. She demanded that we stop here to buy a test. Inside, she bought two, and now, she’s ready to pee on a stick so she can prove me wrong. Dammit. Part of me wants to be wrong too. She’s on the pill, but we’ve fucked bareback for months. Something tells me that I knocked her up. I just know it in my hard-as-nails, sinful, kinky soul. Or maybe that’s just the caveman in me, looking to feel virile for spawning my seed in her.
If she is, the kid is definitely mine.
I know it for a fact, and although she’ll never admit it, Molly has only been sleeping with me all this time. She believes I’ve been whoring myself out enough for the two of us.
Of course, she’d think that.
That’s been my line.
My lie.
My ego.
I’m the asshole who preferred to downplay how important she is to me. I’m the prick who waited this long to tell her she’s mine. I’m the fucker who wants to run like hell and leave her in that bathroom stall.