Baller’s Baby(11)

I can’t explain it, but knowing he hadn’t just vanished, that there was a reason he didn’t show up and didn’t call, made me feel good. Obviously, I didn’t want him dead. I’d never wish that on anyone. Kiptyn stands rooted to the same spot. The look on his face tears at my resolve. I want to jump from the cab and run back up his drive, throw my arms around him, and make all his pain go away, but I can’t. He was Camryn's brother. Whatever could have been between us is over. Gone.

My heart shatters. I rub the heel of my palm against my chest to push the pain away, but it doesn’t work. My breath catches in the base of my throat. I push it out, and a pain-filled cry echoes the interior of the cab. The driver glances back at me, pity clear in the hard lines of his face. No doubt, he thinks we had a spat. Or worse, maybe he’s a regular at Kiptyn’s and thinks I’m another of his discarded women. The answer to my unspoken question comes a second later.

“Don’t cry, miss. He ain't worth it. Plenty more in the sea . . . maybe not so rich, but still.” His choppy English does nothing to soften the blow his words deal. I want to tell him to mind his own fucking business. I want to scream at him and tell him to go to fucking hell and leave me alone, that it isn’t like that, but the words won’t come. Pulling my legs up on the seat, I curl in around myself, letting the pain of his loss crash over me.

It isn’t until I’m sitting on the couch, going over everything with Lisa, that I realize that the loss I cried over wasn’t for Camryn. I'd miss him, of course, and I hate to think that he will never get the chance to live his life, to fall in love and have a family.

No, the loss I feel is for Kiptyn. I’ve known him less than a week—if you don’t count the run-in at the club—and already my heart has betrayed me, falling hard and fast for him. It has nothing to do with his money or fame. It’s so much more. The sweetness he carries inside of himself, the fact that he still looks out for people from his past and helps strangers in bars, the way he held me and touched me. The list goes on and on.

“It's going to be okay, Sky.” Lisa tries to calm me, but she can't. I’m not upset. I’m devastated.

“How, Lisa? How is it going to be ok? The man is dead.” My words are louder than I intend, but I need her to explain to me how she thinks it's going to be ok.

“I know that, but you had already let him go. You’ve already moved on. I don’t get why you’re so upset. Did you love him?” she asks, and now I understand. She thinks I’m hurting over Amryn . . . Camryn.

“It's not him, Lisa. No, I didn’t love him.” I let out a harsh laugh. “I didn’t even know him.”

“Then what’s wrong, babe?”

“It’s Kiptyn. I . . . I can't explain it. My heart hurts for him. It was his brother, Lisa. I can't imagine. What if I lost Devan or Jax? I’d die, right then and there.”

“Are you falling in love with him?”

The knowing look on her face mocks me. She’s always looking for love in someone’s actions. The poor girl sits around reading romance novels by the truckload, hoping one of the imaginary book boyfriends will magically come to life and sweep her off her feet.

Normally, I pity her. Normally, I laugh and joke back with her, telling her she reads too much or that true love doesn’t exist. Not today. Today, I sit silently on the couch a foot away from her, my head tucked into the crease of my elbow against the side arm, trying and failing to choke my sobs back down. I don’t have to say a word today, because she already knows.

I’m crazy about a man that I can't have. Even if I was willing to try to date the brother of my deceased ex . . . boyfriend? There is no way he would. I saw it in the look he gave me when he realized who I was. He would never touch me again. It’s over.

My stomach rolls with nausea. Clamping a hand over my mouth, I race to the bathroom, puking up everything I have inside of me. How on earth has my life become this? Maybe it’s time for me to admit defeat and move back to Atlanta.

No, screw that. I can do this. I'll find a way to make it work here in LA. First thing tomorrow, I'll start looking for a new job. There’s no way Mr. Ames is going to let me keep mine, especially if I didn’t produce that exclusive interview I had promised him, but I’m one hell of a reporter and I can land another job. It probably won’t be with a paper as large as the Los Angeles Daily Home, but as long as it pays the bills, I’m happy.

With some semblance of a game plan, I crawl in between the silky soft sheets covering my bed and beg the Sandman to come visit me soon. I need all the help I can get to forget tonight. If only his magical sand could make me forget Kiptyn Price, then I'd be in heaven.





Chapter Fifteen

Kiptyn



I should have never let her leave. I should have demanded she sit there on the couch and talk all this shit out. Fuck. Now what do I do? I’m on edge. My whole body is swarming with nerves. How it is possible that the one fucking woman I want is already taken by my fucking dead brother? Fate is playing some fucked up joke on me. It has to be. I picture him, her, them—what the fuck ever—rolling in the floor, laughing their ass off at me right now. Well, I’ve got news for you, bastard.

I.

Don’t.

Lose.

I’ll play your sick, twisted game, and I'll kick your ass at it.

Running my hands through my hair, I stomp up the drive. I need a fucking drink and a cold shower. I had her in my fucking arms, my lips on her delicate chocolate skin, and I fucking let her get away. Well, technically, she ran away. Again.

When I pass my slick, blue Audi R8, I hear a ringing noise. I stop, listening. There is definitely something ringing inside my car. Opening the driver’s door, I spot Skila’s heels and handbag. I smile. She’ll have to see me now. Her phone is ringing again. I open her handbag and pull it out. Lisa is calling. Swiping left on the screen, I answer.

“Hello,” she says.

“Hey. Sky left her bag here.”

I don’t say anything else. I don’t know what to say. I wait to see what her best friend has to say, knowing that will tell me more than anything else whether I still have a chance.

“Oh,” she pauses, thinking. I hear a door shut and imagine her walking outside so she can let loose on me without Skila hearing. “I’ll tell her I found her phone . . . when you bring it over tomorrow. Bring coffee,” she says and hangs up.

I want to fist bump whatever god is on my side tonight, but I hold it back, not wanting to rub my small victory in the face of the fates. At least now, I know there is still a chance, no matter how small. I’ll win her back if it's the last thing I do. It’s funny how much my life has changed over the course of the last three weeks. I don’t even remember the last time I went out or the last bitch I brought home. None of the countless women across the country matter to me anymore. Only one.

My Midnight Sky.

Walking back inside, I feel lighter, happier. I have hope for a brighter future. I toss Skila’s handbag on the counter next to her heels and head to the refrigerator to grab a beer, but I don’t make it. A strange voice fills my kitchen, startling me. I whip back around, wondering who the hell is here, before I realize its coming from Skila’s phone. I must have bumped someone’s number when I set it down. Picking it up, I glance down to see who I accidentally called, but its connected to voicemail. About that time, the words coming across the line register and I’m stuck standing there, dumbfounded.

“Miss Parker. This is Rachael with Dr. Banks. I’ve got your blood results in, and I’m happy to inform you that you do not have the flu. You’re pregnant. Congratulations. Call the office as soon as possible to set up a prenatal appointment.”

I press replay three times, and I can't fucking believe it.

She’s pregnant.

I have no doubt exactly whose baby it is. If Camryn were here, I'd punch his fucking lights out for making her go through this shit alone. She deserves better, but no, he had to go off and get himself fucking killed, the bastard. I can't imagine how she’s going to feel when she hears the news. Her world already came crashing in around her tonight. This is just the fucking icing on the cake. I hate the idea of her hurt, afraid and alone. I don’t understand it, but over the last few weeks, this woman has completely invaded me. She has conquered my restless soul and made me feel, for once, that there is more to life than playing ball and fucking bitches.

I'll be there for her. I'll be there for her and her unborn child. It's the least I can do. Hell, it’s all I want to do. Now that I know she’s pregnant, no other thought has room in my mind. Clouds overhead part, letting the moon shine down on me, and I imagine it’s Camryn offering me his blessing from his place high in the heavens. I’ve got this. I can do this. How hard will it be to raise a kid? Shit, I make enough money that I can pay someone to do it for me—not that I would. My brother’s baby deserves better than that. Skila deserves more than that. I’ll be the best fucking daddy in the world.

Walking back in my front door, another thought suddenly hits me. So out of the blue, I almost double over with the pain the thought alone causes me. What if she decides to abort? What if she doesn’t want kids, or what if she just doesn’t want Camryn's kid? I can’t blame her if she doesn’t. The father is dead. As far as she knows, she’ll be going at it all alone.