Roan squeezed Seg's hand. "It was a knee-jerk reaction."
"That's no excuse. I take responsibility for my actions, Roan. I'm not looking to make excuses."
The fact that Seg didn't jump at the opportunity to brush what he did under the rug made Roan love him more. As much as he wanted to guard his heart, protect himself from pain, he knew he couldn't. Not completely. That was the very reason he'd been alone before Seg. It all boiled down to the fact that Roan was scared to take a chance.
"I want this to work," Roan told him pointedly.
"Me, too." Seg's eyes left the road briefly to glance his way again. "But the only way to make that happen is to be in it together. We're both guilty of doing things our own way."
Roan knew that was true.
He also knew that he was in desperate need of having someone at his side. Sure, he had friends to see him through this, but he knew there was only one way he'd come out the other side in one piece.
And that was to have Liam and Seg with him.
After all, that was the only way he'd be truly happy.
STRESSFUL SITUATIONS TENDED TO MAKE people overreact. Then again, sometimes they did the complete opposite and came to their senses.
Seg wasn't sure which could be said for Roan's sudden one-eighty.
Now that they were at the hospital and they'd been informed by AJ-who, based on the quick rundown he'd received from Dare, was Milly's baby's father as well as Hudson's brother-that Milly's labor was going smoothly, things had calmed down somewhat.
Mostly.
Gannon seemed to be a mess, which was rather amusing, since it was obvious the guy was trying to pretend to hold it all together. The slight twitch in his left eye gave him away. Seg probably wouldn't have noticed except Gannon continued to push his glasses up on his nose, which drew attention to it.
That and the animated conversation about Roan's dad sending Milly into early labor-Dare was overly dramatic-was the reason Seg had taken Liam for a walk down the hall. Technically, Seg was doing the walking, but Liam didn't seem to mind. The little boy was doing quite well to be up so late past his bedtime. Then again, he'd slept for several hours, so maybe he simply thought it was morning.
"What's up, little guy? You ready for a … uh … " Seg didn't know what Milly's baby would be to him. Considering how close everyone was, he figured something more than a friend of the family. "We'll call it your cousin. It because we don't know the sex yet. But we will." Seg glanced at his watch. "She's been in there for hours."
Seg stopped and sat in one of the vacant chairs on the far side of the waiting room. He propped Liam on his knee so the little boy could face him.
"Do you think you'll be happy if it's a girl?" Seg teased. "She'll probably want you to play with girl toys." Seg twitched his eyebrow. "Then again, she might want to play with your cars. You do like cars, eh?"
Liam grinned, then reached for Seg's mouth. Seg kissed his knuckles.
"Okay, good. Cars are high up on the list of things you have to have."
"Boats, too."
Seg looked up to see Teague had joined him, his dog at his side, service animal vest and all.
"Boats are good," Seg agreed.
"Hudson wants him to be a mechanic."
"Ahh." Seg glanced at Liam. "So, maybe have a hobby? Hockey player by trade though. Boat mechanic in your spare time."
Teague barked a laugh that sounded a little rusty. "Don't let Hudson hear you say that. Or Noah. They're in competition to see who can recruit the kid first."
Seg didn't take his eyes off Liam. "You're a lucky kid."
"He is," Teague noted.
"So, what's with the dog?" Seg asked when Liam leaned over to grab a handful of the animal's hair.
"Service dog." Teague appeared sheepish. "Let's just say I've got abandonment issues. Hudson got him for me. He keeps me company."
Well, there was no shame in that. Seg knew better than to ask for details. It wasn't his business.
"What's his name?" Seg scratched the dog's wide head.
"Charger."
Seg took Liam's hand and showed him how to rub the dog's head.
"So what're your intentions here, hockey man?"
Smirking, Seg peered up at Teague. He figured the guy couldn't be much younger than he was. But he was definitely younger, which made the topic of conversation entertaining. He looked like a surfer just in off the water, not a care in the world. Teague was wearing baggy cargo shorts in the middle of February. His shaggy hair was long, his clothes wrinkled. The look that said he'd rather be at home, but someone had insisted he tag along. Yet he sounded like Seg's father.
"What should my intentions be?" he tossed back, trying to throw Teague off.