“She’s pregnant.”
“What?” I had not expected that at all.
“Yeah, I know. Surprise!” Her tone was sarcastic but her expression worried.
“Holy crap. She’s gonna have it?” I asked.
Gianna spun, facing me. “Do you think she shouldn’t?”
“I didn’t say that. I just thought with her dancing and them being seventeen, she might be inclined in that direction.”
“Well, obviously the academy is out.”
Damn, Dante was going to be a dad. What a nightmare. Then again, if I could knock up Gianna maybe I’d get forever. “What would you have done?”
She avoided my eyes, her cheeks turning the prettiest shade of pink. “If I got pregnant?”
“With my baby,” I clarified.
She waited so long, I didn’t think she’d answer. Finally, she said softly, “I would have kept it.”
If that didn’t give a guy hope....
“Are you fucking Gage?” I blurted, needing to know but at the same time dreading confirmation.
“Jeez, Caleb! None of your business! I don’t ask about who you’re screwing.” She got back into her Jeep, locking the doors before I could do follow.
She didn’t unlock them until Cece returned from her talk with Dante. They were all lovey dovey with smiles, but I saw the strain in my friend’s eyes as he kissed her goodbye.
On our way to eat lunch as his house, he let me know how he really felt. “I almost wish she’d broken up with me instead.”
“And I wish I’d knocked up Gianna instead,” I replied, reminding him that I still had it worse.
“My parents are going to kill me,” he groaned.
Yes, his mom would be especially worked up over the prospect of becoming a grandparent so early. “They may smack you around, but they’ll love your baby.”
“I gotta get a job.” He sat up straighter, his dark eyes wild. “And buy a ring.”
“First you have to ask her dad permission,” I joked, amused by his panic.
His head snapped in my direction. “Her dad is going to kick my ass. I knocked up his baby girl and ended her dancing career before it even started.”
“Jared will probably hold you down for him.”
“I’m a dead man,” he whispered, making me laugh.
“You could always ask for a job at their restaurant,” I suggested.
“I like Mexican food,” he mumbled.
“Obviously,” I drawled, earning a punch in the arm.
To take his mind off dawning parenthood, I changed the subject. “I need you to find out something for me....”
*****
My dad inserted a key, turning the doorknob to let us into the house. “It’s small, but bigger than the condo.”
I trailed him inside, taking a look around his new home. He’d sold the condo in Northglenn and closed on a three bedroom house in Englewood, near the high school I’d be attending in August. It’d be nice not to have to make the drive from my mom’s apartment.
Everything was outdated inside, from the carpet to the kitchen. “It’ll do,” I told him, not caring that we’d be living in the ‘70s. “Can I have the master bedroom?”
“No,” he answered, his mouth pulling up at one corner.
“I had to try.” Taking the stairs two at a time, I found my room upstairs. It faced the street and was surprisingly spacious. I’d still get my own bathroom, but it’d be down the hall. My dad informed me the third bedroom would be his office, but I could do whatever I wanted to the finished basement.
I ventured down there next, deciding in my head where the television and couch would go. I’d find a couple armchairs and maybe a pool table off Craigslist. The couch would have to be new since I planned on having Gianna on it. In the far corner I’d set up an easel and shelving. The drive to paint wasn’t only about an outlet anymore. I needed the money to provide for Gianna in the future and I wanted to give my girl the world.
Just had to get rid of Gage first.
Remembering my task, I pulled out my phone to shoot Hailey a text. I know where Gage will be tomorrow night.
This doesn’t make me a slut, right? Just a good friend.
It totally made her a slut. Of course not. You’re an awesome friend.
An awesome friend would do it for free. But then I’d be a shitty friend for asking in the first place. It was a good thing Hailey and I weren’t friends anymore.
Feeling a little bit evil for my scheming, I put my phone away and met my dad in the kitchen upstairs. “So, are we moving stuff in tomorrow?”
My dad slapped me on the back. “Tonight!”
Great, manual labor on a Saturday night.