Olly peeks over and pats her back. “Poor girl. She was crying when we found her.”
Gabby shoots me a dirty look. “No one could hear her, though, because the music was so damn loud.”
Olly chuckles. “Until you got here and yanked the sound system out of the wall.”
It hits me like a Mac truck on I-10.
“If this is someone’s idea of a joke, I’m gonna bust your balls when I figure out who did this.” I look around the room, but no one pipes up. And what really troubles me is the rest of the guys look just as perplexed as I feel. “Where’s Tank?” He’s good at sniffing out pranksters and liars.
I turn to Olly since he always knows everyone’s business.
“He’s at Bree’s tonight. You know he doesn’t stay here when we party.”
Tank says he doesn’t want to put himself in a situation where he might drink too much and do something stupid that would fuck up his relationship. Seems kinda extreme in my opinion, but no one asked me.
“Call him. Tell him we need to have a household meeting.”
“Chief, it’s four-thirty in the morning.”
“Olly, I’m well aware of the time. And unless you’re offering to accept paternity of our little visitor, I highly suggest you call Tank. In fact, tell him to bring Bree.”
She has her shit together. If we all put our heads together, maybe we can figure this out.
8
RIDER
Several hours later,and we’re definitely not any closer to figuring this out. We got rid of the rest of the people at the party.
Someone made coffee. My roommates and I are sitting around the living room, bleary-eyed and annoyed. I called off my study session, and the guys cancelled their immediate plans. Gabby had to call in to her job at the coffee house.
If this is a joke, someone has a sick sense of humor.
I tip back my cup of coffee, wishing I had gone to bed earlier last night.
After insisting that the couch be covered with a blanket because she questioned our hygiene, Gabby and Poppy eventually settled there, where they both fell asleep.
“They’re pretty sweet, all snuggled up,” Tank whispers.
I stare at the baby, who’s drooling all over my neighbor. They are pretty cute.
Bree pokes me in my shoulder. “This is going on too long for it to be a prank. No one with any sense would leave a baby at the football house.”
“So we’re just supposed to accept what was in the note? That she belongs to one of us?” I don’t state the obvious—that it’s fucking insane.
Could one of the guys have knocked up some girl? Sure. But did this happen and none of us have a clue? Only for this mystery woman to leave her on our doorstep like a damn Amazon package? Doubtful.
Gabby stretches with a quiet groan while still somehow keeping Poppy cuddled comfortably. She peeks through tiny slits, like it’s painful to open her eyes. “I think you guys should take the note seriously.”
Her brother laughs dryly. “There’sno waythat kid is mine.”
“How do you know?” Gabby sits up straighter. Her voice is raspy with sleep. She sounds sexy as hell. If this weren’t a totally fucked-up situation, I’d spend this morning appreciating her smoking-hot cleavage in that getup. “Pretty sure you don’t remember the name of the girl you were hooking up with a few hours ago when I walked in here. How do you knowfor surewho you banged, what, a year and a half ago?”
I’m almost afraid to ask what she saw when she stormed into our house last night.
Ben scowls but doesn’t respond.
She makes a good point. Unfortunately.
