We hung out. Ordered food. Called some friends. Went swimming. Shit got rowdy, rowdier than usual, even for us.
“Knox, remember that party we had? It was like late June. And some girl made those ‘special’ brownies.”
He groans. “Bro, I had like a dozen and woke up passed out in some lady’s garden down the street buck-ass naked with some daisies decorating my nut sack.”
I nod slowly as I feel the blood drain from my face. During the season, we’re pretty good about abstaining from anything illegal since we’re randomly drug-tested. No one wants to get kicked off the team. Since that was the summer, though, none of us were worried.
What I told the guys last weekend was true. I never mess around without a condom.
But that assumes I’m fucking conscious.
I clear my throat. “Is it possible we ended up with one of the girls that night…?”
The room goes silent. Only Knox, Olly, and I were around that weekend.
Ben lets out a sigh. “Thank God I had to go to that wedding.”
Olly’s eyes bug out. “I forgot about that party.”
“The shit we ate was so strong, I forgot that whole weekend,” I admit as the front door slams shut and Gabby enters the room.
Guess with all of her coming and going due to Poppy, she’s made herself at home.
She glances around the room. “I feel like I’m interrupting something.”
Bree scoots over and makes room for her on the couch next to Olly. “I think the guys might have pinpointed the weekend of conception. Ben was out of town, so now we’re potentially down to Rider, Olly, and Knox. But Ben, you should double-check your printout.”
He nods, but it’s clear from his expression that he thinks he’s out of the woods.
Gabby gives her brother a weak smile. “Okay, well, before we look at the results, Bree and I wanted to let you all know we’re happy to help out regardless of who’s the father.”
Olly hooks an arm around her shoulder and hugs her tightly. “You’re awesome, in case we haven’t told you lately. None of us would’ve survived this week without you and Bree.”
Gabby’s face flushes, and she gives him a shy smile. “Thanks.”
The fuck?
I wanna peel my teammate off Gabby, one broken finger at a time. I’m also kicking myself for not complimenting her. Of course those are wordsIshould’ve offered on my and my roommates’ behalf. I’m the captain of the damn team. I’m just always thrown off balance around this woman.
And right now, she has a pen tucked into a messy bun, a skinny black skirt, heels.Is that a Bugs Bunny Band-Aid on her knee?
I resume my perusal of her hot little body. Her tits are pressing against those white buttons on her top. She’s lithe in all the right places and deliciously curved in others.And she’s about to read paternity results, of all things.I can’t figure out if I want to fuck her on the coffee table or duck out the back door.
She clears her throat as she hands out folded pieces of paper with our names written in what must be her handwriting. “Don’t kill the messenger, okay?”
Knox rips it open, jumps up, and howls, a giant grin lighting his face. Fuck. I was really hoping Poppy was his.
In my periphery, Olly gives Knox a high-five, and my stomach tilts. I tear open my sheet and scan the results.
Mother: Not tested
Alleged Father: Probability of paternity 99.99999%
Goddamn it.
I crumple the paper in my fist. It takes me several deep breaths before I can look up.
Everyone is watching me with varying degrees of concern and pity in their eyes.
