Probably to celebrate his win last week.
Billy’s response almost makes me smile.You love crashing parties. You can handle it.
A second later, he sends another one.
Don’t let him off the hook. You got this. And if you don’t, like I said, I’m happy to relay the message.
When Billy’s message disappears, I stare at the dark screen.
That sinking feeling in my belly makes me wonder if I picked the wrong guy last fall.
How did I get tricked by Ezra’s bullshit?
He and I were supposed to be more than friends with benefits. Except he was secretive as hell with his phone.
Some of his teammates call Ezra “Easy” because of how well he plays QB.
Well, that’s not the only easy thing about him.
Despite my growing urge to tuck tail and run, with the draft looming I can’t hold off telling him about my pregnancy any longer. Not that I expect him to stick around for me, but maybe he’d want to for the baby.
Or you’re being delusional, Roxanne. That’s a strong possibility.
Shoving that thought down, I zip my jacket as I wonder how much longer this coat will fit me.How am I going to do my broadcast journalism course next year while toting around a baby?I’ve already given up cheerleading, and if I look like a beached whale when school starts next fall, that doesn’t bode well for my future in front of a camera.
Dreading every step, I make my way up the long driveway lined with cars. Ezra’s parents have a pretty two-story colonial in a nice part of town.
A wave of nausea washes over me, and I swallow hard. Cold sweat builds along my back and under my arms, and my stomach feels like it might drop out of my ass at any minute. I say a prayer I don’t shit my pants in front of Ezra’s family.
After I knock, an older woman wearing Ezra’s jersey opens the door with a smile. “Hi! Welcome! You must be one of Ezra’s friends. I’m his mom Beth.”
“Hi, Beth. I’m Roxy.”
“Come in! I’m so glad you could make it. My son swore none of his friends could come to our little shindig, which seemed so strange. I mean, our boy just won the big game!”
It is strange Ezra didn’t invite his teammates to his party. He’s the damn captain, the starting quarterback, one of the best in the country, and one of the most popular guys on campus. People kiss his ass everywhere he goes.
I’m caught off guard by his mother’s warmth. Ezra always goes radio silent when he’s gone home over breaks, and I’vewondered if his parents were strict. But judging by Beth’s welcoming smile, that’s not the reason Ezra blew me off.
“Everyone’s in the den,” she says. “The beer is in the cooler. If you’re over twenty-one, feel free to take one. If not, there’s one full of soda too. I’m so glad you could make it to his special day.”
Special day?I thought his birthday was in the spring.
“Thank you.” I force a smile and make my way to the back of the house. I expect to see Bronco stuff everywhere, not pink and gold balloons.
About twenty people mill around, and along the back is a long table with a huge cake and tons of food.
Standing next to the cake is Ezra.
With his arm wrapped around a woman.
I freeze when I see them. Because based on the way he’s holding her, she’s not family.
This was a bad idea.
I start to back out of the room, but bump into a large man with a barrel chest. “Hey there! My wife said you’re here to see the happy couple.”
Dear God, what did I walk into? Before I can say anything, Ezra’s dad shouts across the room. “Son! You have a visitor! Come say hi.”
