“I’m doing great, thanks, it’s so good to see you too,” she drawls, rolling her eyes. “The gate was open, asshole. We need to talk.”
Fuck. The feed guys must have left it open on their way out. Just my luck. This is the last thing I need on my plate today.
“No, we don’t.” I drop the bag of chicken feed back into the pile and brush my hands off on my jeans. “You need to get out of here, Savannah.”
“God, why are you being such a dick?” she scoffs, sneering at me.
I stare at her in disdain, shocked that she’d dare to say such a thing. Seriously, where does she get her attitude from?
“Maybe because you tried to derail my sister’s whole fucking life?” I shake my head in disbelief. “Or because your useless cousin tried to trick her intomarryinghim? Like that was ever going to happen. Seriously, did he think Oakley doesn’t have a brain or something? How about because you’re an asshole? Or because your whole family won’t stay the fuck away from my?—”
“This isn’t what I came to talk to you about,” she snaps, holding her hand up to stop my tirade.
Oh, fuck her. Ever since I took Oakley’s warning to stay away from her, she’s been a snide, rude little brat, and I can’t stand being around her.
“I don’t give a shit why you wanted to talk, I have nothing to say to you.”
Plain as fucking day, just the way I like it. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. I expect her face to stay sour, but it twists into a spiteful smirk. My gut flips unpleasantly before she even opens her mouth.
“I’m pregnant, Bo.”
The whole world goes silent. My heart drops straight through my stomach down to the dirt at my feet.
This isn’t how this is supposed to go. Any of this. Savannah Ward should never say those words to me, and those words shouldn’t be said with that much malice behind them. They feel like a fucking knife, aimed straight for my throat. I take a wary step back, like putting physical distance between us will somehow make it less true.
It can’t be true.
I have to swallow harshly several times to get any words out, and when I do, they come out raw and gravelly.
“Don’t know why you’re telling me. I never slept with you.”
Denial is my best bet. I won’t admit to a goddamn thing.
All I remember is waking up naked in bed next to her. My memories of that night at the party are choppy and disjointed, but I remember havingtwodrinks before everything goes black. If I don’t remember that night, why would she? She’s always been a heavyweight when it comes to liquor. I’ve seen her wasted more often than not.
Her lashes flutter as she raises a hand to tap over her heart, her face screwed up in a mockery of offense.
“Oh, now that hurts.” She grins at me in a way that makes me want to puke. No, no way in hell. “C’mon, don’t you remember our night together?”
“Must have the wrong guy in mind.” I grit my teeth and shake my head, hoping this will be the end of it. There’s too much on the line for me to deal with something like this right now. I feel sick, disgusted with myself and her. “Best of luck with that, though.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” she spits. “I’m not a fuckingwhore.”
Just my fucking luck. Of course she’d take it that way. It’s not my fault she sleeps with anyone who looks twice at her. All I meant is that I don’t have any respect for her as a person. Regardless, I don’t actually care who she sleeps with or how often.I’mnot on that list.
“I didn’t call you a whore, Jesus Christ.” I drag my hand down my face in frustration. “Just get the hell out of here. Go home, go wherever. I don’t care, just leave.”
I’m tired of listening to her, tired of pretending like this has anything to do with me. There’s a solid chance she’s justbullshitting me, and if she’s not, I have plenty of doubt that the kid ismine. She’s hooked up with at least three other guys at that party in the last month. More power to her, but I’m not taking responsibility for someone else’s fuck up.
Savannah looks surprised, blinking at me in shock before her face morphs into pure rage. She steps forward, her perfectly clean boots scuffing the dirt as she drills a finger into my chest.
I immediately feel filthy, and it has nothing to do with the dirt and chicken feed streaked over my arms.
“This conversation isnotover,” she hisses, blue eyes narrowing in fury. “You don’t get to write me off because I’m inconvenient. I’m pregnant withyourkid, and you’re goddamn well going to do the right thing. By both of us.”
She drops her hand from my chest to lay it protectively over her stomach. It’s almost funny to see, since she’s wearing cut off shorts and a crop top, and her stomach is completely flat, but the implication is horrifying enough to take all of the humor out of the situation. She seems pleased enough at watching my face blanch, and turns on her heel to march back to her car.
I stand there by the stack of feed bags, wondering how the hell things ended up this way.
