“Congrats.”
She takes a deep breath. “You, too.”
“Oh, we don’t know what we’re having yet.”
“With Aubrey, maybe. But youaregonna have a son.”
“I don’t see how you could poss?—”
“You really haven’t figured it out, have you?”
Stiffening, I frown. “Figured what out?”
“Hunter, c’mon,” she cajoles, rubbing her round belly. “We hooked up a little over five months ago, and I’m pregnant. I haven’t slept with anyone other than you in almost a year. I’m sure even you can put two and two together.”
Her words register, and everything clicks into place. “It’s mine,” I say, not meaning for it to come out as a statement.
“He is.”
“You’re pregnant with my baby?”
“Yes, Hunter, I am.”
“You keep calling me Hunter. Why?”
Ivory shrugs. “When I’m talking to the father of my child, I’m gonna use his real name.”
“Okay, yeah, I’m good with that.” As the news settles, anger surfaces. “Were you ever gonna tell me?”
“That I’m pregnant?”
The more I think about it, the more enraged I become. “No, that you’re a woman,” I snap. “Yes, that you’re pregnant.”
“I wan?—”
“Never mind,” I bite out. “I forgot who I was talking to.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the same chick who ran out on me the morning after because you were too ashamed to have slept with a biker.” I scoot out of the booth and stand. Yanking my wallet out of my back pocket, I grab two twenties and toss them on the table. “If you think for one second that you’re gonna keep my son from me, think again.”
And with that, I storm out of the diner, ignoring the stares of other patrons.
It’s not lost on me that I didn’t for one second question whether or not Ivory was telling the truth about the baby being mine. There’s just something about her that screamshonesty.But then I remember that she lied about one pretty big thing.
What the fuck am I gonna do now?
CHAPTER 21
IVORY
What just happened?
Shock fills me as I watch Spike storm down the sidewalk and hop on his bike. He never even glances my way as he speeds off. I take a moment and gather myself, thankful that he wanted to sit at the back because no one can see my tear-stricken face. I pull my compact out of my purse and gently blot powder around my eyes to dull the run in my mascara.
I should’ve worn the waterproof kind. Nothing I can do about it now. Lesson for next time…
There won’t be a next time. Never again will I let this man hurt me.
