Page 1 of Honest Boys Don’t Play

CHAPTER 1

LUKE

The chill of winter still clings to the air as I let myself into the coffee shop located off campus. I’ve never been here before and I’m not sure why Bertie asked me to meet here of all places. She’s being weird. Weirder than normal at least. I thought after spending the holidays together that we were … I don’t know, friends that are potentially exploring more? But over the past couple of weeks, she’s been dodgy. Not ignoring me altogether but acting strange to say the least.

I’m not sure if she doesn’t want to see me anymore and doesn’t want to hurt me or what. I feel like it’s more than that, but I can’t put my finger on what it could be.

Spotting her in the back of the shop, I wave and she gives a soft, almost scared smile in return.

Huh. Odd.

My concern only deepens.

I step into line to order coffee and a muffin. With that look she gave me I’d like to skip it altogether, but I’m starving and need to eat something before I pass out. I skipped breakfast, because I woke up late. I woke up late because I was up obsessing over Bertie’s text to meet here to talk. And then I had to go straight to practice where I burned an insane number of calories before coming here. The muffin will hardly be enough, but it’s better than nothing.

I take a deep breath as I move up in line.

My thoughts are spiraling, an unfortunate habit with my OCD, especially when I’m stressed or worried. It’s safe to say I’m both.

When it’s finally my turn to give my order, I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin.

I eye Bertie in the corner when I move over to wait at the counter. She taps her fingers against her cup, her eyes glued out the window to the street beyond. She looks paler than normal, her eyes a little hollow. Is she sick?

Fuck, what if it’s something serious? What if she has cancer or some other disease and she’s going to die?

By the time my order is ready, I’m not sure I can even eat. I grab my drink and muffin and set them on Bertie’s table. Pulling out the chair, I sit down across from her and yank off my beanie.

“Hey,” I say, my eyes raking over her now that I can study her more closely. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi,” she replies, her smile faltering.

My brows furrow when she doesn’t address my question.

“What’s up?” I ask, eyeing my muffin. Despite the fact I need to eat, I find that the last thing I want is this stupid muffin I just bought. Cardboard might be more appealing. At least it would give me something to nervously gnaw on.

Bertie tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and looks out the window. She exhales a shaky breath, and trembling fingers wrap around her cup. My eyes zero in on her nails. The pink shade is chipped, which is odd because they’re always freshly done.

She wets her lips with her tongue. “Y-You remember our night together during Christmas break?” She bites her lip, and her gaze holds mine for barely a millisecond before it drops to the table.

“Of course I remember,” I laugh in surprise. Does she think I could possibly forget what it felt like to have her again? We hooked up our freshman year before she started dating a major douchebag named Tommy. While we went our separate ways, I never forgot her. There’s something about Bertie that’s drawn me in from the start. Not only because she’s beautiful, but because it seems like there’s much more to her than is on the surface. “What does that have to do with⁠—”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurts, tears pooling in her eyes.

She’s…what?

“Pregnant?”

“Yeah.” She sniffles. “I’m almost fourteen weeks now. And I know what you’re probably thinking, the dates don’t line up, but they said they count the weeks based on your last period and … the whole thing hurts my brain to be honest, but yeah, I’m pregnant. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, really fucking sorry, but I…” She forces herself to meet my eyes. “I needed to time to wrap my head around this and sort through my own feelings.” She bites her lip and in a choked voice says, “I’m scared.”

I lean back in my chair and scrub a hand over my jaw.

Pregnant?

When she asked me to meet her here that wasn’t at all what I was expecting to hear.

“You’re having a baby?” I ask like somehow framing the question in a different way will result in a different answer. “We’re having a baby?”

She nods and I can’t help but notice the shadows beneath her eyes that even her makeup can’t hide. It looks like she’s barely been sleeping. “Yeah, we are. Can I have a bite of that?” She points to my muffin and I nod. She rips off a piece and pops it in her mouth. “I haven’t been eating much,” she admits. “Morning sickness is a bitch. The other morning, I threw up just from brushing my teeth.”