Page 24 of The Great Gatsby

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Page 24 of The Great Gatsby

No.

I didn’t even hear her words as air whooshed through my head. But I could read her lips—and her fucking belly—loud and clear.

I shook my head. “Fuck.”

“It’s yours,” she said.

“Mine?” My voice sounded off.

“Yes, yours.” She sighed again. “Look, I know it’s a lot. A shock. It was for me, too.”

I glanced down at her stomach. At her fucking bump. “Looks like you’ve had a while to get over your shock.”

“You don’t have to be a dick, you know,” she said, her tone harsh.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say right now. I mean, how did this even happen? And you’re obviously keeping it.” I gestured toward her stomach, feeling like a grade-A asshole when she flinched. But what did she expect? This conversation had me off the rails. I’d thought she was coming over to hook up, not to tell me that she was knocked up, and I’d done the fucking knocking.

Fucking hell.

She took a step back. “Yes, I’m keeping it. Her. I’m keeping her. It’s a girl, by the way. And I’m telling you because that’s the right thing to do. I don’t need or want anything from you. This is just a courtesy call. We will be fine without you.”

She glared at me, her arms folding to rest just above her bump.

Her fuckingbump.

I was going to have a kid. A fucking kid.

I shook my head.

“Don’t shake your head at me. I have every right to keep her. I’m the one that’s pregnant,” she bit out.

I met her gaze. “What? No. Fuck. Still processing, okay? I wore a condom.”

“Yeah. And I was on the Pill. But neither are one hundred percent effective.”

“Yes, they are,” I shot back.

“No. They aren’t.”

“They should put that on the label,” I muttered.

She quirked a brow. “Pretty sure they do. And it doesn’t matter now because I’m pregnant.” She pressed down on her dress, cupping underneath her belly to further make her point, like I needed it or something. She looked beautiful all fired up. Her cheeks were pink—and were her breasts fuller? Or were they just straining because she was breathing heavily and trying to resist punching me?

For fuck’s sake, man. Get it together.

“Yeah, I got that,” I rasped out. Fuck. Was my throat closing up? Like anaphylactic shock or some shit? Maybe I was having a panic attack.

She put her hands on her hips. “I’m going to go. I told you, and you can figure out where you want to go from here while you deal with your shock. I won’t stop you from being in her life, but you can’t be in it if you’re going to be an asshole about it or make her feel like she’s not wanted.”

I froze as her words hit me. “Ally.” I couldn’t stop myself from reaching toward her.

She shifted away. “Don’t touch me right now.” She blew out a breath. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. I mean, she’s not a mess. Ugh, I need to go. You know how to find me.”

Then she put her hand on the doorknob to leave.

“Ally, I guess we probably should talk. I mean—” I cupped the back of my neck and squeezed. “Fuck. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“That’s for you to figure out. I have two days left in Denver for my conference, and then I’m flying home. Only Darcy knows that you’re the father, and she’s been sworn to secrecy until I’m ready to tell people. If I tell people. I mean, we aren’t a couple, and we never really were. We just had some fun times, and now I’m pregnant, but I’m happy about it. You never made it a secret that you didn’t want kids whenever the topic came up years ago.”


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