His gaze sharpened. “I’m assuming you haven’t made up your mind or you plan on keeping the baby, because why else would you have told me. You could’ve just . . . you could’ve handled it without me ever knowing.”
“I couldn’t do that without talking to you.” My mouth felt dry, and I looked away. Everything seemed so . . . so real, which was stupid, because everything was real.
“You haven’t decided then?” He lurched to his feet and his hand went through his hair again. A moment passed. “Do you even want kids?” A choked laugh rattled out of him. “Fuck. Listen to us.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I know.”
“Do you?” he persisted.
“Yes. I want kids.” I forced my eyes open just in time to catch a flicker of relief crossing his face. “But I thought I had time and I’d be married first. Or at least . . .”
“In love? With someone?”
I blinked and then whispered, “Yeah.”
Nick’s features softened before he dipped his chin. His shoulders rose with a deep breath. “I can take care of this baby—I can take care of you, Stephanie.”
Holy crap.
My eyes widened, and I swore that my heart might’ve faltered a beat. “I don’t need you to take care of me, Nick. That’s not—”
“I know that’s not why you told me and I didn’t mean it like that. I know you probably don’t think much of me—”
“What?” My brows lifted. “That’s not true.”
He went on as if he hadn’t heard me. “—being that I bartend, but I can support you and this baby. I will. That’s not something you need to worry about.”
“How can I not?” The question escaped me before I could stop it.
“Trust me,” he said earnestly.
My stomach roiled. He was asking for some major trust there, but in the end, whether or not he could help support this child wasn’t going to determine if I kept this baby. Nick was right earlier, but it still hadn’t prepared me for his willingness to do this.
Nick actually wanted this baby.
A knot took form in my throat as emotions swirled violently inside me. Normally I was so in control, but everything that was going on had blown through my defenses. Unable to sit, I stood, and before I knew it I was in the kitchen, one hand on the edge of the counter and the other tugging at the collar of my shirt. It felt hot in here. Maybe I shouldn’t have cranked the heat up so much.
“Are you okay?” Nick’s voice was close.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t plan on getting pregnant. Obviously. And this couldn’t have happened at a worse time, and I feel shitty for even saying that, but I just started a new job and there is so much I want to do—planned to do—before having a child. I wanted to travel. I wanted to be stable . . .” Well, the rest of what I wanted was right in everyone’s face. “And I . . .”
A hand gently settled on my shoulder, turning me around. I swallowed hard as I lifted my gaze. Light green eyes bored into mine. “And what?” Nick asked.
“I didn’t plan on this,” I repeated as my heart thumped in my chest. “But I want this . . . I want this baby.”
Something I couldn’t quite read flickered in his eyes as he wrapped his hand around my wrist, pulling my fingers away from the collar of my shirt. “Then we’re on the same page.”
“We are,” I whispered as my gaze dropped to where he still held my wrist between us. “This . . . this isn’t going to be easy, Nick.”
“There isn’t anything about what is happening that’s going to be easy. You didn’t have any siblings, right?” When I shook my head, a wry grin appeared. “Neither do I. Any experience with babies?”
My heart was doing that horrible pounding again. “Nope.”
“Me neither.”
“Oh geez.”
Nick laughed, and I couldn’t believe he could laugh right now. “It can’t be that hard.”
“I’m going to have to thoroughly disagree with that,” I said wryly.
“We’ll figure this out.” His eyes searched mine when I lifted my gaze. “We will. You and I. Together. We can do this.”
Together.
That one word was like having my entire chest placed inside a juice grinder. Together. Besides my mom and my friends, when had I ever approached anything in unity with someone else—with a guy? Not since high school, and really, one couldn’t count that as an example.
My thoughts were still whirling and the knot was lodged in my throat, going nowhere. How I planned my entire life had veered off course in one of the most important ways. I had no idea what to expect now, not a week or a month from now, especially not a year from now.
Everything had changed, and I was . . .
“I’m scared,” I whispered as my chest squeezed.
Nick didn’t respond. Not vocally. The hand on my shoulder slid around to the nape of my neck as he dropped my other hand. Without saying a word, he hauled me against his chest and his arms circled me. Stiffening in his hold, I inhaled deeply. He smelled fresh, like spring, and as he dropped his chin to the top of my head, I slammed my eyes shut against the burn.
But I wasn’t just scared of having a baby. God, that did scare the living hell out of me, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be a good mother, if I would raise a kid right, but the fear swirling around in me like a dusty, dark cloud was twofold.
Because as I stood there, stiff and awkward, my arms clamped to my sides, in Nick’s embrace, it was hard—too hard—to look at him objectively. To separate the situation we were in and how that made me feel toward Nick, and what had existed between us before I found out that I was pregnant.