Dallas

“Now, there’s a sight for sore eyes.”

Hudson’s voice sends a rumble through my skull. I had too many drinks and bombs thrown at me last night. The way he sluggishly climbs up the stairs and collapses into the red rocking chair next to me tells me he didn’t get much sleep either. Hopefully, for a better reason than mine.

“You’re on my shit list,” he grumbles.

I point to his rib cage that’s exposed by his cutoff T-shirt. “Those scratches of anger or pleasure?”

He holds up his arm and inspects the skin with an amused, almost boyish smile. “Pleasure. Most definitely pleasure.”

I never thought I’d see him happy again after his ex dumped him for his best friend while he was stationed overseas, but Stella came along and changed everything.

“Then, I beg to differ that I’m on your shit list. Had you slept on the couch, I’d feel sorry for you, but from those marks, I’m positive you didn’t. End of discussion.” I hand him the extra cup of coffee I poured while waiting for him to show up, certain he’d make an appearance this morning.

“Not end of discussion. Stella ran off at the ass crack of dawn to gossip at Lauren’s because you knocked up her best friend.”

“Fine, I owe you one. I’ll mow your grass. Work one of your shifts.”

“You going to tell me what went down?”

I snort. “I see Stella isn’t the only gossip enthusiast in your home.”

He scratches his unshaved cheek. “She’s rubbing off on me.”

I drum my fingers against the wooden arm of my chair. “Willow didn’t deny she was pregnant, so I’d say that confirms it.”

The words I’m pregnant never left her mouth, but she would’ve been hell-bent on denying it if it weren’t true. She’s spent years working with Stella’s publicist, making up stories to clean up gossip about Stella. She would’ve had a good-ass comeback if it weren’t true. Hell, I’m surprised she didn’t have an excuse already laid out, waiting for when shit hit the fan.

“And?” he pushes.

“There’s a possibility I’m the father.”

“A possibility? She seemed pretty damn sure about it last night.”

She still does.

“What if it’s not mine though?”

“You and I both know, Willow isn’t like that or a liar. Stella swears Willow hasn’t slept with anyone but you in months.” He chuckles. “Trust me, from the look on her face, she wishes it were someone else’s.”

I scrub my hand over my face, hoping it’ll help clear my head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He laughs. “Get prepared, brother. This is happening whether you like it or not.”

“We’re talking today, figuring shit out.”

“The first shit should be, figuring out the living situation. That was my biggest struggle with Stella. Blue Beech was out of her comfort zone, and LA was out of mine.”

LA was once my home. I didn’t mind leaving Blue Beech years ago when Lucy asked, but that’s no longer an option. Maven needs to be here with my family. I need the support from them. Willow, on the other hand, is stubborn. I can’t picture her packing up her life and moving away from the chaos of the city life.

“Stella changed,” I argue, trying to convince myself that it could work.

“She did, but that doesn’t stop Willow from begging her to move back every time they talk.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. I’m going to have my work cut out for me.

Hudson slaps my shoulder and gets up. “Good luck. Let me know if you need anything, but try to wait a few hours, okay? I have a beautiful fiancée waiting at home for me, hopefully wearing nothing but her engagement ring.”

* * *

“What do you mean, she’s not here?” I ask, standing in Lauren’s doorway and feeling a sense of déjà vu from last night. It seems like I’ve done nothing but chase Willow around since Hudson broke the news.

“I mean, she’s not here,” Lauren repeats, shuffling backward to let me in.

“Goddamn it,” I mutter, rushing into her apartment like a madman.

My first pit stop is her bathroom to pull back the shower curtain. All clear. Next is Lauren’s closet. Then, underneath her bed. No sign of Willow.

“She promised,” I repeat over and over again while checking the linen closet. “She fucking promised.”

Lauren meets me in the living room with an apologetic face. “I’m guessing she called a cab and bailed while I was in the shower.”

I collapse on her couch and drop my head back. Lucy never fought me like this. Our relationship was always easy. She was mine. I was hers. No power struggles existed.

“Maybe she went for a walk?” I ask.

The couch dents when Lauren sits down next to me. “Her bags are gone, and I doubt she’s taking a walk with them.”

I slowly lift my head, and she bends forward to snag her phone from the coffee table.

She sucks in a breath a few seconds later and ends the call. “Straight to voice mail.”

“Same with me. That’s why I came over.”

Willow promised.

Promised we’d talk.

Promised she’d stay.

She’s nothing but a goddamn liar.

I’m not letting her run.

I won’t let her shut me out.