Don’t.

Lose.

I’ll play your sick, twisted game, and I'll kick your ass at it.

Running my hands through my hair, I stomp up the drive. I need a fucking drink and a cold shower. I had her in my fucking arms, my lips on her delicate chocolate skin, and I fucking let her get away. Well, technically, she ran away. Again.

When I pass my slick, blue Audi R8, I hear a ringing noise. I stop, listening. There is definitely something ringing inside my car. Opening the driver’s door, I spot Skila’s heels and handbag. I smile. She’ll have to see me now. Her phone is ringing again. I open her handbag and pull it out. Lisa is calling. Swiping left on the screen, I answer.

“Hello,” she says.

“Hey. Sky left her bag here.”

I don’t say anything else. I don’t know what to say. I wait to see what her best friend has to say, knowing that will tell me more than anything else whether I still have a chance.

“Oh,” she pauses, thinking. I hear a door shut and imagine her walking outside so she can let loose on me without Skila hearing. “I’ll tell her I found her phone . . . when you bring it over tomorrow. Bring coffee,” she says and hangs up.

I want to fist bump whatever god is on my side tonight, but I hold it back, not wanting to rub my small victory in the face of the fates. At least now, I know there is still a chance, no matter how small. I’ll win her back if it's the last thing I do. It’s funny how much my life has changed over the course of the last three weeks. I don’t even remember the last time I went out or the last bitch I brought home. None of the countless women across the country matter to me anymore. Only one.

My Midnight Sky.

Walking back inside, I feel lighter, happier. I have hope for a brighter future. I toss Skila’s handbag on the counter next to her heels and head to the refrigerator to grab a beer, but I don’t make it. A strange voice fills my kitchen, startling me. I whip back around, wondering who the hell is here, before I realize its coming from Skila’s phone. I must have bumped someone’s number when I set it down. Picking it up, I glance down to see who I accidentally called, but its connected to voicemail. About that time, the words coming across the line register and I’m stuck standing there, dumbfounded.

“Miss Parker. This is Rachael with Dr. Banks. I’ve got your blood results in, and I’m happy to inform you that you do not have the flu. You’re pregnant. Congratulations. Call the office as soon as possible to set up a prenatal appointment.”

I press replay three times, and I can't fucking believe it.

She’s pregnant.

I have no doubt exactly whose baby it is. If Camryn were here, I'd punch his fucking lights out for making her go through this shit alone. She deserves better, but no, he had to go off and get himself fucking killed, the bastard. I can't imagine how she’s going to feel when she hears the news. Her world already came crashing in around her tonight. This is just the fucking icing on the cake. I hate the idea of her hurt, afraid and alone. I don’t understand it, but over the last few weeks, this woman has completely invaded me. She has conquered my restless soul and made me feel, for once, that there is more to life than playing ball and fucking bitches.

I'll be there for her. I'll be there for her and her unborn child. It's the least I can do. Hell, it’s all I want to do. Now that I know she’s pregnant, no other thought has room in my mind. Clouds overhead part, letting the moon shine down on me, and I imagine it’s Camryn offering me his blessing from his place high in the heavens. I’ve got this. I can do this. How hard will it be to raise a kid? Shit, I make enough money that I can pay someone to do it for me—not that I would. My brother’s baby deserves better than that. Skila deserves more than that. I’ll be the best fucking daddy in the world.

Walking back in my front door, another thought suddenly hits me. So out of the blue, I almost double over with the pain the thought alone causes me. What if she decides to abort? What if she doesn’t want kids, or what if she just doesn’t want Camryn's kid? I can’t blame her if she doesn’t. The father is dead. As far as she knows, she’ll be going at it all alone.

No. I won’t let her.

I don’t care what it takes. I refuse to let her abort the baby. I'll do and say whatever it fucking takes to make sure she follows through with the pregnancy. I’ll let her know that I want it. I’ll make a great fucking daddy. I know it's going to be hard, but I’ve got a plan. We're family, whether she likes it or not, and I’m going to be there, no matter what.