Beautiful Storm (San Francisco End Game #1)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Luke

W e’re celebrating another win as we exit the locker rooms, ready for a big night out. Preseason is almost done, and as suspected, we are killing it. The confidence I have leading into the regular season should be illegal. But fuck, am I certain this is our year.

“See you there.” Reed waves over his shoulder as he beelines to the left while I head right, and I’ve just reached my truck when I remember Keeley asked to see me. Dammit .

Spinning around to rush back inside, I almost crash into Amelia where she stands behind me.

“Jesus.” I grab her shoulders to still her before dropping them quickly and stepping back. “What are you doing?”

“Can we talk?” she asks, barely reacting to me almost knocking into her, making my body tense, automatically going into fight mode. What did I do this time?

“I’m supposed to be meeting—”

“Please,” she rasps, making me pause.

“Okay, I have a minute.” I’ve barely spoken a word to her since finding out she has a husband—information I easily confirmed with the trusty Internet. They’ve been married for years. I saw a grainy clip of them on stage after he proposed at a music festival. The caption read “If this isn’t the most romantic proposal ever!!!!” Four exclamation marks. Four!

Amelia steps closer while my thoughts run rampant, and her eyes are wide like a deer. “Somewhere private.”

Ouch . Now I know I definitely did something wrong. But fuck if I know what. It could be anything. I sneeze and this woman hates me for it.

“Private as in one of the meeting rooms here at the stadium, or…”

“Not here.” She shakes her head.

Jesus . “Okay, what about my place? It’s not too far from here. But I have to chat with Keeley for a minute first.” Amelia’s eyes widen before she glances around, probably checking if someone overheard me. “I promise to be discreet, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll give you my address and we can meet there.”

“Oh, it’s not that… your place is great. Let me give you my number so you can text me the details.”

After putting her number into my phone, she walks away without another word, and my eyes follow her until she gets to her car. The second she’s out of sight it hits me. Someone found out about the fire. That has to be it, because what else could it be?

W hen I pull up at my house, Amelia’s sitting on my top step with her knees pulled up to her chest, waiting for me, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. A tightness works its way into my chest. Whatever she wants to talk about is worse than I thought. And after working myself up on the drive over, I can’t wait any longer.

I rush past her, making her jump as I open the door.

“Come on in. Let’s get this over with,” I say as she stands, and I motion for her to walk in ahead of me.

Amelia gulps but nods as she heads inside, and I note that her outfit is back to the casual style I’m used to. Effortless. Easy. Something you wear when you’ve got more pressing things on your mind. Kind of like when I throw on a hoodie or sweats. Although I’ve been told I still look hot dressed like that. It’s a blessing.

I lead Amelia into the living room and sit while she remains standing. A beat passes before she starts pacing the floor, wearing a hole in my ridiculously expensive rug.

“Can you quit it?” I say, my eyes locked on the soft wool as she destroys it with her shoes. “Just tell me. So they found out about the fire. Big deal. You said you wouldn’t use it, so I don’t know why we need to talk about it. You’re not using it, right?” A trace of panic hits me but I ignore it when Amelia’s eyes flash my way.

“What?” She stops pacing, staring at me as though I have two heads, her expression confused.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Honestly, no. But I can say with absolute certainty your whining is misguided.”

“Oh, yeah?” I cross my arms over my chest as I sit back. “Then if it’s not the fire, what is it?”

“The fire? Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re so far off base—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurts…or maybe she spits just like I asked; I’m not close enough to tell. Either way I laugh somewhat inappropriately.

“Congratulations. Do you want me to force the team to cut you some slack or—”

“It’s yours.”

What? At that I laugh harder. Though I have no fucking clue why.

“Are you serious, Luke? You’re laughing.”

My phone lights up with a text but I ignore it. “Are you serious?” I counter with a scoff. “Or is this some kind of fucked-up joke or gold-digging situation?”

“Excuse me?” Amelia laughs this time but it’s a little sadistic. “Do you honestly think I’d lie about that? I’d rather choose literally anyone else to be my baby’s father. No matter how rich or poor they were.”

She’s offended but since it couldn’t possibly cause more of a rift between us, I shrug. That ship sailed right under a bridge. May as well burn that fucker to the ground too. “What about your husband? Or do you sleep around because you’re not fucking him?”

“What the hell, Luke?” Her fists clench at her sides and her gaze hardens. If I thought her glare was solid in the past, this one is five stars. But she lied to me. How do I know she’s not lying now?

“Are you or are you not married?”

“I’m not…” She trails off as her shoulders drop and she lets out a long sigh. “I’m married.” Ding ding ding, correct answer. “Technically,” she adds. “But I’ve filed the paperwork for our divorce. We’ve been separated for over a year.”

“Yeah, okay.” I roll my eyes. “Then why is he still referring to you as his wife?” My teeth clench as I say the word “wife” and I curse myself for showing her that this is getting to me when it shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t care.

Amelia sighs again. “Until last week, Preston refused to sign the papers. He’s all about the publicity these days, and maybe he thinks a divorce will be bad for his music. Especially since his latest hit is an upbeat love song. Either way, his decisions are his decisions, and he stopped caring about how that would affect me years ago.”

Shit . My trusty Internet is not so trusty. I’m a dick. No wonder she hates me. And what the fuck, Preston?

“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.” I shrug. It’s not an excuse, but we both know it’s true.

“You really are,” she seethes before throwing her head back and silently cursing the heavens. “But honestly, you being an asshole was never in question.” My eyes flash to hers to catch her raising a brow in challenge, making me huff out a laugh.

“Nope. And since you already know that about me, I have to ask… Are you sure the baby is mine?”

Amelia closes her eyes before taking a deep breath and opening them again, pinning me with an expression that says, “you’re a dick.” And maybe I am, but I had to ask.

“Yes. I’m one hundred percent sure. Happy now?”

“Not exactly.” This is not how I expected the rest of my day to go.

“I know it’s a lot.”

“You think?”

“Jesus, Luke. Would you shut up for a second? God, I was prepared for all kinds of negative responses but this is so hard.”

My eyes fall to her stomach as she steps closer to say more, but I cut her off despite her telling me not to.

“I’m…gonna be a dad?”

She pauses, an argument ready to launch, before she huffs out a breath. “Yeah,” she breathes out, the idea clearly not thrilling her. “Unlike you,” she continues, using the “you” as a little slap to the face, “I don’t fuck around, meaning I know with certainty that it’s yours.”

“Ouch.” I fake a cringe though her words don’t hurt me. I’m not ashamed of that part of my life.

“Don’t act like you didn’t deserve that,” Amelia snaps, misinterpreting my response.

“You’re right. I was an ass so you’re being a brat. I get it. But now that’s out of the way, apologies in advance for this.”

“For what?”

I jump up and stalk out of the room before screaming at the top of my lungs. “Fuck. Fuck. Motherfucking. Fuck. Fuck.”

I’m so loud, Shadow starts aggressively pawing at the back door, determined to break the glass so she can come to my rescue. I’d find it adorable if I wasn’t numb. I’m having a kid. I’m going to be a dad. To Amelia’s baby.

Holy shit.

I poke my head back into the room to find Amelia staring in my direction, a look of horror on her face. “I’m going to need a moment to process this.” I gesture between the two of us and put on a fake smile. “But please stay. I won’t be long.”

Amelia nods but I don’t wait for her to speak, turning away as she rushes out, “Okay.”

How the hell is this happening?