Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(62)

I turn to Blake and glare. “You promised you’d stay at the truck,” I whisper-yell.

“No, I promised I’d stay outside.” He motions to where he’s standing. “I’m still outside.” His face become serious and he sniffs. “What the f*ck…?” He pokes his nose inside the house. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

I lean around his big body, trying to figure out what he sees that I don’t. Other than the trashed living room of three college burnouts, I see nothing. “What is it?”

He sets his cold green eyes on me. “How many times have you hung out in this house?”

I’m taken aback by his question. I can’t count, so I guess. “I don’t know. Twenty-ish?”

He rubs his forehead and groans. “Did you know they’re smoking crack in there?”

“What!” Crack? I’m not even sure I know what that is. I mean I’ve heard about it, but I’ve never actually seen it or been offered it. I always thought crack was for hardcore drug users, not partying college kids.

“Stick your nose in there and take a whiff.”

I lean in, but he snags me right back. “Wait. I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

I gaze up at him confused, and he looks a little embarrassed. “The baby.”

“Oh…right.”

“It has a”—he rolls his finger through the air, searching for a word—“synthetic smell, ya know? Like plastic.”

My eyes widen. “Yes, I know. I’ve smelled it on Clifford before.”

“Ah hell…” He grips the back of his neck with both hands and looks up to the sky.

I know what he’s thinking. It’s not bad enough that I got pregnant by a jerk but by a crack-smoking loser jerk. I know that’s what he’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.

“I swear to God, John, if there’s anyone but a naked J. Lo standing on the other side of the door, I’m gonna beat your ass.” Clifford’s voice booms just before the door swings wider to reveal him.

I’m grateful he’s wearing jeans and a wrinkled shirt, rather than his roommate’s au natural look. He glares between Blake and me, not acting the least bit intimidated, then stops with his eyes on me. “What do you want, Elle.”

I feel more than see Blake’s shock from my side at his calling me Elle. He’s a smart guy; I’m sure he’s figured it out.

“I’m sorry to wake you, but we need to talk.”

He runs a hand through his shaggy hair. “And this shit couldn’t be done over the phone or at a decent f*cking hour?”

“Watch your tone, Kurt Cobain.”

Clifford doesn’t react to Blake, but rather acts like he’s not even there. “So? I’m up. What is it?”

I scratch my neck as anxiety pricks at my skin. “Do you think we could talk in private?”

He groans as if I’m putting him out and swings open the door for me to come inside.

“Nope. She’s not going into your crack house, bro.”

Clifford jerks and his eyes flash to Blake with a flicker of panic.

“You two talk out here. I’ll wait by the truck.” Blake drops a kiss to the top of my head and stalks back to the Rubicon, resuming his position at the hood.

I lick my lips. “Look. I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just gonna say it.” I meet his eyes to gauge his reaction and then let ’er rip. “I’m pregnant.”

I don’t know what I expected, shock, maybe anger. But I do know that I never in a million years would’ve expected laughter.

Clifford doubles over, his hands braced on his knees as hilarity shakes his shoulders.

I watch him for a few seconds, wondering if maybe he really is still drunk. When he doesn’t stop, I turn to see Blake, who looks about a half-second away from charging Clifford and beating every last chuckle from the guy’s body.

“Did I say something funny?”

“Oh f*ck…that’s some good shit.” He stands up and wipes his eyes. “Nice try.”

“This isn’t a joke, Clifford. I’m serious. I’m pregnant.”

He shrugs and grins. “It’s not mine.”

My chin tucks in offense. “Of course it is. You’re the only one I’ve been with.”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

“I…” I shake my head. “How would I do that?”

“Is this about the photos? Some kind of payback or something?”

“No, I’m… God, I just thought you should know.”

“Why? So I’d marry you?”

“Eww. That’s not what I want at all.”

“Then what do you want, Elle? You come over here claiming I knocked you up and I’m supposed to what? Fall to my knees and confess my undying love?”

My eyes heat. “I guess I thought you might be interested in knowing your son or daughter.”

He shrugs like I just told him the weather. “You thought wrong. First, I don’t believe you because the only times we didn’t use protection I pulled out.”

I roll my eyes.

“Second, I think you’re pissed about the pix I dropped on you and your boy toy and you’re trying to get revenge. And third, you have no proof. You got an ultrasound? ’Cause I know guys who’ve had girls claim to be pregnant and it turns out they’re not.”