Up In Flames. Kira Sinclair

       4

      HE HAD TO be hearing things. For a second, Erik thought Lola had said she was pregnant.

      And then the expression on her face hit him. Scared, upset, with a mixture of wonder that made his belly clench.

      Realization barreled into him. He’d heard her correctly. And that tiny kernel of wonder sprouted in his own belly...for about five seconds. Right up until she spun on her heel and stormed down his mom’s front steps.

      That was it. She’d dropped her bomb, broke apart his world and was just planning to leave.

      Not on your life.

      Erik didn’t even stop to think. He slammed open the door, and it bounced off the side of the house with a resounding bang. He was across the wide veranda with her arm in his hand as he spun her.

      “What?”

      “You heard me,” she ground out.

      Yes. Yes, he had. He opened his mouth to say something, but his head was spinning so fast that he had no idea what.

      Their night together was etched into his brain, and not just because of the broken condom. The last six weeks had been sheer hell. Every place he seemed to go in Sweetheart was filled with memories of Lola. And when he wasn’t fighting the pull of their history while he was awake, the pulsing frenzy of their night together twisted through his dreams, jolting him awake, making him ache for her.

      But he’d listened to Colt and stayed away because it was the right thing to do for Lola.

      This changed everything.

      “You aren’t going to ask me if it’s yours?”

      The sneer in her words hurt, which was exactly why she’d said them. But what pissed him off more than the petty slash was the implied cut to herself.

      “No, Lola. That never even crossed my mind. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t know the baby was mine. And you’ve never slept around.”

      “You don’t know anything about me anymore. I could sleep around.”

      “But you don’t.” People didn’t change that much, not at their core.

      “I was sneaking into someone else’s bed that night.”

      God, he really wished she’d stop reminding him. “I’m aware. I’m also aware that you never actually slept with Sean.”

      “But I could have.”

      “No, you couldn’t have.” He might have avoided Lola over the past several weeks, but he hadn’t avoided Colt. And while his friend had been quick to warn him away from Lola, he hadn’t shied away from talking about her.

      Erik was well aware that she’d rarely dated over the last six years, and never the same guy more than once or twice. Her love life sounded as interesting as his own. He hadn’t been a saint, but he hadn’t exactly been filling his phone with random numbers, either.

      “We need to talk,” he said. Lola tried to jerk away from him, but he kept a firm grip on her arm. Her shoulder sagged a little beneath the weight of the fear she couldn’t quite hide.

      He wanted to banish it for her. But that wasn’t his place anymore.

      Finally she sighed. “I know, but I’m not ready for this.”

      Erik wasn’t sure if she meant their discussion or being pregnant. Not that it really mattered. They were going to have to deal with both. And the conversation was going to start now.

      Erik led her back up onto the wraparound porch and guided her to the swing at the far end, his hand nestled against the small of her back. The gesture was comfortable and familiar, a feeling of rightness in the middle of a storm.

      He settled her and then took several steps away, leaning his hip against the porch railing.

      Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her for several seconds. Lola Whittaker had always been beautiful. Wild and willful, with a creative bent that astounded him because he didn’t have a creative bone in his body. Growing up, she was always making, painting or gluing something or other. Or else she had a camera in her hand.