In the Crease
Page 86
Silence stretched between them as voices from the kitchen leaked through the door. He didn’t pay them any mind, though. His eyes were on Wren. “While I appreciate that, you can ask me anything, Wren. I’ll tell you anything you want.”
She worked her lip as her hands came up, resting on his chest. “Still. I deal with people opening up all the time, and I know how much it can suck. I don’t feel you should have to too.”
“But we’re married. We’re supposed to be open books to each other.”
She scoffed at that. “Please, you don’t want me opening The Fucked-Up Book of Wren to you.”
“You mean like the part that involves the douche who knocked you up?”
Her eyes widened. “I guess.”
“Because I pretty much know everything else.”
She seemed uneasy as she exhaled. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
She held his gaze, her eyes burning into his as he spoke. “Let me ask you something, Wren.” Her eyes filled with something—fear, anxiety, he wasn’t sure—but she didn’t move as he asked, “Does he live here?”
Looking away, she chewed on the inside of her lip. “Don’t make me answer that, please.” He watched her profile as tears filled her eyes. “He doesn’t matter. You’re our no-named son’s father, so why does he matter?”
“Because I want to know. I want to know what man disrespected you and left you high and dry. And after I beat his ever-loving ass, I want to thank him for giving me the greatest gift in the world.” She looked back at him, her lip trembling as tears leaked out the sides of her eyes. “A woman I will love until my dying day and a son I will not only love the same, but be the best father to.”
Breathless, she shook her head. “Jensen, please, he doesn’t matter. What you just said is all that matters.”
“True, but obviously he does. To me, at least.”
“He doesn’t. Not even a bit. Don’t think of him. I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” she answered, her face scrunched up in disgust. “The only man I’m currently thinking of is you, and that’s all I care about. So just let it go.”
“Wren, I think it would be best if you told—”
“I’m done talking about this,” she said, turning over and giving him her back. “And I know that makes me a fucking child, but I refuse to give that motherfucker any fucking power over us.”
Confused, Jensen threw his hands up. “How the hell would that give him any power by my knowing who he is?”
“Because it will,” she answered, pulling the blankets up and by her face. “Goodnight.”
“It’s three p.m.”
“Good fucking afternoon, then,” she spat back at him, and he shook his head, falling to his back as he stared up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what the hell was the issue, why she didn’t want to talk about it, but he was getting really fucking annoyed. It was frustrating. Fucking frustrating. But then, she was right. The dude didn’t matter. Or, did he? Jensen wasn’t sure, but one thing was for sure, between her not admitting her damn feelings and the douche who knocked her up, he was sure to lose his fucking mind.
Especially when he couldn’t shake his thoughts that centered around the guy. Or the dread that filled him every time his mind wandered that way because that trepidation was born of true fear. He wasn’t sure if it was because he knew the dude mattered, or if it was related to her earlier statement, that she thought Jensen was going to leave her. There had to be a reason for it, because he was doing everything he could to ease her concern.
That alone worried him more than her unsure feelings.
Her feelings, he could handle, but a wayward deadbeat daddy was something Jensen wasn’t ready for.
Because the baby in her belly was his.
Plain and simple.
No one would ever take that away from him.
Not looking at Jensen, Wren cuddled deeper into the bed with a moan. “Vaughn won’t care.”
Jensen looked back at her as he buckled his belt. “Probably not, but I want you there.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t sleep well. I’m so tired, and my head hurts like mad. I just want to sleep. I’ll be grumpy. You don’t want to hang with me when I’m grumpy.”
He looked away toward the mirror as he fixed the top of his shirt. It was a button-up, plaid with purple and black that apparently Vaughn would be wearing too. His off-season beard was growing in really nice and thick, almost making him unrecognizable. She was finding it turned her on more than she liked. But then, maybe it was him. All of him that had her trembling in her skin at the mere sight of him. “Your grumpiness doesn’t bother me.”
“I just don’t want to ruin your time, or even anyone else’s. I’m so tired.”
He looked back at her in the mirror, and she could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe a damn word she was saying. “You were fine to go the other day.”
“I know. I’m just not up to it.”
“You sure it isn’t more?”
Hell yeah, it was more than that! She was scared. Everything was happening so quickly. Her feelings were overwhelming for her, and Jensen was just… He was just…him. Jensen. Perfection in the form of a huge-ass goalie who somehow loved her insane ass. And watching him go at her parents? Yeah, that annihilated any walls around her heart and freaked her out. Because as much as she wanted to look into his dark brown eyes and tell him she loved him, she knew she had to tell him about Bradley.
She just couldn’t.
Between being embarrassed and her general hate for the guy, she couldn’t. How would Jensen react? They had all grown up together. Bradley lived right down the road, five houses down, her whole life. He used to play hockey with the boys. He was the fourth amigo sometimes, but he was so much younger than everyone, so he was often treated that way and left behind a lot. But still, everyone knew Bradley, loved him, and for him to do this—to Wren—it would be ugly.
Shit, was she protecting him?
No, no, she was protecting herself because she couldn’t help but feel like everyone would think it was her fault.
He was allegedly a stand-up guy. Loved his momma, his sister, great with his nephews, and was very successful. The guy Wren was dealing with wasn’t the guy everyone knew. But Wren was Wren. She had slept around, she had fun, she was stubborn, and as her mother put it, dramatic. They’d all assume he would have wanted Wren and the baby, but she blew him off. Or something along those lines. No one would believe her.
She worked her lip as her hands came up, resting on his chest. “Still. I deal with people opening up all the time, and I know how much it can suck. I don’t feel you should have to too.”
“But we’re married. We’re supposed to be open books to each other.”
She scoffed at that. “Please, you don’t want me opening The Fucked-Up Book of Wren to you.”
“You mean like the part that involves the douche who knocked you up?”
Her eyes widened. “I guess.”
“Because I pretty much know everything else.”
She seemed uneasy as she exhaled. “Yeah, I guess you do.”
She held his gaze, her eyes burning into his as he spoke. “Let me ask you something, Wren.” Her eyes filled with something—fear, anxiety, he wasn’t sure—but she didn’t move as he asked, “Does he live here?”
Looking away, she chewed on the inside of her lip. “Don’t make me answer that, please.” He watched her profile as tears filled her eyes. “He doesn’t matter. You’re our no-named son’s father, so why does he matter?”
“Because I want to know. I want to know what man disrespected you and left you high and dry. And after I beat his ever-loving ass, I want to thank him for giving me the greatest gift in the world.” She looked back at him, her lip trembling as tears leaked out the sides of her eyes. “A woman I will love until my dying day and a son I will not only love the same, but be the best father to.”
Breathless, she shook her head. “Jensen, please, he doesn’t matter. What you just said is all that matters.”
“True, but obviously he does. To me, at least.”
“He doesn’t. Not even a bit. Don’t think of him. I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” she answered, her face scrunched up in disgust. “The only man I’m currently thinking of is you, and that’s all I care about. So just let it go.”
“Wren, I think it would be best if you told—”
“I’m done talking about this,” she said, turning over and giving him her back. “And I know that makes me a fucking child, but I refuse to give that motherfucker any fucking power over us.”
Confused, Jensen threw his hands up. “How the hell would that give him any power by my knowing who he is?”
“Because it will,” she answered, pulling the blankets up and by her face. “Goodnight.”
“It’s three p.m.”
“Good fucking afternoon, then,” she spat back at him, and he shook his head, falling to his back as he stared up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what the hell was the issue, why she didn’t want to talk about it, but he was getting really fucking annoyed. It was frustrating. Fucking frustrating. But then, she was right. The dude didn’t matter. Or, did he? Jensen wasn’t sure, but one thing was for sure, between her not admitting her damn feelings and the douche who knocked her up, he was sure to lose his fucking mind.
Especially when he couldn’t shake his thoughts that centered around the guy. Or the dread that filled him every time his mind wandered that way because that trepidation was born of true fear. He wasn’t sure if it was because he knew the dude mattered, or if it was related to her earlier statement, that she thought Jensen was going to leave her. There had to be a reason for it, because he was doing everything he could to ease her concern.
That alone worried him more than her unsure feelings.
Her feelings, he could handle, but a wayward deadbeat daddy was something Jensen wasn’t ready for.
Because the baby in her belly was his.
Plain and simple.
No one would ever take that away from him.
Not looking at Jensen, Wren cuddled deeper into the bed with a moan. “Vaughn won’t care.”
Jensen looked back at her as he buckled his belt. “Probably not, but I want you there.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t sleep well. I’m so tired, and my head hurts like mad. I just want to sleep. I’ll be grumpy. You don’t want to hang with me when I’m grumpy.”
He looked away toward the mirror as he fixed the top of his shirt. It was a button-up, plaid with purple and black that apparently Vaughn would be wearing too. His off-season beard was growing in really nice and thick, almost making him unrecognizable. She was finding it turned her on more than she liked. But then, maybe it was him. All of him that had her trembling in her skin at the mere sight of him. “Your grumpiness doesn’t bother me.”
“I just don’t want to ruin your time, or even anyone else’s. I’m so tired.”
He looked back at her in the mirror, and she could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe a damn word she was saying. “You were fine to go the other day.”
“I know. I’m just not up to it.”
“You sure it isn’t more?”
Hell yeah, it was more than that! She was scared. Everything was happening so quickly. Her feelings were overwhelming for her, and Jensen was just… He was just…him. Jensen. Perfection in the form of a huge-ass goalie who somehow loved her insane ass. And watching him go at her parents? Yeah, that annihilated any walls around her heart and freaked her out. Because as much as she wanted to look into his dark brown eyes and tell him she loved him, she knew she had to tell him about Bradley.
She just couldn’t.
Between being embarrassed and her general hate for the guy, she couldn’t. How would Jensen react? They had all grown up together. Bradley lived right down the road, five houses down, her whole life. He used to play hockey with the boys. He was the fourth amigo sometimes, but he was so much younger than everyone, so he was often treated that way and left behind a lot. But still, everyone knew Bradley, loved him, and for him to do this—to Wren—it would be ugly.
Shit, was she protecting him?
No, no, she was protecting herself because she couldn’t help but feel like everyone would think it was her fault.
He was allegedly a stand-up guy. Loved his momma, his sister, great with his nephews, and was very successful. The guy Wren was dealing with wasn’t the guy everyone knew. But Wren was Wren. She had slept around, she had fun, she was stubborn, and as her mother put it, dramatic. They’d all assume he would have wanted Wren and the baby, but she blew him off. Or something along those lines. No one would believe her.
