Page 37 of Need You To Choose Me

“Well, I did, but… It wasn’t like that. I mean, it was, but I also like her and…”

I run my hand over my face.

I was messing this up.

Badly.

Becky shakes her head. “Oh, trust me, I understand it perfectly. But seriously, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that she’s carrying my child that I didn’t know about until now, and she was just about to move into a hellhole,” I snap, done with the twenty questions.

“So you weren’t actually thinking.”

No, I wasn’t. That was the problem. I was reacting, trying to come up with a solution to this mess of a situation we were in.

“Is it so wrong that I want to take care of her? She’s pregnant with my kid, for fuck’s sake.” I run my fingers through my hair, pushing it back. The pent-up tension that’s been building over the last few days, and which I thought I’d somehow sweat out of my system in the last hour, is back in full force.

“Is that the only reason why you suggested that? Because she’s pregnant?”

“I—” I open my mouth, but no words come out.

I like Savannah. I liked her that first day we met. Not only was she a gorgeous woman, but something about her, her sass, and her kindness, made looking away impossible.

“Savannah is…” Becky shakes her head as if she’s at a loss for words.

“Stubborn? Too freaking independent for her own good?”

“Guarded,” she finishes finally. “Not that you can blame her. She’s been hurt too many times by the people she loved, and she doesn’t open up easily.”

My fingers clench into a fist by my side. “Her ex?”

I could still remember the sorrow on her face that day we met when she told me about her ex. Was he the one who hurt her? Or was there somebody else?

“Her ex was an ass, sure, but I think she was with him because he was safe. She knew he wasn’t for her, and he wouldn’t be able to hurt her. Not really.”

I grind my teeth. The idea of Savannah with some unknown guy got on my nerves. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it one bit. “You’re not making any sense.”

Becky shrugs. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Then what’s the point of all of this?”

“My point is that you’re different. You’re the father of her child, and you do have the power to hurt her.” She moves closer and jabs her finger into my chest. “And if you do that, you’ll have to deal with me. Do I make myself clear?”

“Red,” Miguel comes behind her, his hands resting on her waist. “Blake is a good guy, remember?”

“And Savannah is my friend,” she says, not moving her gaze from me. “She loves that baby more than life itself. I won’t let anybody take that away from her or upset her in the process, which is apparently what you’ve been doing the last few days.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?”

Because I needed to do something. I couldn’t just sit still. I’d go crazy.

“Give her time. She’s been dealing with a lot, and she needs time to process everything. The stress isn’t good for her or the baby.”

There it was again.

What the hell did she mean by “she’s been dealing with a lot?” Was something happening I should know about? Was it her or the baby? And was this whole thing only making it worse? Shit, I hate this. I was a fixer. I took care of people in my life; it’s just who I was. Knowing that there was something Savannah was dealing with and not being able to do anything…

“I know.” I run my hands over my face. “Fuck, I know. The last thing I want is to add more to her plate.”

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