Page 54 of The Coach

I shoot her a glare. “I feel like I might hurl.”

Lauren’s eyes widen. “Oh my God, is it morning sickness or Jackson Knox-induced sickness?”

“Both.” I set my drink down, tapping my nails against the glass. “Lauren, he looks…so different.”

“He looksthe same.You just didn’t realize you were sleeping with a celebrity.”

I groan, burying my face in my hands. “How the hell am I supposed to tell him? Like, forreal. We’re in Chicago and I have literally no plan.”

Lauren taps the table like she’s leading a business meeting. “Okay. Option one: youcasuallyDM him. ‘Hey, Jackson. Long time no see. Hope you’re well. By the way, you impregnated me in May.’ Good luck with the game tomorrow!”

I stare at her.

“Okay, okay.” She waves a hand. “Too aggressive.”

I cross my arms. “You think?”

Lauren smirks. “Option two: We sneak into the game and get a private moment with him afterward. You dramatically remove your coat and reveal the bump. Verytelenovelaenergy.”

I choke on my drink. “I amnotdoing a dramatic reveal.”

Lauren shrugs. “Fine. Boring. Option three: You sit tight, we enjoy the game, andfatetakes care of it.”

I sigh, looking back at the TV. Jackson is laughing at something a reporter said, casual, confident, unbothered.

Meanwhile, I am spiraling.

I grip my drink harder. “You know what Ireallywant?”

Lauren leans in. “Enlighten me.”

“I want to go back in time andnot sleep with him.”

Lauren snorts. “Liar.”

I sigh. “Okay, fine. I just…I wish he wasn’tthis guy.I wish he was just… Jackson. The guy who made me pancakes and kissed me like I was the only girl in the world.”

Lauren softens for a moment, then reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. “Ivy. Youhaveto tell him. No matter how big his world seems, this is bigger.”

I nod slowly.

Because she’s right.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I tell Jackson Knox he’s going to be a father.

…Or I throw up and run away.

It’s afifty-fiftyshot.

“I like the fate idea.”

Chapter Twelve

IVY

The stadium on Sunday is a living, breathing thing.

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