Page 19 of Unrivaled

The front door opens and closes, and I hear Jackson and Eli exchange a few hushed words, then Jackson finds me staring at the protein bar, trying to decide if I can manage another bite. My body needs the protein, but I’m not sure my gut can handle it right now.

“Hey,” Jackson says softly.

With a sigh, I pull the wrapper back over the protein bar and set it on the counter behind me. “Hey.”

He stares at me, arm crossed, hazel eyes laced with concern. I stare back, certain I look like absolute shit. Maybe I should’ve waited for my mom to get home and told her about Jackson’s suspicions. My mom’s got her shit together. She’d know what to do.

But the thought of telling my parents anything before I know for sure one way or another has my stomach rebelling against the little I just put in it.

Swallowing down the bile, I inhale deeply, trying to get ahold of myself and ignore the echoing,I have a kid. Do I really have a kid? What if he’s not mine? What if he is?going through my head.

“Can I get Tiffany’s number?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I’d clear my throat, but I’m not sure it would make any difference.

Jackson looks me over. “What’re you gonna do?”

I shrug, holding out my hands. “Get in touch with her, obviously. What d’you expect me to do? You just drop this bomb in my lap and think I’m gonna ignore it?”

Now it’s Jackson sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers and shaking his head. “No. No, of course not. But she’s touchy, especially where her kid is concerned. I don’t want you railroading her either.”

A laugh splutters out of me, my hands going to the counter behind me, the edges digging into my palms as I squeeze. “Tell me, Jackson, what’s the right course of action here? Do you have experience confronting a chick who you might’ve gotten pregnant like four years ago? Is there some protocol for confronting a woman you suspect is hiding your child from you that you’re aware of? Because I sure as fuck have never been in this situation before. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. I just know that if I have a kid out there, I want to know for sure one way or the other and then do the right thing.”

Jackson sucks in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring, and I half expect him to lecture me or yell at me or … I’m not sure. But instead he nods once and pulls out his phone. My phone vibrates in my pocket a second later, and he puts his away. “Good luck, man. I have a feeling you’ll need it.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tiffany

I pull my phone out of my bag at the end of my biology class to make sure I don’t have any notifications from my parents about Ben. Anything urgent would’ve rung through if they’d called twice in a row, of course. But sometimes they text me updates about cute or funny things he’s done or little videos that he makes for me.

I absolutely have the cutest kid in the world, no contest. Anyone who thinks different can fight me.

But instead of texts from my mom or dad with updates about my adorable son, there are three in a row that make my blood run cold.

Unknown number: This is Gray Kilpatrick

Unknown number: We need to talk

Unknown number: Where are you? I’ll meet you

My throat works, but I’m suddenly incapable of swallowing properly, and the only thing keeping me from choking on my own spit is the fact that my mouth has gone completely dry.

How did he get my number? And why does he want to talk to me?

Scalding rage melts the ice in my veins, and I squeeze my phone in my hand, tempted to chuck it at the wall. But I can’t afford to replace it, and my whole life is held together by this device.

But I’d throw it in the Mariana Trench if it meant I never had to see Grayson Kilpatrick’s name on my phone ever again.

He doesn’t deserve my time.

“Tiffany? Are you alright?” says a voice from behind me.

I whip around, but it’s just Bonnie. She went to high school at Edgewood too, but she’s a couple years younger than me, so our paths didn’t cross very often back then. I knew her older sister, though. This is what happens when you only go very part time for your first two years of college. You’re still taking sophomore level gen eds when everyone else your age is a senior and getting ready to graduate.

But it was worth it to be able to spend those first two years with Ben. Which drags my thoughts back to Grayson’s infuriating text messages.

I paste a smile on my face and nod far too enthusiastically in response to obvious concern. “Yup! Great! Fine. Everything’s fine. I’m fine.”

That was not at all convincing.

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