Page 103 of Keeping the Score

My bagel’s up so I move to the counter and take it from the girl with a smile. “Thanks.”

When I turn back around, Trevor’s still there, with a coffee in his hand. “Could we talk?” He indicates one of the small tables that’s empty.

I’d rather scoop out my own eyeballs with a grapefruit spoon. “Why?”

His lips twist wryly. “I get it. You don’t want to talk to me. But I have some things I’d like to talk to you about. If you’ll listen.”

I purse my lips. I should just walk out. But I say grudgingly, “Okay.”

We sit and I unwrap my bagel. I study him as I take a bite and chew. He’s still good-looking—deep brown eyes, perfect beard stubble, boyish smile. Once upon a time I was attracted to him. Now I just feel like he’s… dishonest. Disloyal. Two-faced. “I guess you’re not playing now.”

“Nope. But only a few months until spring training.”

“Right.”

“I saw pictures of you at a hockey game with… is that Ford’s baby?”

My head jerks back. Not what I expected. “Yes,” I say slowly. “It’s his baby.”

“What were you doing there? What’s going on?”

Answers flood my mind. But I want to be careful what I say. Then again, it’s Trevor. I certainly don’t need to be concerned about his feelings. I might as well be honest. “You know Ford and I are friends.”

He makes a face, with a little head shake, likeyeah, but that’s ridiculous.

I lower my chin and look up at him over my glasses. “He has a daughter he never knew about and I’ve been helping him look after her.”

“Whoa. Weird.”

“And… we’ve…” We… I’ve fallen in love. Ford hasn’t. And Willa is back. So there’s no point in telling Trevor that we’ve become more than friends. Because that’s ending now. “Well, he needed some help, and I owed him.”

His forehead puckers. “Wow.” He sits back in his chair, holding his coffee cup in both hands on the table. His lip curls. “That is wild. You don’t even like kids.”

I just smile at that. “So wild,” I say lightly. “Is that what you came here to talk to me about? Because?—”

“Haven and I broke up.”

Huh. I gulp my coffee. After I swallow, I say. “That’s what you wanted to tell me? Why would you think I care?” My question is genuine—I don’t care.

He sits back in his chair. “I… I don’t know. I thought you might.” He keeps his gaze focused on me.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

I exhale, take another sip of coffee, and say, “What happened with you and Haven?”

“She got pregnant.”

My eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

“You must have noticed at the dinner that she was pregnant.”

“Of course I did. I mean, are you serious that you broke up with her because she’s pregnant?” Incredulity makes my voice rise.

“You know I never wanted kids.”

“I know, but… it happened. You’re going to be a father, whether you like it or not.” I gape at him. Would he renege on his parental responsibilities? Surely he’s notthatdespicable?

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll support her and the kid. I just don’t want to live that kind of life.”

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