Page 3 of Playing for Keeps
I couldn’t imagine my life without Ethan. It was like imagining a world without gravity.
Ethan’s face reflected his uncertainty.
And fuck, I wanted to touch him. A hand on the shoulder was in the appropriate friend touching category. But as I reached across, eyes intent on his face, I accidentally knocked his wallet off the table.
“Shit. Sorry.” I leaned down. The wallet lay open on the floor, along with a piece of paper that must have been tucked inside.
I picked it up, blinked at it a few times.
It was a copy of an ultrasound photo, the size of a polaroid. Printed at the top was a name: Charlotte Hunter.
I straightened and frowned at Ethan. “Why do you have Char’s ultrasound photo?”
Ethan’s throat worked hard. “I…uh…”
As he stammered, my brain connected the dots—and the most awful picture in the world emerged.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
I struggled to draw breath into my lungs. It felt as if I’d been winded by an illegal tackle.
“Please tell me you’re not the father.” There was a pleading, desperate edge to my voice I’d never heard before.
Ethan’s face was full of regret. “I’m sorry.”
My heart felt like that sugar packet. Ripped open. The contents spilled all over the table, never to be intact again.
Ethan and Char. Having a baby. Together.
Bile rose in my throat. Fuck. I was going to be sick.
I threw down the ultrasound photo and stumbled to my feet, desperate to make it to the bathroom before I shared my stomach contents with the floor.
Ethan’s eyes were wide as he watched me. “Luke.” He half stood, reaching an arm out toward me. I put up a hand to stop him.
Why hadn’t I been honest with him about how I felt? Why hadn’t I told him? Now it was too late. Everything was ruined.
“I’ll never forgive you for this.”
I didn’t know if it was Ethan or myself I was talking to.
Chapter1
Ethan
The Marauders’ Christmas party.
If an alien landed on Earth and wanted a demonstration of the word ‘mayhem’, this would be a great place to start.
It was a good thing we’d hired the whole restaurant, or there’d be other patrons flooding social media with photos hashtagged #whenrugbyplayersgowild.
The Christmas party was one of the few chances we had to completely relax as a team. When we socialized during the season, everyone had to abide by a strict code of conduct. Plus no one wanted to overindulge close to a game or they’d end up on Coach Clark’s naughty list.
I hadn’t seen some of the guys since the end of the season months ago, so it was a great chance to catch up. And since there were still a few weeks until pre-season training started, Coach appeared relaxed about the amount of booze being guzzled.
But it seemed to be a law of physics that as the consumption of alcohol increased, so did the number of stupid stunts being pulled.
Okay, okay, I admit it. I was the one who rearranged the reindeer decorations in the corner into inappropriate positions. But hey, didn’t Rudolph deserve some hot sex in reward for all his hard work lighting the way for Santa’s sleigh?
