Page 39 of Your Sharpest Edge
That thought was the reason I needed to put up my boundaries. She was pregnant with her husband’s child. I wasn’t my father, so I’d never cross that line with her.
“Guess so,” I managed to say, keeping my tone steady before I walked into the showers.
I heard her shuffle out, and the moment the door shut, I broke down, letting myself feel everything. The past six months of friendship crashed over me, overwhelmed by unexpected feelings I had to stop. She was never mine. She was married.
“Fuck. I think I need to get laid,” I muttered.
I was getting confused and too caught up in my emotions. This wasn’t like me. I hadn’t been with anyone other than my hand in so long that it was messing with my head.
Tonight I was going to fucking let loose. I was going to do everything in my power to not think about Anastasia Sokolov because she’d never wear my last name.
sophomore year
14
alex
I think I was hallucinating because there was no way in hell anyone was calling me at two in the morning. We had a game tonight, and I had fallen asleep, so I must be fucking dreaming.
“No,” I groaned.
The ringing didn’t stop.
I glanced at the phone sitting on the wooden table beside me. We lost tonight because, for some reason, the owners decided to give our coach another year. Yet, the same issues persisted, and I was exhausted by it.
Why wouldn’t the phone shut up? I rolled over and noticed Coach was the one who was calling. Shit. At two a.m.?
I grabbed it. “What’s up, Coach?”
“You live with Sokolov?”
“Uh . . . no?”
Coach sounded frantic. “You live in the same building, don’t you?”
I sat up straighter. It was only October. The season had started. Although I hadn’t seen much of Anastasia these days. Iwent back to my old ways and preferred to get fucked up, which seemed to numb a lot of my pain. But once a month, she’d come by and bring a treat for me to try. I knew she wasn’t due for a couple more months, so it couldn’t be about her.
“Yeah,” I answered. “I do.”
“Where the fuck is he?” Coach barked.
He was out. He was always out. I had to start driving to another town because of how often I had to watch that piece of shit out at bars.
“No idea.”
“His wife called me frantically. She’s at the hospital and can’t get ahold of?—”
“Anastasia is at the hospital?” I shouted.
Throwing the covers off, I bolted out of bed and grabbed the closest pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt. I didn’t even let Coach tell me more before I grabbed my keys from the living room.
“Yes. She’s in labor early, and they tried to stop it, but the baby is coming, and I can’t get ahold of him.”
“Is anyone with her?” I asked hurriedly, knowing full well he isolated her.
She had no one except her mother, who was supposed to fly into town. Fuck. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, so I didn’t remember when she was coming to town.
“No. Her mom will be here in a few days.”
