Oh my God. Nine months. Eighteen years.

The world was spinning too fast. Days and nights were flying by. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe. “Jesus. I can’t handle this.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means, I know exactly how you’re feeling right now. You’re hoping I’ll just get rid of it so it won’t be your problem and you can go on with your life.”

I jumped off the couch, enraged. “Natalie, I never said that!”

“You didn’t have to!” she yelled. “I know how you feel about kids, Miles. They get in the way of everything. They’re expensive and they disrupt your sleep and your drinking habits and your sex life!”

Fuck, I had said that, hadn’t I? Fuck! “Well, how was I supposed to know this would happen?”

“You weren’t. Forget it, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Oh God, now she hated me. “Natalie, wait. I’m sorry—”

“I’m sorry too, Miles. I’ll let you know what I decide, but don’t worry. I won’t ask you for anything. You can go ahead and move to California.”

“Don’t say that. Please.” I love you. I’m just terrified right now. Give me time to think.

“Goodbye.” She ended the call and I stood there, frozen, the phone still at my ear. I was sweating buckets, but started to shiver.

“Fuck!” I threw my phone on the couch and fisted my hands in my hair.

Natalie was pregnant. Pregnant! With a baby! An actual baby!

I fell back onto the couch and lay there with my hands over my face.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” I groaned. This was so far beyond my adult zone I couldn’t even form a sentence. A relationship was one thing, but a child… I was the least qualified person I knew to be a dad. My own hadn’t been around that much. I had no uncles I was close to. The truth was Mr. Nixon was probably the best example of a good father I’d seen in my life. And he’d always been so nice to me—what would he say when he learned I’d gotten his daughter pregnant?

Oh God, I was such an asshole.

And she knew it. She’d thrown all my stupid remarks about being a husband and father right back in my face. But a guy could change his mind, couldn’t he? If he met someone who made him feel something he’d never felt before, if he learned something about himself—like that he was capable of falling in love—he should be allowed to take back what he said. Suddenly I was angry. She wasn’t even giving me a chance to do the right thing. She was just assuming I was the same old Miles I’d always been.

Because she doesn’t know you love her. You never told her.

Chills swept over my entire body, and I felt as if everything I’d ever wanted was right in front of me, and I had to grab it now or risk losing it forever. Was I scared? Fuck, yes. But what if this was my chance? If I blew this, Natalie would never forgive me, and some other guy would come along and fall in love with her and do things right. She’d always be the one that got away. But what if this baby happened for a reason? What if this was the universe banging me over the head with the best thing that had ever happened to me?

This wasn’t a mistake.

I grabbed the phone off the couch and called her back, but she didn’t answer. Her voicemail picked up as I was running up the stairs to pack a bag. “Hey,” I said. “I need to see you. I’m driving up.”

A bit short and not exactly heartwarming, but fuck it, I was flustered.

Five minutes later, I raced back down the stairs and grabbed my phone charger, computer bag, and the keys to the house up there. Frantically, I looked around, feeling like I needed more things, a better plan, a fucking clue what I was doing. But I couldn’t think of anything.

I locked my apartment and flew down the hall, tapped my foot impatiently in the elevator, and ran like mad through the parking garage. Thankful I had a full tank of gas, I was on the road within minutes, and figured if I didn’t hit terrible traffic, I could be there by nine o’clock tonight.

That gave me just over four hours to figure out what the hell I was going to say to her to convince her to let me in. To let me love her. To let me be a father to my child.

My throat closed up, and my vision went a little blurry.

I had no idea how to be a father, but I would sure as hell try.

I let his call go to voicemail, mostly because I was crying too hard to answer, but also because I didn’t really want to hear him talk anymore. Maybe that wasn’t fair, since it was his baby too, but his reaction had been exactly what I thought it would be, and even though it wasn’t a surprise, it still hurt.

Ten minutes later, I listened to it, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Why was he coming here? What did he need to do, crush me in person? Would he try to sweet talk me into getting rid of it? Offer to write me a check so I’d just go away? My stomach churned just thinking about it.

I called Skylar.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. I told Miles.”

She gasped. “What did he say?”

“Not much. He was in shock.”

“Of course. So were you. So was I.”

“Right.”

“And wait ’til you tell mom and dad.”

I frowned. “You’re not helping, Sky.”

“Sorry. So what happened with Miles?”

“He basically said he couldn’t handle this and didn’t know what to do, and we hung up.”

“Ugh. Not helpful or supportive.”

“Nope, no surprise there. But then five minutes later, he called back.”

“And?”

“And said he needs to see me, and he’s driving up.”

Another gasp. “Really?”

I grimaced. “Really.”

“What do you think he’ll say?”

“I think he’s either going to be all sweet and persuasive and try to convince me to get rid of it because life is all about fun and games and we’re too young to be saddled with this, or he’ll offer me money.”

“Money for what?”

“I don’t know. To leave him alone so he can skip out to California unencumbered?”

“I think you’re selling him short, Nat. I’m on your side no matter what, but I do think you could maybe cut the guy some slack. You just told him you were pregnant. You’ve had days to think about this—he’s had minutes.”

“Yeah,” I said grudgingly. “Maybe.”

“What do you want him to say?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. This is such a fucking mess.”

“Just hear him out. He deserves that, at least.”

“Why?” I snapped. “Because his dick has good aim?”

“No, crabbypants. Because you’ve been friends forfuckingever, and you care about each other, and no matter which way you look at it, this is his baby, too.”

Baby. I sighed. Every time someone referred to it as a baby, I melted. There was no way I could end this pregnancy—deep down, I knew that. I believe in a woman’s right to choose, but politics aside, this was something Miles and I had done willingly. We’d taken the risk because we trusted each other. We cared for each other and always had.

“Fine. I’ll listen.”

“Fair enough. You need anything? I’m just getting to the grocery store. I could bring you some dinner.”

“No, that’s all right.”

“OK. Call me tomorrow.”

“I will. Night.”

We hung up, and I puttered around the house for a while, aimlessly wandering from room to room, picking things up and putting them down, idly wondering where I’d put things like a crib, a high chair, a rocker. Pretty soon, I felt too restless to be contained by the walls, and I grabbed a swimsuit and went to the gym. A swim always cleared my head, and it had never felt more muddled than it did right now.

But what was I going to do about my heart?