I pressed my palm flat against the chipped door, trying to steady my heart rate. I'd been standing outside the apartment for the last five minutes trying to hype myself up and force my hand into a fist to knock. Every time I tried, I got cold feet and started to retreat to the parking lot where nobody awaited me. I'd promised Ash when she dropped me off that I'd have a way home.

That had been a lie, but I refused for her to give up her life because of a mistake I made. I suppose if Dalton didn't completely freak and kick me to the curb, it was possible I'd have a way home outside of the bus, but it wasn't likely.

"Can I help you?" the quiet question came from a few feet behind me, and I immediately spun and crossed my arms over my chest.

The man stood only a few inches taller than all five-four of me, but he was stocky, his black henley stretching across his broad chest on the verge of tearing as he shifted the twelve pack of beers from his left to his right hand and fished his keys from his pocket. When he lifted his head again, a strand of his blonde hair fanned his forehead and his brown eyes softened a little.

"Dalton." I breathed, making a gesture with my thumb at the apartment over my shoulder. "Dalton Ambrose gave me this address."

As if his name were the connection the man needed, he cocked his head to the right and raised one of his light brows. He didn't even bother being civil or at least waited until I'd turned around to check me out from head to toe. It made my already sour stomach churn and if Ash hadn't drove me forty-five minutes to get here, I would have turned and walked off then and there.

"You're Harley." It wasn't a question, and I didn't respond. When he finally came to the realization, I had no desire to talk to him, he shrugged a shoulder and slipped passed me to unlock the door. He didn't invite me in but left the door wide open as he disappeared into the apartment.

I hesitated for a second before I shook off my anxiety and stepped through the front door. I pressed it closed behind me, and when I turned again I found a very shirtless Dalton perching himself on the arm of the leather sofa opposite a plasma.

"Hey." he smiled and even one hundred percent sober, it did things to my body that I refused to acknowledge. "I see you met my idiot brother Dylan."

Dylan lifted two fingers up in the dining room as he opened the case of beer. "She's not very talkative."

I raised a brow and almost laughed. I guess Ashley was rubbing off on me, because it took every ounce of willpower I had not to snap about his wandering eyes and being a creep.

"Can we talk?" I jerked my chin toward the hall. "In private?"

Dylan snickered. "Aw, come on, Harley. I won't tell. I don't even have anyone to tell."

I channeled my inner Ash and shot him a look that had him holding his hands up in surrender and ducking out of view to load the fridge.

Dalton smiled again and made a gesture for me to join him on our trek down the hall. We stopped at the end of the hall, him lingering outside the door on the right, and he stepped in, then moved so I could join. Once he'd closed the door, he didn't even give me the chance to sigh before he had me cornered with his arms on either side of me, trapped with his chest flush against me. The only thing between us was my thin tank top, and if given the opportunity I had no doubt he'd have discarded it if I didn't jerk my entire body to the right to keep from falling victim to his words and perfect smile.

"I didn't come here to hook up." I stated aloud as he clearly hadn't gotten the hint and rested his hand against my hip a second after I'd moved away from him. "We need to talk, Dalton. Seriously."

Hearing the desperation and catch in my voice, he backed away and eyed me from his bed. When I made no attempt to advance toward him, he fell back with his arms flexed behind his head and stared at the ceiling fan, awaiting my explanation.

"I went to see my doctor yesterday." I whispered, then louder, added, "I've been feeling like shit."

He sat upright suddenly, and snapped, "I didn't give you anything. I told you I was clean when I asked if we could go without the condom."

I turned away, staring at the carpet under my white sandals, trying to recall the conversation. I had no memory of it.

Unable to muster up enough courage to tell him verbally, I pulled the ultrasound pictures from my back pocket and the pregnancy confirmation paperwork from my OBGYN and slowly set it on the black comforter under him. He stared at me for a moment, bewildered, then dropped his gaze to the life-altering information that was now beside him. I tried to tear my eyes from him, knowing it was likely I wouldn't be happy with his reaction, but they remained glued to him, anticipating his next words.

For a moment his brows rose, his fingertips brushing the sonogram, before he pressed them fully between his calloused index finger and thumb. Slowly, as the realization set in, all color left his face and his jaw set.

"Dalton." I breathed after what felt like an eternity of tense silence. "Say something."

I should have left good enough alone, as his next words were a hardly audible, "You're sure it's mine?"

I closed my arms over my chest and averted my attention to the open window, the light breeze rustling a burgundy curtain. "You're the only person I've slept with in the last four months, Dalton."

"You're sure?"

I stared him down, unsure if he were seriously questioning that notation. "Yes, Dalton. I'm pretty sure I know when and if I sleep with someone."

Though, I had hardly any memory of the night I'd slept with him, I had been aware I'd done it. I had remembered his name and face, and most of the stuff he'd told me proceeding my last shot and us making out. Everything after that was there too, it was just all kind of a blurred montage.

"Are you keeping it?"

"Yes."

He obviously hadn't been expecting that answer, because his head whipped up from the ultrasound so quickly I assumed he'd hurt himself when he squeezed his eyes shut and brought his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Harley, think about what you're doing. You a college freshman with no job still living with her parents." he said. "You have an entire career planned and this kid is going to be a huge obstacle in you reaching that."

I tried my hardest to keep my composure. "You do not have to be involved in its life, Dalton. I came here today to give you the choice. I wanted you to at least be aware of the situation."

He rose to his feet shakily, and I suppose at some point of him sitting and staring up at me, I'd forgotten just how much taller he was. I was suddenly under his intense stare, fidgeting with anxiety as he closed the distance between us.

"I need some time to think." he eventually says, tucking a loose strand of my dark hair behind my ear. "It's. . . it's a lot to take in right now. Can I have some time?"

I blinked, repeating his words to myself, then nodded, "Yeah, of course."

Despite his question, he leaned forward and kissed me softly, his forehead resting against mine, and lips lingering just a second too long to be a peck. "Did you need a ride back home?"

*

I sat in the passenger seat of Dalton's Nissan, eyes on my parents house at the end of the driveway. Both Range Rovers were parked a few feet away, and the fear I'd had telling Dalton started to return and intensify at the thought of having to face my mom with the news.

"I can come in with you if you think it'll lessen the blow." Dalton commented behind me. I threw a look at him over my shoulder, a bit surprised to find him slumped back against his seat, one hand still resting on the wheel, the other extending across the console to touch his hand to my thigh.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I responded without hesitation. My mother would grill him, and given his current circumstances, she'd kill any chance of him agreeing to be involved in our baby's life. "My Mom is very . . .opinionated. She's already going to have a heart attack when I tell her about the pregnancy."

He tensed and focused his gaze straight ahead, on the stop sign at the end of the neighborhood. "You don't want to be seen with me. You don't think I'm ready for this, do you? That I'm good enough?"

I swallowed the knot forming in my throat and whispered, "I don't know you, Dalton. But my mom doesn't even think I'm good enough. It isn't personal."

"And what if I decide to be involved." he asked, grasping my hand. "Will I get to meet them at some point or are you just going to keep me a secret forever?"

The words were laced with an unmistakable hurt.

"Of course you will, Dalton. Just. . . everything is so fresh for everyone right now. Let it settle down."

He nodded. I nodded, then climbed out. He waited until I'd moved to the curb to flash me a weak smile that didn't meet his eyes through the open window and speed off down the street, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust.

I turned on my heel and inched my way up the driveway and to our front porch. The minute I stepped through the front door I was greeted by my father, sitting on the edge of the middle cushion of the gray sofa, eyes trained on the TV as he watched whatever sport was in season across the screen. Mom sat in the recliner on her laptop, her fingers dancing across the keys. Both were momentarily distracted from their tasks by me shutting the door behind me. Dad paused the game and smiled, but Mom immediately sensed my discomfort, shut her laptop, and snapped, "What's wrong? What'd you do? Do I need to contact my lawyer?"

I flinched at the harshness of the words, but shook my head in reassurance. "No, Mom. But I. . . I need to talk to you."

My parents exchanged a look before Dad smiled and offered up, "What's wrong, baby girl? Is everything okay?"

I knew he'd be my only saving grace in the moment, so I kept my eyes trained on him, hopeful to avoid the immense amount of disappointment that would fill my mothers eyes. "I'm pregnant."

I hadn't planned to tell them like this. Hell, I hadn't planned to tell them at all, not until I started showing more. But with my funds running low and not having my own vehicle, I could use all the help I could get from both of them right now.

"W. . . what did you just say?" Mom sputtered, shooting to her feet. "Did you just say you're pregnant, Harley Jane?"

I refused to look in her direction as I nodded. "Yes."

"Oh, Har." Dad sighed, burying his face in his hands and shaking his head from side to side. I stood strong, even with tears stinging my eyes and my entire body trembling, I wasn't going to crumble under my mother's disapproval or my father's disappointment. My baby was going to need me to be the strongest I'd ever been these next eight months and probably an entire lifetime after that.

"Years, Harley." Mom huffed. "I spent years telling the three of you girls to be safe. I bought you condoms. I put you on birth control. I ensured you had everything you needed. How in the world did this happen."

"Antibiotics." I answered, finally meeting my mother's dark, cold stare. "I had just gotten over the sinus infection a week prior and it cancels the birth control out, Mom. Plus, I forgot a few pills because I was so sick. I didn't think—"

"That's right, you didn't think!" her voice rose as she threw an arm out in my direction. "All the money we spent so you could get into this college. All the hours I spent explaining everything to you. For what? For you to flush your entire future away for a mistake?"

The tears I'd managed to keep at bay since my visit with Dalton finally started to fall.

"The baby may be a mistake, but it doesn't mean I'll love it any less, Mom. I can still go to school. Ash said she might be able to help with a job."

Mom massaged her temples, as Dad finally interjected himself into the conversation.

"And the father? Who's the father? Is he involved?"

I thought back to the hurt in Dalton's voice and the kiss in his bedroom, then turned to my dad. "Yes. He's going to be involved."

"Does he have a job?" Mom demanded. "A good one? I'm not talking some below minimum wage job at a crappy fast-food joint either."

I bit my lip hard to keep from spitting the cruel words on the tip of my tongue at my mother. "Not everyone can be a CEO of a company, Mom."

"Does he make enough to support the two-well now three-of you?" Dad questioned much nicer from the couch. "We only want what's best for you, Har. This is a huge change and shift. You're about to age ten years in the next nine months. Your world as you know it will change. There won't be anymore partying or late nights, your schedule will revolve around your child and not your needs or wants. You may have to put college on hold. You'll learn so much in such a little amount of time make so many mistakes. Your mother and I just want you to understand what you're getting yourself into."

"Would you rather I kill it?" I growled, spinning on my mother. "Because that was so easy for you right? You think I don't hear you crying to Dad about how much you regret the abortion you got when you were my age? This is my body. I know that termination might be the right choice for some and that's okay. It's just not for me and I need my parents to be supportive of my decision, not against it. If you can't learn to support this, Mom, then I don't want you in their life. Or mine."

Without another word, I brushed passed my shocked mother and stalked down the hall, slamming my door so hard behind me it shook on its hinges.