Page 110 of A Really Bad Idea

“I’ll see you guys at the hospital.” Dad looks unsure, but I assure him, “I just need five minutes.”

Neither of my family members seems happy about my staying with Brock, but I’m a grown woman who does what I set my mind to. They also can’t stay because Brian might end up breaking a bone from attempting to fight Brock. And, next time, he wouldn’t be catching the brute off guard.

“Do you need anything, Mr. Lannister?” Salvatore asks nervously.

“Ice,” Brock spits out.

“Yes, sir.” Salvatore goes to a back room, leaving me alone with Brock.

I move him to the bench, and the two of us take a seat. I cross my legs and arms. Brock sits with his legs wide open and rests his elbows on his knees.

“Your brother punches like a girl.”

“You’re just jealous because he got one in on you.”

Brock sways his head in annoyed agreement.

“You can’t keep stalking me in lobbies.”

Salvatore comes out with a Ziploc bag filled with ice and hands it to Brock, who takes it and rests it on his jaw. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he says and then walks outside to stand on the sidewalk, looking through the glass to make sure I’m okay.

I give Salvatore a thumbs-up and then look over at Brock. This six-foot-three, two-hundred-twenty-pound mammoth of a man is sitting here with a baggie of ice on his face. I start to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” His thick brows curve in at the sight of my laugh.

“You’re such a wimp.”

He looks at the bag of ice in his hand and chuckles at himself. He puts the ice on the seat beside him. “For the record, I’m not stalking. I wanted to stop by and say hi like an adult. This place looks good. They redid the floors.”

“Yeah. Last summer. The construction was a mess, but the new marble is good.”

“Did they ever fix the window that wouldn’t open all the way?”

I nod. “A few weeks after you left.”

“Good. Good.” He leans forward and plays with his ring. He clears his throat and says, “Sal looks tired.”

“Yeah. Carol’s been having some health issues, which is why he won’t retire. He says the property service union has great benefits.”

“It’s easy work, and he has nice people like you to buy him candy.”

I grunt, knowing Brock’s attempt at being charming is flattery. “Okay. Talk to me. Why are you here at eight o’clock in the morning? And I know it’s not to talk about the marble floor.”

“The baby is due in September. She wants to raise her in Boston.”

“It’s a girl?” My brows rise with the chill that shoots up my spine.

Brock having a child was ominous until he gave it a sex. He’s going to have a little girl. I bet she’ll be in skates before she can walk. An image of a chestnut-haired girl in an Islanders jersey comes to mind. Ironically, I never thought about what our kids would look like when we were together.

“Congratulations.”

He rubs his forehead and puffs out his lips. “Thanks, I guess. I don’t know what the hell to do.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore. She’s coming whether or not you want her to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want her.” He sits up straight. “I don’t want her mother or the responsibility. I know that’s a horrible thing to say.”

“It is,” I state as I grip the bench and tap my fingers on the edge. “And it’s honest. You didn’t plan on it, so no one can blame you entirely. What they can blame you for is what you do, moving forward.”