Prologue

PROLOGUE

PHILADELPHIA — PRESENT DAY

RIPLEY – AGE 28 {QUINCY – AGE 33}

N o, no, no, no. It can't be true. I close my eyes and then look at the pregnancy test again, hoping for a different result. Peeling them open, I find that it still has two lines.

Deep breaths, Rip. Deep breaths. Mom did it alone, you can too.

Maybe it's a false positive. Yes! That's it. It happens all the time, right?

I grab the second test I bought and place it by the sink next to my toilet. Downing a large glass of water, I wait. It's not like I can pee on demand six minutes after I last went to the bathroom.

I look at myself in the mirror. My long, curly, red hair is down and looking good, but my skin appears unusually pasty. This is my first northeast winter. It's not actually winter quite yet, but it feels like it to this California-raised girl.

Needing a distraction, I walk into Arizona's room. It's empty without her. I miss her so much. My best friend is shooting a bathing suit ad campaign in Fiji right now, only one week into her two-month worldwide shoot.

She's going to look amazing. She has the perfect body for it. I doubt I'd ever be asked to do a skimpy bikini campaign. I'm what you'd consider, "curvy" or "big boned." Of course, those are the nice words. I've had plenty of the nasty ones slung at me throughout the years.

Nonetheless, I'm doing a bit of modeling for plus-size lingerie right now. It's been very empowering, and the company called me back this week asking if I'm available to work with them again.

The younger me laughs at that fact. I was incredibly insecure about my body for a long time. Now I do my best to embrace it.

A smile finds my lips, knowing the boost in my confidence is in large part thanks to one special man who made me feel sexy. Because of him, I eventually learned to accept my own body.

My daydreaming is broken by the ringing of my text tone. Looking down at my phone, I notice that it's my teammate, friend, and neighbor, Kamryn Hart.

Kam: Get your sweet tits next door. I want to pregame, and my sister is MIA. Again!

Kam's identical twin sister, Bailey, is her roommate. She nannies for a single father and has recently been needed many more evenings than in the past.

Kam and Bailey live in the apartment next door to us. It's been fun having our entire college crew back together again. We've all played on separate professional softball teams since we graduated six years ago. A few months ago, we were all signed by the new team in Philadelphia, the Philly Anacondas.

Arizona, our catcher, is dating Layton Lancaster, the star of the local professional baseball team, the Philadelphia Cougars. Layton has been Arizona's dream man for as long as I can remember. I'm so happy for her that they found each other and fell in love. She's had a bumpy road and deserves all good things.

Her brother, Quincy, the longtime object of my affection, is on the Cougars too. In fact, he and Layton are best friends.

Our group has become close with several of the Cougars players, including Layton and Quincy. We're meeting them for drinks at a bar, Screwballs, tonight.

Me: How do you know that my tits are sweet?

Kam: Don't all gingers have sweet tits? It's practically the law.

Me: LOL. I think you're right. Give me a few. I just got out of the shower.

Not true. I'm dressed and ready to go, but I need to find out if I'm pregnant. This will change everything. I realized several weeks ago that my period was late, but it took me until now to work up the courage to buy the test and take it.

Kam: Hurry the fuck up.

I let out a laugh. She's so impatient. And direct.

I think the water is finally doing its job on my bladder. Time to walk the plank.

Seven minutes later, I stand there in shock. I'm. Fucking. Pregnant.

I know what this means. I just officially lost the man I love. Forever.

An hour later, we walk into Screwballs. I'm doing my best to smile and act like everything is okay, despite knowing I'm going to have to do something that makes me physically ill.

In our regular booth, I notice my newer friends, Cougars players Ezra Decker and Cruz "Cheetah" Gonzales. Ezra has a girl with him who I've never seen before. Quincy is seated at the end, chatting and smiling, making my heart flutter.

He's the man who gives me whiplash. The man who I've been forced to love from afar and in the shadows my whole life. The man who's mine, but only in my dreams. I know what I'm about to do will be the final nail in the coffin of those dreams ever becoming my reality.

My hands start to shake. I need another minute to compose myself. "Kam, I'm running to the bathroom. I'll meet you in the booth. Try not to screw with Cheetah too much in my absence." Kam loves to mess with his head. She flirts and then usually, though not always, leaves him high and dry. Or they make bets as to who can score with a specific woman. Kam casually indulges in both men and women, and she always wins their bets.

I go to the bathroom, mostly to collect myself, but in part because I drank too much water. I'm sitting on the toilet when I hear two women chatting by the sinks.

A whiny voice coos, "I hear Layton Lancaster is on the prowl again. I hope he's here tonight. Best lay I've ever had. I'm definitely going home with him if he shows up."

Oh Christ.

The other woman responds, "Have you been seeing him on the down-low this whole time?"

Please don't let it be true. Arizona doesn't deserve this. Layton seems so in love with her. I refuse to believe it's anything other than the real deal between them.

"No, he hasn't reached out since she came into the picture, but now that they broke up, I'll be getting #laidbylayton again."

No you won't, bitch.

The other girl responds, "I didn't hear about any breakup. Are you sure?"

"There are pictures everywhere of his girlfriend making out with Butch McVey. Obviously they're over."

"Oh, I think you're right. I saw them on TMZ. I've been trying to get with Quincy Abbott for ages. He's so hot."

My head starts spinning. I want to yell that he's mine, but I can't. He's not mine. And I'm about to lose him forever.

The bitch who wants Layton scoffs. "Sorry, but you don't have a chance. You have a hot body. Everyone knows he likes fat girls."

I can't help the small smile that finds my lips at that revelation.

She continues, "He takes home a different fat girl every single night."

My face drops. It's not like I don't know he sleeps with countless women but hearing it doesn't feel great.

Before I know it, they're gone, and I'm headed back toward the booth. Quincy is sitting there drinking his beer. I stop to stare at him. He's so gorgeous. He always has been. I remember the first time I saw him as a little girl, when my crush first began.

He's a pitcher, like me. He's tall and lean, with dirty blond hair that's always a little too long and curls in the back. I have visions of running my fingers through that hair as his blue eyes look into mine. His body moving inside me. I ache for those times.

Sadness blankets me knowing I'll never have it again once I tell him that I'm pregnant.

He notices me approaching and cordially stands for me to move into the booth. I give him a small smile of gratitude as I slide in.

Before sitting back down, he asks, "What do you want to drink? I'll go to the bar and get it for you. The waitress is slammed tonight."

I shake my head. "I'm not up for a drink right now. Thanks anyway."

He shrugs and sits back down next to me.

The door to Screwballs opens, and Layton walks in. All heads turn when Layton Lancaster walks into a room. He's one of the most famous people in Philly, and he's obscenely attractive, with dark brown hair, blue-green eyes, and the most chiseled chin I've ever seen.

He slowly makes his way to the table due to his broken leg. It happened in a horrific collision at home plate in their World Series game nearly a month ago. He's in a cast with crutches. He was supposed to be in the bathing suit ads with Arizona but had to cancel after the injury. They were both devastated by it. Unfortunately, she was contractually obligated to go, so she left, and he's here in Philly, brokenhearted without her.

He plops down on the other side of the booth, his cast-covered leg sticking out .

Cheetah turns to Layton. "You're last to arrive, buddy. Pay the piper."

When Arizona and Quincy were kids, their mom started this rule that whoever was last to the dinner table had to tell everyone a random fact. It spread to our friends and teammates. Quincy brought it to the Cougars team, so now they all love to make the person who arrives last give a random fact. It's a fun little game.

Layton sighs. "Seriously? Have you seen how slow I am these days? I'll be last to everything."

Cheetah shrugs. "Sorry, man. You know the rules."

Layton thinks for a moment and then gives us a hopeful smile. "It's a proven fact that cuddling can relieve physical pain."

Aww. He misses Arizona. The guys said he's been miserable all week since she left. He won't even leave his penthouse. This is his first time venturing out.

I smile at him. "I like that one. It's sweet. Have you spoken with Arizona today?"

His face falls. "Yep. I got to watch Butch grope her via FaceTime for my benefit for what feels like the hundredth day in a row."

They replaced Layton on the shoot with Butch McVey, the most popular baseball player in the world. He's attractive, and photos are leaking every day of them in bathing suits with his hands all over Arizona. I'm sure it's hard for Layton to have to see that online each morning when he wakes up.

I take his hand and squeeze it. "It's not like she's enjoying it. She loves you and misses you."

She's just as miserable as him. She tried desperately to get out of this contract, not wanting to go without Layton. But the company wouldn't budge .

He lets out a long breath. "I hope so. This whole thing is fucked. I should have paid her way out of the contract."

Suddenly, we hear, "Hey, Layton." I recognize that ear-piercing voice. It's the whorebag from the bathroom who mentioned wanting to go home with Layton.

He rolls his eyes as he looks up at her and grits out, "Hi, Delta. Long time, no see. How are you?"

She bats her long, dark, fake as fuck eyelashes at him. "I'm well. I hear you're on the market again. We should hang out."

Layton shakes his head. "You heard wrong."

She holds out her phone for him. He stares at it with disgust before practically throwing it at her. "It's just a photo shoot. They're playing it up for the cameras. It's their job."

The slut won't take the hint that she's unwanted. "It doesn't look like an act to me. There have been photos of them on dates too."

I've had enough of this bitch encroaching on my best friend's man. I straighten my back and cross my arms. "He's not interested. Hit the road. No skanks welcome here."

She snaps her head toward me and looks me up and down. "What are you going to do, fat ass? Sit on m…"

Before she can finish spewing her nastiness, Quincy jumps out of his seat and gets right into the woman's face. "If you ever talk to her like that again, it will be the last words you utter."

Her eyes practically pop out of her fake eyelashes in fear.

Quincy then enlists the owner and has the woman thrown out of the bar.

Ezra tugs on Quincy's shirt. "Have a seat, Q. Relax, big bear."

Everyone at the table has shocked looks on their faces. They've never seen this side of Quincy. I have. Many times.

They know Quincy Abbott as the laid back, West Coast, happy guy. I know the animal within. My cheeks flush just thinking about what that animal is capable of doing to my body.

He sits back down next to me and looks at me with a tenderness that threatens to break me in half. "Are you okay?"

I give my best brave face. "I'm fine. It doesn't bother me. I've had comments like that my whole life. I'm used to it."

He lovingly rubs my face and I nearly moan. "It's not fine. No one should talk to you like that. You're beautiful. You're perfect."

My heart sinks. Him saying that to me in front of people is a big deal. Why now? Why does it have to be on the day that I realized I'll never have him?

I need to put an end to this. I lean in and whisper to him, "Don't touch me. We're over."

His face turns from caring to angry as he stands and nearly pulls my arm out of the socket. "I need to talk to you. Now!"

He pulls me until we're out of sight and out of earshot. He immediately puts his face in mine and snarls, "What are you talking about?"

I gently push him away, needing some physical distance. "Quincy, this hot and cold, back and forth thing we do is over. I'm done with it."

He shakes his head in disgust. "You can't just decide we're over. You're my wife."

Tears find my eyes. "I'm not your wife."

"The hell you're not. Check our marriage certificate, Shortcake, you're mine. My. Wife."

"On paper. Not in any of the ways that truly matter. I want a divorce. It's long overdue."

He shakes his head. "No. I won't give it to you."

"Quincy, it's time for us both to move on. We're not really married. We don't live as husband and wife. We both see other people and lead separate lives. No one else except a random justice of the peace even knows we're married. Not our families. Not our friends. No one." I steel myself, knowing I need to be strong right now. "It's time."

He crosses his arms in defiance. "Nope. Not happening."

"When you hear what I have to say, I promise that you'll want the divorce too."

"Over my dead body will I give you that divorce. Until death do us part."

Tears begin streaming down my cheeks as I say the one thing that will forever push him away. He'll want nothing to do with me when he finds out.

With sobs threatening to break through, knowing what this will mean, I manage to croak out, "I'm pregnant."

His eyes widen as what I've said registers. We stare at each other for several long beats.

Taking one deep breath, he does what I knew he'd do. Without another word, he turns and walks out the front door.