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exactly why I try to be honest and straightforward now. It might be harsh, but it beats being fake or afraid like them. With a lot of self-determination I managed to turn my life around, but our relationship has always been fucked up. I’m civil with my mom for my sister Hazel’s sake, but I mainly keep to myself.
    “That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m immune from the Blake DNA either. Commitment isn’t our strong suit . . . unless it’s something self-destructive, that is.”
    Lucas leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been sober for ten years, Ry. That’s a pretty big fucking commitment if you ask me. What makes you think you won’t have the same determination when it comes to your own kid?”
    “Yeah, and it only took about two days after finding out I’m going to be a father before I went out and bought this fucking thing.” I motion toward the bottle of Jack, feeling frustrated. Mainly at myself for being so weak.
    Lucas pushes himself to his feet and grabs the bottle off the table. He holds it in his hand and stares at it intently. He shifts his eyes to me and shrugs matter-of-factly. “But you didn’t drink it.”
    He casually tosses the bottle in my lap and heads to the door.
    Right before he lets himself out, he adds, “I know you’ll do the right thing.”
    I’m left alone to stare at the bottle.
    Fuck, I just wish I knew what that is.
    I think back to my tenth birthday, the last time I saw my father.
    My mom threw this huge party—complete with magicians, face painters, and a waterslide—which, looking back, should have been the first sign something was wrong. She always overcompensates with some fake ass “Look How Popular and Rich I Am” party when she knows damn well her life is superficial and empty. I remember thinking I was the coolest little shit that day, oblivious to anything going on around me.
    After we had cake and opened presents I wanted to show my dad the remote control car I got and went inside to find him. When I got to my parent’s bedroom door I overheard them talking. My mom said something about by him leaving her alone to deal with his kids and he responded that he didn’t care and we weren’t his problem anymore. He said he couldn’t stand her and their life together was a mistake and he was going to move on without us.
    As he left the room, suitcase in hand, smelling like the same bottle of bourbon he always drank, he passed me without saying a word. I called for him from the top of the stairs just as he reached the front door, but he never looked back. My mom came out of the room a minute later, also walked right past me, and went downstairs to talk to some of the guests like nothing ever happened. From that point on any time my sister or I tried to mention him, she would mumble something about a business trip and change the subject. Eventually we stopped asking.
    Years later I realized what a selfish bastard my father was and knew I would never choose to have a family if it meant I was going to be anything like him. I still can’t comprehend how he could just leave. My mom may have her own problems, but no woman deserves to be treated like that. I might not picture a future with any of the girls I fuck, but I make sure they know that so there are no mistakes and no regrets.
    And now that I’m faced with this impossible situation with Kelley, I’m scared to fucking death I’ll turn out just like dear old dad anyway.
    Fuck. My. Life.

Kelley
    Six Weeks
    “I’ m sorry, could you repeat that? I thought you just said you’re pregnant with Ryan Blake’s baby, but I must seriously need my hearing checked.”
    Kinsley stares at me, looking doubtful. I nod, trying to hold back tears. Damn, these hormones need to chill.
    Kinsley’s eyes soften as she looks wistfully at my stomach. “Well, I guess that explains why you look different. You’re glowing.”
    She smiles but I can’t help but answer dryly, “I’m bloated.”
    She leans forward