I smile as I realize that this news has done exactly what I wanted it to do. It’s given Grandma a small thread of hope that she can hold onto for the next few months. I only hope that Molly will feel the same way.

I arrive at the pub at 7.15 p.m., just as Link is setting out two frosty pints of beer in front of Chris. As usual, Chris is sitting in the last seat at the end of the bar. When he sees me, he throws me a curt nod. He’s still not over what happened at the pancake house.

“Hey, man,” I mutter as I take a seat next to him. “Is this Pliny?”

“What else would it be?”

We sit in silence for probably five minutes, but it feels like an hour. I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to Chris that would make this situation less awkward. Then he says something that makes me feel even more awful.

“They blew us off. There won’t be an open adoption. We got the letter this morning.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what to say. I thought that telling you about … about Senia was the right thing to do. I fucked up.”

“Why? It’s not like…”

I have a feeling he was about to say, It’s not like you can keep the pregnancy a secret. We all know that’s not true. Chris and Claire are living proof of what happens when you hide a pregnancy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Chris continues, then takes a long swig of his beer. “It’s over. Abigail isn’t going to know us. But it’s just the beginning for you two. Don’t do what I did. Don’t fuck it up.”

I stare at the rising bubbles in my glass as I try to absorb these words. “I won’t.”

Chapter Sixteen

Senia

I can’t believe I’m moving off-campus … for a guy! What have I become? Eddie asked me to move in with him at least a dozen times over the summer and I never caved. Just once was all it took from Tristan’s oh-so-suckable lips and now I’m glancing around my cleaned-out dorm room to see if I’ve forgotten anything. There is no hope for me.

I throw an almost-empty bottle of pear-scented hand lotion into the waste bin then I sit on the edge of my bed and lie back to stare at the ceiling. Claire walks in and smiles as she catches me rubbing my belly, but I can see the months of regret etched in that smile as well as the weariness from this past week she’s spent grieving the loss of Abigail.

“Tristan and Chris should be done unloading everything in an hour. Want to grab a bite to eat on the way there? You must be hungry after all that packing.”

I want to tell her it’s not fair that I get to have a baby just as she and Chris have lost theirs, but I don’t want to slow any progress she’s made since she received the news on Sunday. The open adoption they had their hearts set on is not going to happen. They will never have a chance to know the daughter Claire gave up for adoption in April unless, by some merciful twist of fate, the adoptive parents change their minds or their daughter decides to track them down when she turns eighteen. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like to lose a child whose body you’ve snuggled in your arms, whose name you’ve whispered in your sleep.

“How about we just lie here and talk about boys? For old time’s sake.”

She lies down next to me and I hook my arm in hers as we stare at the ceiling and talk about everything we’ve been too busy to talk about for the past few weeks. She gives me all the gritty details about the first night she spent with Chris a couple of weeks ago and I tell her about the brief, yet satisfying, conversation I had with Eddie a few days ago where I told him to “Delete my number from your phone and try to slam your tiny cock in a heavy door.” When the conversation runs thin, we head over to Tristan’s house in Cary – my home in Cary.

Chris and Claire don’t hang around because she has too much studying to do, and I don’t know why Chris thinks this is so funny, so we say our goodbyes out on the curved driveway then I head back into the house. I find Tristan upstairs, ripping the tape off my moving boxes.

“Are you going to unpack my things, too?” I ask as I take a seat on the low platform bed in this guest room. Tristan’s house has five bedrooms and eight bathrooms. That’s just ridiculous.

He glances at me over his shoulder as I lie back and his gaze slides over me, pausing a bit too long at my chest. “Which box has the stuff from your goodie drawer?”

I laugh and the sly grin on his face makes my heart stutter. “There’ll be none of that,” I say, grabbing a fluffy white pillow and hugging it to hide my chest. “I need to unpack and study. Get out of here.”

“Don’t you want to shower?”

For a moment, I can’t breathe as I imagine Tristan naked and dripping wet. I shake my head to loosen the image then I stand from the bed. “Actually, yes, I’d love to take a shower.” I grab my make-up case and my handbag where I stuffed a plastic bag containing all my toiletries. “I know where the bathroom is.”

He grabs the back of my T-shirt before I can leave the bedroom. “You can use the shower in the master bath. It’s much bigger.”

I wriggle away from him and step aside so he can lead me to the master bedroom. My pulse is pounding in every part of my body as I follow him down the hallway and into a bedroom so huge I’m certain I could fit six dorm rooms in here. He leads me past the modern furnishings and I discreetly glance inside his walk-in closet. It’s a little messy, but there’s definitely enough room in there for my clothes.

Stop it, Senia!

“Why are you grinning?” he asks me as we enter the master bathroom.

“No reason. Just excited to get clean and get some studying done.”

He shows me how to turn on the shower and he stays until he’s certain the water is the right temperature. “The handheld shower-head has a pulse-mode,” he says with a wink.

As soon as I’m cleaned up and changed into something that doesn’t smell like the inside of our ancient closet in the dorm, I make my way downstairs with my book bag and my cell phone. I pull my laptop out of the bag and sit back on the sofa in the living room to get some work done. I don’t know where Tristan is, but I don’t have time to care.

My phone rings as I’m opening my laptop and I’m not at all surprised to see it’s Tristan. “What?”

“Want to play hide-and-seek?”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious. I’ll let you hide first. The refrigerator is home base. I’ll count to thirty.”

He hangs up and I roll my eyes as I try to think of a good reason to play hide-and-seek with Tristan that has nothing to do with sex. Finally, I close my laptop and set it down on the coffee table.

I don’t know my way around this huge house very well yet, but I guess a game of hide-and-seek should help with that. I have no idea where Tristan is, so I set off toward the kitchen. I’m thinking I should try to hide somewhere downstairs – somewhere far away from the bedrooms. I open a glass door that looks like it leads to a cellar, when suddenly I hear the sound of a door opening. I scurry inside and close the door softly behind me.

Dashing down the steps, I reach the bottom and find a warmly lit wine cellar with a few barrels in the corner. I crouch down behind one of the barrels and realize, not only is my heart pounding with the anticipation of being discovered, I’m grinning like a crazy person. The sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs has me frozen. I cover my mouth to muffle the sound of my frantic breathing.

“Are you hiding in my cellar?” Tristan’s smooth voice sends a chill over my skin.

I try to make myself even smaller, but it’s hard to do that when you’re almost six-feet-tall without heels. His footsteps are getting closer. He lets out a soft chuckle and I’m certain he’s found me, but many years of playing hide-and-seek with my sisters taught me that you never come out of your hiding place until someone taps your shoulder. Never assume you’ve been caught.

I wait another thirty seconds, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, until the sound of footsteps traveling up the staircase surprises me. Opening my eyes, I slowly lean my head to the side to peek around the barrel. He’s gone.

I want to laugh triumphantly, but I have to make my dash for the refrigerator as quickly and quietly as possible. I creep up the stairs slowly, being careful not to step on any creaky stairs. At the top of the stairs, I peek in all directions beyond the glass door and see no movement. I burst through the door and just as I’m about to make a mad dash for the refrigerator, Tristan grabs me around the waist and I let out a wild scream.

“Got ya!” he says through his laughter as I attempt to push him away.

“That’s not fair!” I squeal. “You’re supposed to tag me if you find me. You’re not supposed to ambush me!”

“I couldn’t resist. You really thought you’d picked a good hiding place.”

I sigh as I take a few steps away from him. “Your turn to hide.”

He smiles at the sound of the challenge in my words. “You’re never going to find me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Close your eyes,” he says and I reluctantly do as he says. I can’t see anything, but I can feel the warmth of his breath on the side of my face. “Don’t forget to count to thirty.”

When thirty seconds is up, I open my eyes and head straight for the stairs. Something tells me I’m going to find Tristan naked in the shower – or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I search the master bedroom and bath and the entire second floor, but I come up with nothing. I search downstairs, even searching the cellar in case he decided to be cute, but he’s nowhere. I head for the backyard and search behind the outdoor sofas, inside the pool supply closet. I even peer up inside the outdoor fireplace to see if I’ll find Tristan propped up in there, covered in soot and looking sexy as ever. No such luck.

I walk past the pool, peering into the depths in case he’s hiding under water. Then I realize I know where he is. I open the door to the steam room and Tristan is lying on the wooden bench with his eyes closed and his shirt off.

“You think you’re so clever.”

He smiles as he opens his eyes. “Oh, sorry. It was so cozy in here, I didn’t hear you come in. Sure you don’t want to join me.”

I can’t help but stare at his rock-hard, glistening chest. This is what he wants. He wants me to give in to these urges and forget about my homework. Forget about everything else but him. And it would be so easy to get lost in Tristan.

“I have to study,” I say as I exit the steam room and he quickly follows after me. I grin as I imagine how cold it must feel out here to him after leaving the sauna with no shirt on. “Next time you want to play hide-and-seek, call Chris.”

Chapter Seventeen

Nine Years Ago

I walk into the master bedroom at Elaine’s house and I’m not surprised to find a girl lying spread-eagle on the bed wearing nothing but a black bra and panties. She looks young, maybe sixteen years old, with straight blonde hair that’s fanned out over the pillow under her head.

“She’s ready for you,” Elaine whispers from somewhere behind me. Maybe she’s not whispering, but I can barely hear her over the blood rushing through my ears.

My gaze darts toward the corner where a fat guy in a T-shirt and jeans sits on a chair with his hand on his belt buckle, readying himself. I look back at the girl on the bed and I get an urge to know her name – this girl who’s almost as young as I am and probably stuck in this impossible situation the same as I am. She closes her eyes, but she keeps them closed for a moment too long, and I know. I know she doesn’t want to be here. She’s probably saying a silent prayer to help her get through this.

I turn around and Elaine’s gaunt face is contorted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”