We’re quiet for a while, the both of us overthinking everything, I’m sure. I know I am. The curtains are still open, letting in light from outside, and my eyes start to get heavy. Maybe we could take a nap. This day has been so totally overwhelming, in both the best and scariest possible way…

“Would it be such a bad thing, though?”

Jordan’s deep, rumbly voice wakes me up, and I blink up at the ceiling, confused. “What would be a bad thing?”

“You getting…” His voice drifts and he pauses for a moment before he spits out the word. “Pregnant.”

I pull away from him and sit up, shocked awake by what he’s saying. “Are you serious right now?”

He sits up too, leaning against the headboard. “I don’t know. You’re acting like what I’m suggesting is the end of the world.”

“Because maybe it would be the end of the world! We only just walked back into each other’s lives. Having a baby because of unprotected sex won’t solve whatever problems that might arise.” I can’t even believe he’d think it might be a positive thing—having a baby together. I mean…

Okay, I dreamed of having babies with him when we were younger. Because I was a romantic teen who wanted to give Jordan Tuttle my whole entire world.

Plus, the possibility of me getting pregnant? I can’t help but think of stupid Harvey Price and his views on opportunistic females who are only looking to earn a payout upon having a famous football player’s baby.

I know Jordan told me not to worry about Harvey, but I can’t help it. That’s the first thing he’d assume if I became pregnant. That’s what everyone would think of me, because everyone would know. The news would hit the internet, all the gossip sites, ESPN, everywhere. It would suck.

It would suck bad.

“You already think we’ll have problems?” He sounds hurt.

“All relationships have problems, Jordan. We’re not an exception. And we’re definitely not perfect,” I point out.

“But you know we’re pretty perfect together.” He rests his fingers against my lips before I can protest. Drops them w

hen he realizes I’m going to be quiet. “Hear me out. I couldn’t tell you this when we were out on the street with everyone watching us, but when you sent me that DM on Instagram, I couldn’t believe it was you. At first, all I wanted to do was show off how great my life was and rub it in your face that you could’ve had your chance. If you hadn’t broken it off, your life would be pretty fucking great too.”

Wow. I always assumed that, but to hear him say it…I believe that’s the most brutally honest Jordan has ever been with me.

“I invited you to my game, fully prepared to diss you afterward. I figured you’d bring a friend with you when I offered up two tickets, but no. You actually brought that guy. Cade.” He spits his name out, like it’s a dirty word.

“Jordan. You told me to bring him,” I point out, and he waves a hand, dismissing my words.

“I know. Like an idiot. Seeing you with him, I was consumed with jealousy. I wanted to kill him. I didn’t like how he stood next to you. Or when he touched you. It pissed me off. He pissed me off,” Jordan explains.

“Did I piss you off?” I ask quietly, surprised by the anger in his voice.

“No. Never. I took one look at you and realized you were even more beautiful than the last time I saw you. I just wanted to steal you away from him. That’s the moment when I realized.” He hesitates, his gaze lifting to mine. “I wasn’t over you, not even close. I’ve never been over you. Spending these last few weeks together has been so incredibly easy, Mandy. It proved to me that we belong together.”

His new, more heartfelt admission makes my head spin. And my heart hurt. But in a good way. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

We watch each other for a moment before he murmurs, “You know exactly what to say.”

Emotion threatens to choke me and I shake my head, feeling helpless. “I already told you that I’m not over you. Is that what you want to hear?”

I feel like I’m about to fall apart, yet he’s sitting there grinning at me. And Jordan Tuttle rarely grins, trust me on this one. “That works, yeah.”

“What else do you want me to say? Do you want me to admit that I’d love to have a baby with you, but the thought of actually having a baby scares the shit out of me?”

His eyes grow darker, reminding me of that look he gets when he wants me.

Uh oh.

“A baby scares the shit out of me too,” he says, scooting closer. “But if it happens, we can figure it out. Together.”

“What if it doesn’t happen?” I ask warily, watching as he shifts even closer. He’s within touching distance. Neither of us reach for each other yet.