Her brows drew in. “It’s yours, Bradley.”

Turning his back to her, he walked away, going to the windows as he looked out of them, his hands folded across his chest. “I didn’t expect this. We used condoms.”

“I know.”

“And you’re on birth control, I thought.”

“I am, though I don’t take it as often as I should.”

He looked over at her. “So you trapped me?”

She glared. “You’d better be joking.”

He didn’t answer; he just looked away as her heart started to speed up.

This didn’t feel right.

As he started to pace, she watched him, her blood beginning to boil. She didn’t like his comment, nor did she like the way he wouldn’t look at her. Clearing her throat, she watched him as she said, “Okay, well, I know this is a lot at once, and it’s a lot for me too. But we have something that could pose an issue—my inheritance.”

His face wrinkled up as he snapped, “How does that have anything to do with me?”

She glared at the side of his face. “It has to do with you because your baby is inside of me, and I’m not thirty yet. So if I have this baby before I turn thirty and I’m not married, I’m fucked.”

“Then don’t have the baby.”

Her jaw dropped. Actually dropped, almost catching flies. “Excuse me?”

Still looking out the window, he shrugged. “Go get an abortion.”

“What?”

“Listen, I don’t want this. I don’t want a kid, and fuck, this is going to mess everything up.”

Her heart was in her throat. “Mess up what?

Turning to her, he yelled, “I’m marrying fucking Fieldsman’s daughter.”

It was as if he’d hit her. Reaching out, she braced her hand on the window. He had been seeing the girl, but he swore it wasn’t serious. They were just cool; it was business as he said. But marriage? “What? You said you didn’t want to get married.”

“I know, but I have no choice.”

“You do. You can marry me and help out the mother of your child.”

“No, I can’t. I was going to tell you tonight, that we had to break this off. For good.”

Drawing in a breath through her nose, she shook her head. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So listen,” he said, walking around her and to his desk, but she didn’t move as the tears gathered in her eyes. “Go get an abortion. It’s for the best. Here, this should cover it.”

When she opened her eyes, he was filling out a check before holding it out to her. Shaking her head hard, she muttered, “I don’t want your money.”

“Take it, Wren. Please. I can’t have this fuck up what I’ve got going for me. I’ll have more stock in this firm once I marry her.”

Her lip started to tremble. “But I’m having your baby.”

“I don’t want it,” he said simply. “I don’t want any of it. She will get pissed. She’s already so jealous and thinks I’m fucking around.”

“You are!”

“I know, but not anymore. So, please, get rid of it.”

“I can’t.”

“Wren, come on!”

“You can’t do this. We’ve known each other our whole life.”

“I understand that. So please do it.”

“No.”

“Don’t be stupid, because I’ll deny it. You fuck around. Everyone knows it, and I’ll deny the kid is mine. You’ll have to take me to court to prove it. But by the time that happens, you’ll already have it before your thirtieth birthday, so you’ll be fucked anyway. Just do the right thing. Get rid of it, Wren.”

She wouldn’t let her tears fall. Not for this fucking douche. “I thought I knew you, you selfish asshole.”

The words didn’t even faze him. He glared at her. “I thought I knew you. How could you let this happen? We were never serious. We were just fucking.”

Looking down at the ground, she bit into her lip to keep the tears from falling. Yeah, he was right, but she thought she’d meant more to him than just a fuck. “Just fucking, huh?”

“Yeah, it isn’t like we love each other. I mean, come on. You’re not even my type.”

“Your type?”

“Wren, come on,” he said simply, holding his hands out. “You’re not trophy wife material.”

She was going to deck him. “I can’t believe this.”

“Just take the check.”

He held it out once more, and her eyes landed on it through her tears. She should take it. It really was the only option, yet she knew she couldn’t.

Meeting his gaze, she swallowed hard as she shook her head slowly from side to side. “No.”

“Wren, don’t be an idiot.”

“No.”

“You’re being fucking stupid—”

Standing erect, she stepped over to him, her eyes burning into his and completely cutting off his words. She was sure her eyes were full of heat, full of rage because his words shook her. To the core. She wasn’t sure who this man was, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the father of her child. Over her dead fucking body. “Fuck you, Bradley. I don’t need your money or even you. So. Fuck. You.”

And with that, she walked away.

With no clue what she was going to do now.

Except for the certainty that she wasn’t killing her baby.

Jensen Monroe’s heart was in his throat.

And it had been there throughout the whole series thus far.

Standing between the pipes on the other end of the ice, he watched as the Assassins trickled shots at the opponent’s goal. His heart was pounding, almost choking him as he watched the Capitals take possession of the puck before starting toward him. Dropping into his stance, his eye on the puck, he watched as a player passed it back to the defensemen, who took the shot. But Jensen saw it completely, batting it away. Unfortunately, it didn’t go to one of his players, instead to another Capital, but Jensen was there, blocking each shot as it came in.

He had to be.

He had to help his team win.

The whole series up to this point in the Cup run hadn’t been easy. Everyone thought it was, though. The Nashville Assassins were being called a shoo-in, the sure winner because of how much they had dominated, but no one knew the truth. That Lucas Brooks was on one bad hip but still giving his heart. That Jayden Sinclair sat up night after night watching tapes of the other team just to make sure he could give the team the best direction. That Vaughn Johansson barely slept because his nerves were eating him alive. That Coach hardly went home because he wanted to make sure everything was right for the following day. Everyone was working, everyone was full of nerves, but they all had one goal.