I’ve stared at a lot of scoreboards in my life. State finals. Championship qualifiers. The time we lost to Ridgeview by one lousy point in the fourth quarter.
But I’ve never stared at one like this.
A tiny, plastic scoreboard. A single, glowing blue plus sign. And it’s telling me I just lost the game.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head in misery. “Nope. Nah. Not happening. No way.”
I set the pregnancy test down on the edge of the sink, but my hand won’t stay away from it. I pick it back up immediately, like maybe if I blink fast enough it’ll change the result.
But it doesn’t. Still positive.
“This doesn’t make sense,” I mutter, pacing the tiny bathroom in tight circles. “This is… scientifically… impossible.”
Except, apparently, it isn’t. Not when you’re me. Not when some cursed psycho named Josh Reeves decides to play cosmic Snakes & Ladders with your anatomy because he couldn’t take a little ribbing once in a while and you now have one of the country's hottest pussies.
I lean against the counter, my lucky red hoodie pulled tight around me, except my luck just ran out. My reflection stares back: same sharp jawline, same crew cut, same broad shoulders every recruiter used to drool over. Until I got a perky rack tied down by a binder under that lucky red hoodie. They still drool, except now it’s because they wanna dick me.
I don’t look like someone who could be pregnant.
And yet…
How does this work? I didn’t even know I had a uterus. I don’t know whose baby it even is. The amount of loads I’ve taken in the last few weeks! It could be anyone’s. Even my dad! But I don’t want to think about that right now.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Jacks?” Tyler’s voice, warm but worried. “You okay in there? You’ve been in there, like… fifteen minutes, bro.”
I freeze. I need time. I need to breathe. I need… anything but this.
Tyler, with his dumb golden-retriever smile and his booming laugh, whose forgiven me for all the shit I’ve put him through in the last few weeks.
How do I tell him this? How do I make him see me the same way after? How do I make anyone?
I take a long, shaky breath, forcing words past the tightness in my throat.
“Yeah,” I call back, trying for casual and missing by a mile. “Just… thinking.”
There’s a pause, then Tyler’s laugh. “Thinking? In the bathroom? That bad, huh?”
I close my eyes. If only he knew.
I shove the test into the hoodie pocket, suck in a breath, and yank open the door. Tyler’s leaning against the wall when I open the door, all smiles and messy hair. But his smile fades the second he sees my face.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “What’s going on?”
My throat’s dry. My heart’s loud enough I’m sure he can hear it. And for a second, I almost back out. Almost pretend it’s nothing, make up some other crisis, let him keep thinking everything’s fine.
But then I picture him finding out later. Finding out from someone else. And that’s worse.
“Tyler,” I croak. “We need to talk.”
His smile fades a little. He straightens up immediately, he looks worried. “Okay… yeah. Sure. Talk.” He gestures toward his room. “C’mon.”
We sit on the edge of his bed, shoulder to shoulder. The silence is overwhelming.
Finally he breaks it. "Jacks, you're scaring me."
“Tyler,” I start, staring at the carpet, “something’s… wrong. With me.”
He laughs softly, nudging me with his shoulder. “Jacks, c’mon. You think I don’t know that?”
“I’m serious.” That gets his attention. He turns toward me fully, knees touching mine, brown eyes scanning my face. “Okay. Tell me.”
I pull the test out of my hoodie pocket and hold it between us. He stares at it. Then at me. Then back at it.
And for a second, the silence is so loud I swear I can hear the blood rushing in my ears.
“Is that…?” He stops, unable to say it. “Wait. Wait. That’s… are you saying you’re…?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, voice breaking. “I think you knocked me up, bro.”
Another beat of silence.
Tyler blinks once. Then twice. Then his jaw literally drops.
And then, instead of freaking out… He grins.
Like a full-on, big, ridiculous, almost like he’s from that horror film smile.
“You’re serious?” he squeals.
I just stare at him, dumbfounded. “Yeah? I mean, I think so, yeah.”
He lets out this breathless laugh and suddenly his whole face lights up. “Holy shit,” he says, leaning back a little, eyes wide. “Holy shit!! Jacks, this is... this is amazing. You're amazing!”
“Amazing?!” My voice cracks so hard it’s almost embarrassing. “Ty, I don’t even know if it… if it’s yours. I don’t know anything! I didn’t even know this was possible, okay?!”
He grabs both my hands to soothe me. “Hey, hey,” he says quickly. “I don’t care. Seriously. I don’t care who the dad is. If it’s ours, it’s ours. If it’s not, then it’s still ours. I want this, Jacks. I want you. And I want to have a baby with you. We’ll figure everything else out later.”
He leans in, forehead almost touching mine. “Listen,” he says softly. “I’ll be there. We’ll figure out doctors, next steps, whatever we gotta do. You’re not alone in this, okay? You're going to have my baby!”
I nod, but my mind’s still racing. Doctors. Next steps. Tests.
And buried under all of that, a thousand questions I can’t even start to unpack: Am I… a mom now? Do I give birth? Won't that fucking hurt?? Do I… breastfeed? Will I ever play football again?
Tyler squeezes my hand. “We’re gonna be fine, Jacks. Promise.”
I want to believe him. I really do.
And for a second, I think I do. He’s buzzing, like a golden retriever who’s just seen his owner pick up the leash for the daily walk.
He points at me. “We gotta get you checked out. Like, today. No, now. A doctor can tell us what’s going on. Make sure you’re okay. Make sure my baby’s okay.”
The word baby makes my stomach flip. I’m not ready for that word yet.
“You’re acting like I’m about to keel over,” I mutter. “I’m not dying.”
“Not on my watch, you’re not,” he fires back instantly, chest puffed out.
I sigh. “You don’t even have your car.”
He freezes mid-stride. “… Right.”
“The mechanic still has it,” I remind him. “Remember? Brake pads?”
Tyler blinks, processing. “Right. Right! Okay, no big deal, I’ll run and grab it. Fifteen minutes tops. You just… stay put.”
“Stay put?” I echo.
“Yes,” he says seriously. “Don’t move. Don’t lift anything. I don’t want you to put yourself under any stress!”
“Tyler.”
“Don’t even think too hard,” he adds, and I swear he’s only half joking.
He leans in and kisses me tenderly. "You're amazing, Jacks! I'm going to make you so happy!!" And I realise I do love him. Because he's my best friend. And a total sweetheart. And he will make the greatest father in the world.
Then he’s gone, his footsteps pounding down the hallway, followed by the front door slamming shut. I can hear him yahooing through the window as he races down the street, ecstatic.
And for a moment I’m alone. I laugh at his enthusiasm. And the absurdity of the situation. I peel back my hoodie and stare at my abs. I'm still ripped. No baby bump yet I guess.
For the first time today, part of me almost feels like maybe we can handle this. Maybe I can be a mother??
And then I hear it.
A door creaking open down the hall. Heavy footsteps.
I pull my hoodie back down, heart thudding.
“Tyler?” I call out, confused.
But the person who rounds the corner isn’t Tyler.
It’s Peter - Tyler’s older brother. (Check out Chapter Seven if you need a reminder of why I might not be so glad to see him).
“Jackson,” he says, like my name’s a challenge.
I swallow hard. “Peter. Hey.”
He leans against the doorframe, arms folded, eyebrow cocked. “Didn’t know you were here.”
“Didn’t know you were here,” I shoot back, voice coming out more defensive than I mean.
He studies me, “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I try to be nonchalant (and fail miserably). “… Nothing.”
He gestures vaguely toward the front door with one tattooed arm. “Tyler sounded like he just won the lottery. What’d you tell him?”
I hesitate, chewing the inside of my cheek. I could lie. I should lie. But Peter’s staring right through me.
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “I told him something personal. That’s all.”
Peter watches me for a long second, and there’s something in his gaze I can’t quite read. Then his eyes flick briefly to my chest, to the way I’ve got my arms tightly crossed over my torso (even though I’m sure I’m a long way from showing…). His brow furrows.
“You okay?” he asks, softer than I expect.
And that’s when it hits me… the weight of everything, the doctor, the test, the impossible future looming over me.
Before I can stop myself, the words slip out: “I… I think I’m pregnant.”
For a second there’s no reaction at all. Then he exhales slowly, leaning back against the doorframe, the beginnings of a smile on his face.
“Don’t,” I warn, pointing at him. “Don’t make a joke, Peter, I swear to God!”
“Wasn’t gonna joke.” His voice is low, steady. “You’re serious?”
I nod, barely. My hands won’t stop twisting together in my lap.
“I didn’t know you could…”
“Join the club,” I sighed.
He shakes his head like he’s trying to recalibrate. “And Tyler thinks it’s his.”
The way he says it isn’t even a question.
“Tyler… wants it to be his,” I say carefully. “And I want it to be his, too.”
Peter’s gaze narrows. “But you’re not sure.”
I look away, “… No.”
For a long moment, neither of us says anything.
Peter’s jaw works, like he wants to say something but stops himself. His gaze flickers back to mine, sharp and unreadable, and the air between us shifts. He exhales hard through his nose. Then he looks back to me… softer this time.
“You scared?” he asks.
I laugh under my breath, bitter and small. “Terrified.”
He takes a slow step into Tyler’s bedroom. Then another and another. And then he’s sitting next to me on the bed.
“Do you… need a hug?” he asks.
My brain short-circuits. Of all the things I thought Peter might say… THAT was not on the list.
I swallow. “…What?”
“You look like you’re about to fall apart.”
And even though part of me screams that this is a bad idea, that Tyler will be back any minute, that this is complicated and messy and dangerous. I lean into him before I can think better of it. I don't know if I'm laughing or sobbing. Maybe both?
He wraps his arm around my shoulders, slow and careful, pulling me just enough so my head settles against his chest. His other hand rests lightly on my shoulder, while his chin lowers just enough to graze my hair.
It’s disarming.
It’s confusing as hell.
Then his scent hits me. That combination of beer breath and fresh sweat. He must have been working that morning and I’m pretty sure he’s never worn deodorant in his life. It’s such a masculine musk. I could feel myself getting wet… as I remembered the stupidest thing I’ve done. Out of all the times I couldn’t control myself - Peter was undoubtedly the worst. Tyler was sick with covid and I let the brother he hates take control of my body and pump me full of his seed.
Peter’s arms tighten around me, slow and careful, and for a moment I feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my life. It just feels so good being in his arms. His chest is solid against my cheek, my nose so close to his pits, that smell driving me wild.
“Hey,” he murmurs softly. “It’s alright.”
I close my eyes. “Peter… I don’t know how to deal with any of this.”
Then slowly, carefully, Peter shifts. His hand slides from my shoulder… to my stomach. Right over the place where my baby might be.
He looks deeply into my eyes. “If it’s mine…” he whispers, “You won’t go through this alone.”
Something in my chest twists so hard I almost gasp.
I look up at him.
He looks down at me.
And slowly his hand slides down from my belly, ever so slowly heading south. We don’t break eye contact as his fingers slip under my sweatpants…
I give the faintest shake of my head… trying to stop him… trying to stop myself… pleading... I'm not strong enough to say no...
But it’s not enough.
We lean in to each other…
Our lips not quite touching… Just close enough to feel each other’s breath.
And then his fingers dig beneath the waistband of my boxer shorts, sliding across my clitoris and down to my moistening labia. His fingers glide across them for just a moment before he presses gently, pushing his way into my cunt.
My mouth opens as I gasp and he’s on me, pressing his lips against mine, hard, as we kiss passionately. His tongue slides into my mouth as he pulls me in tightly with one arm, his other hand fingering my wet pussy.
We both know it’s wrong. We both know we shouldn’t. But at this point, we also know it just has to happen. Because it feels so fucking good.
He quickly unbuckles his jeans, pulling out that meaty horse-cock I haven’t forgotten, as I yank down my sweats, revealing my hungry vagina.
He drops to his knees and dives face-first between my legs, suckling on my clitoris before devouring my hole, like a prisoner on death row eating his final meal.
I groan and squirm beneath his tongue, clutching onto his hair, pulling him into me, wanting him as deeply inside me as he can possibly be.
“Mmm… Peter… ohhhh… fuck!" I gasp as I writhe under his skillful touch.
Suddenly he breaks away, spits on his fingers (not that he needs to after that tongue-work, my juices are fully flowing), rubs it over his mushroom head, before gently penetrating me as I lie back on Tyler’s bed - Tyler, my boyfriend… Tyler, his brother…
His full cock slides easily into me and he immediately starts thrusting. We both know we don’t have much time.
“Oh fuck, Jacks,” he groans as he pounds me mercilessly. “You don’t know… uhh… uhh… how good you feel!”
I pull him in close, our tongues duelling, tasting my own pussy juices as his mammoth cock fills me up, sliding easily through me, despite his girth. I squeeze down on his shaft with my vaginal muscles, trying to milk that precious load out of him before his brother returns.
We stare into each other eyes, deep in lust and maybe something more, as his shaft pistons in and out of me, making me convulse with pleasure.
“Admit it,” he whispers.
“What?” I gasp, ready to admit anything in this moment.
“You like my cock better than Tyler’s. I know how to please you better, don’t I??”
Fuck! Why does he have to ask things like this?? I pull him in for a sweaty kiss to avoid the question. And then whisper, “Just be careful! I’m not sure if I should be getting fucked while I’m like this…”
He grins at me, knowing he’s right, as his breathing quickens. “Don’t worry… I’m so close to cuuu…”
And then we both hear it. Tyler’s car in the driveway.
We jerk apart like we’ve been electrocuted. Peter yanks his cock out of my wet hole and pulls up his jeans but I could see from his face and the sound of his gasps that he was past the point of no return.
“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!” he tries to smother his groan as he orgasms, waves of ecstasy making his muscular body tighten.
I watch in horror as a massive geyser of his potent sperm spurts out of his slick monster and splatters on Tyler’s pillow. Thinking quickly, I drop to my knees and swallow his spasming cock, letting it spew its milky contents down the back of my throat, concealing all the evidence before he could stain his younger brother’s bedroom any more!
At the same time, I quickly pull up my sweatpants, hiding all evidence of our sexual activity.
I could hear Tyler’s key in the front door!!
Finally Peter’s body stops bucking and his spurts slow down in my mouth, after dumping what felt like a full pint of seed down my throat. It’s definitely one hell of a protein shake! I push him away as he quickly buckles up his jeans, putting away his depleted balls.
He pulls me to my feet and looks deeply into my eyes.
“I meant what I said, Jacks,” he whispers before kissing me deeply, even though his cum is still all over my lips. And then he races off down the corridor before Tyler can see him.
I check myself in the mirror, trying to wipe off any tell-tale perspiration, as well as flipping Tyler’s cumstained pillow before he can see any of the evidence.
Tyler’s voice echoes down the hall: “Got the car! Let’s go, Jacks!”
“Coming!” I shout in reply, grabbing my backpack, dropping in a few breath mints as I race out to meet my boyfriend.
Tyler wraps his arms around me as I meet him.
“I’m so fucking excited, Jacks!! I’m gonna be a dad!!”
I smile at him, genuinely sharing his excitement as I push any doubt or concern deep deep deep down to deal with later!
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