Page 37 of Crossing Arizona

The only one unfazed is my sweet baby girl, who immediately reaches for Xed as he hesitantly lowers himself into the lake.

“Like this, look.” She points into the water excitedly, grinning wide. “Kick your feet like this. Remember?”

“I remember,” he mutters, his face glowing red as he avoids everyone’s gaze. My chest tightens as I watch them drift in circles, Xed’s indulgent smile growing whenever she tries to show him how to doggy paddle. There’s so much love in his expression and it feels like a blade to the heart.

I only snap out of it when Valerie floats into my peripheral, her eyes flashing angrily before she masks it with a too-sweet smile.

“I think I’m done with the lake for today,” she says pointedly. “Let’s go inside.”

There’s a warning in her tone, one I know better than to ignore. So, I nod, forcing myself to follow Val back to the house, feeling Xed’s gaze burn into my back with every step.

Wishing, desperately, that it was his hand in mine instead of hers.

College Sophomore Year

Chapter sixteen

“Xed, sit down. You’re driving me crazy.”

Pacing a groove into the floor, I throw Matty’s sister a sharp glare over my shoulder in the hospital waiting room.

“How the fuck aren’t you freaking out right now? She’s high, Jenna. The baby wasn’t even due for another two months!”

She sighs, her white-blonde hair bouncing as she rises from her chair. “I know. But it’s going to be okay, I promise. Babies are born premature all the time, and this hospital is the best in the state.”

“I’m kind of with Xed on this one,” Taylor mutters, looking as ragged as I feel, slumped against Christian. He just spent six months behind bars for physical assault—another weight on my already crumbling conscience. “Premature is one thing. But Valerie’s cracked out of her mind right now.”

God, I hate her. I fucking hate her.

My hands curl into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms as my chest heaves. What kind of mother does this? What type of person?

Jenna steps closer, her palms raised like she’s talking to a wounded animal. “Xed, you being pissed off right now isn’t going to help Matty or the baby.”

I round on her, my voice shaking with anger I can’t contain. “And what is? Sitting here twiddling our goddamn thumbs? Pretending everything’s fine? It’s not fine, Jenna. It’s never fine with her.”

Christian reaches out, gripping Taylor’s shoulder like he’s holding them both together. “Jenna’s right. This isn’t about Valerie right now. It’s about the baby. Focus on that, man.”

Jenna’s hand hovers near my arm. “Do you want Matty to see you like this when he walks through those doors?”

Her words hit like a gut punch, stealing my breath.

I drop into the nearest chair, burying my head in my hands.

The past seven months have been rough—rougher than I thought possible. Helping Matty prepare for a newborn while Valerie fucked off to do whatever she wanted has been like running a marathon with no end in sight.

Initially, she wanted to give the baby up for adoption. Said she wasn’t ready, didn’t want the responsibility. But Matt wasn’t having it. He swore up and down he’d quit football and drop everything if it meant being a full-time parent. Said his kid deserved better than being handed off to strangers.

Jenna and I wouldn’t let that happen. No way. We agreed to step in and do whatever it takes to ensure he keeps his grades up and doesn’t lose his scholarship.

“Are your parents coming?” I ask Jenna, my hand twitching to tug at my hair before I remember the mohawk’s gone, shaved down to a strip.

“They said they’ll be here as soon as they can,” she replies, crossing her arms tightly. “Mom’s in Georgia for work, and Dad just got to Idaho.”

Good. Matty’s gonna need all the support he can get, especially with his baby mama out there stuffing whatever she can find up her nose instead of stepping up.

My jaw clenches, the anger bubbling under the surface barely kept in check. Matty deserves so much better than this mess.

As if on cue, the double doors to the labor unit swing open, and Matty steps through, looking utterly drained, his hospital smock hanging loose over his clothes.