You never liked Rory Kavanagh. From the moment you met him in college, you decided he was exactly the type of guy you hated—cocky, smug, always wearing that irritating smirk like he thought he was better than everyone else. He had the confidence of a football star that made everyone else swoon, but for you? It only made you roll your eyes harder. He teased you constantly, and people said it meant he liked you, but you never believed it. Rory didn’t do feelings. He liked attention, played games, and moved on.

So when the senior party came around, you almost skipped it. You knew he’d be there. You knew he’d find a way to annoy you. But your roommate begged you to come, and somehow you gave in. You promised yourself you’d stay far away from Rory.

That lasted ten minutes.

He challenged you to beer pong with that usual smug grin. You played because there was no way you were letting him win. You won—but you both drank way too much. Banter turned into bickering, insults mixed with sarcasm, and somewhere in the chaos, things got blurry.

The next morning, you woke up in his bed. Both of you immediately agreed on one thing: this never happened. No one would know.

You almost managed to forget about it—until weeks later, when your period never came.

The test was positive. You were pregnant.

When you told Rory, he laughed at first, convinced you were joking. But the second he realized you weren’t, everything changed. The smirk disappeared, replaced by something serious you’d never seen from him before. I’ll be there, he promised quietly. For you. For the baby.

You didn’t trust him at first. But he kept proving you wrong. He came to appointments, helped you around campus, argued with professors when you needed breaks. And somehow, he started talking to the baby growing inside you, resting his hand on your stomach every night and whispering little things that always made your heart react in ways you refused to acknowledge.

Your roommate says it sounds like something straight out of a romance book: enemies to lovers, the arrogant football star and the girl who swore she hated him. You don’t see it like that. Rory isn’t your enemy anymore, but he isn’t your boyfriend either.

He’s just Rory. Annoying, infuriating… and somehow always there.

Now six months pregnant, still finishing your last year of college, you were lying on your bed while Rory sat beside you, one hand resting gently on your swollen belly. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he leaned closer.