Page 102 of One Baby Daddy
It’s been two hours since I left the ice, took a shower, and jetted to Binghamton. Coach wasn’t too thrilled about me taking a separate flight, but I lied and said it was a family matter. At this point, I feel pretty comfortable with the fact that the Quakes aren’t about to ship me to another team.
Although after the game today, they might have a good case.
My head was not in the game. It’s been hard to focus while on the ice, ever since Emma emailed me, but I’ve pushed through. Today was a different story though, because knowing I was hours away from seeing Adalyn, I was distracted. I couldn’t remember plays, I was missing shot after shot, and my focus wasn’t sharp like it normally is. What a fucking disaster.
The Uber driver turns onto Adalyn’s street, the quaint neighborhood barely lit by the yellow street lamps lined along the sidewalk. Five houses to go.
Four.
Three.
Two . . .
“This it?” the driver asks.
Glancing out the window at the small, white one-story home, I say, “Yup, this is it. Thanks, man.”
“Not a problem. Have a good evening.”
I step out of the car, my duffle bag in hand and survey her house. The living room light is on, blinds shut, but no sign of movement. Her car is in the driveway indicating she’s home, sending me into a fit of nerves.
Fuck. I shouldn’t be shaking over walking up to her house, but I am. I’m apprehensive about Emma’s reasoning for asking me to visit.
I guess there is only one way to find out.
With my heart pounding in my chest, my veins shaking, and my mind going a mile a minute, I walk up and knock on the front door. I plant the hand that’s not holding my duffel bag in my pocket and rock back on my heels, my breathing non-existent as my chest tightens.
The telltale sound of locks being unlocked echo through the silent night air right before the door opens. It takes my eyes a second to adjust, but when they do, I’m greeted with a very shocked Adalyn at the door. Her hair is piled on top of her head, knotted in a messy bun, her face devoid of all makeup. Eyes wide, mouth parted in shock, she steps forward, partially closing the door behind her.
“Hayden, wh-what are you doing here?”
What am I doing here? Hell if I know at this point.
“Uh . . .”
“Who is it?” comes a male voice from inside the house, sending my head snapping to see past the door. I catch a quick cringe from Adalyn before the door is opened all the way up and reveals Logan standing protectively behind Adalyn.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.Is this what Emma wanted me to see? Was she trying to make me jealous? Did Adalyn set up this whole thing with Emma to throw her new relationship in my face?Why the fuck would Emma do that to me?
“Hayden, what are you doing here?” Logan asks, wrapping his arm around Adalyn, his hand resting on her hip.
Blood boiling in my veins, my eyes narrow in on the formfitting shirt Adalyn is wearing, the one Logan is stroking with his thumb, the one that . . .
Wh . . . what?
Is the light really that bad here or am I seeing things?
Peering at Adalyn, I watch her squeeze her eyes shut tightly and turn into Logan who pulls her into his chest.
My eyes go back to Adalyn’s stomach, wondering why she is holding it so . . . protectively.
Brow creased, head tilted, a light sheen of sweat glazing my skin, I keep my eyes fixed on her torso. When I speak, my voice cracks. “Adalyn, are you okay?”
Adalyn shakes in Logan’s arms. He soothingly rubs her back and whispers into her ear, but thanks to the quiet night, I can hear everything he says.
“Just breathe or you’re going to make yourself sick again. Take deep breaths, Addie.”
Sick? Again?
