Page 121 of One Baby Daddy
He doesn’t linger, he doesn’t part my lips with his tongue, and he doesn’t search for more. It’s a light brushing of our mouths, but it speaks a thousand unsaid words. He still has feelings for me. I know this. But there is something else . . . appreciation.
Like he’s thanking me for being the mother of our child.
Feeling weak and a bit wobbly, I pull away and tightly grip the strap to my purse, holding on to it like a lifeline.
I want to be with this man. I want to give him my heart. I want to be the one he spends the rest of his days with, but there is this dark, scary unknown that keeps creeping in on me full of what ifs.
What if he’s traded again?
What if he meets someone better on the road?
What if I’m too much for him to handle?
What if what we had in Binghamton was truly a summer fling, and we both don’t realize it until it’s too late?
What if I truly end up being alone?
Putting some distance between us, I reach for the handle of the door and put one foot on the pavement.
“Adalyn . . .”
“Thank you for dinner, Hayden. Good luck on your road trip.”
Now outside of the car, I give him a quick wave and shut the door before he can say anything else. Tonight was enough, seeing him fawn over the baby was enough, actually it was too much for my heart, my stupid, stupid heart.
When I open the door to my apartment, Logan is sitting on the couch, shirtless and in a pair of Nike shorts. He looks up from his laptop and takes off his black-rimmed glasses. “Hey.” His brow creases. “Are you okay?”
Maintain a neutral face. Do not cry. Logan will only want to talk about it, and that’s the last thing I want to do right now.
“Good,” I say with a cheery smile that feels so incredibly forced.
“Okay, you’d tell me if he said something to you, right?”
“Of course.”
I hang my purse on the coatrack in the entryway and take out my phone, Logan watching every one of my jagged movements. Does he notice how robotic I feel? Can he tell I’m on the verge of breaking down? Does he see my need to bury my head in my pillow?
“Where did he take you?”
Guess not.
“This really good waffle place. I’m stuffed though, so I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Eyeing me suspiciously, Logan says, “Okay, let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Night.” I give him a quick wave, skipping out on the hug he usually asks for every night and fast-walk to my bedroom where I shut my door and fling myself on the mattress, burying my head into my pillow.
I lie there for I don’t know how long, my tears silent, soaking into the pink Egyptian cotton sheet set. Why can’t I just say yes to Hayden? What’s holding me back?
Is it what James said to me in New York City?
I’ve seen it before, a woman takes down a man of Hayden’s caliber. I’ve seen them lose everything, and I don’t want that for Hayden. I only want what’s best for him.
Am I letting him get into my head?
Is it how quickly he went out with someone after we broke up?
Is it the high-profile woman he went out with? Does he deserve—need—someone like that?
