Page 145 of One Baby Daddy
“What’s your point, Racer?”
The driver swerves to the side, drawing my attention to the front where he’s playing around on his phone. Uh, can he please concentrate on the road? Someone is not getting a five-star rating, that’s for damn sure.
“My point is, you need to figure out why you’re out there.”
“Did Hayden call you?”
“No.”
I drawl out his name, “Racer, did he call you?”
“He didn’t. Why, what happened?”
I cross my leg and rest my hand on my belly, a new habit I’m becoming accustomed to. “Logan told me he loved me then the next day, Hayden and I, umm . . . you know.”
“Had sex. It’s okay to say the words.”
Not when I’m in an Uber car two feet away from the driver.
“Yes, that. And I must have fallen asleep after, because the next thing I remember is waking up next to Logan, him holding me and caressing me. It was so real that when I woke up, I freaked out and couldn’t get away from Hayden quick enough.” God, I really hate myself. “I then proceeded to tell him about Logan.”
“Oh, Adalyn.”
“I know,” I groan. “Ugh it was a mess. Racer, he was so distraught.” Taking a second to gather myself, I say, “He told me he loves me.”
“Of course he does, Adalyn. Christ, you’re just realizing that? I could tell he loved you when he was still here in Binghamton.”
A tear trickles down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away, not wanting the Uber driver to catch me crying, making me the odd story he tells his friends and family at the end of his day.
“I don’t know what my problem is. Why can’t I just let him love me? Why am I having such an issue with this?”
“Because he’s the first guy you’ve ever loved, and it’s terrifying. He’s the first guy who’s ever treated you like you deserve to be treated. The first guy to stick around. The first guy to capture your heart.”
“And he left.”
“No, Adalyn, you left.” The way he emphasizes “you” sends a fearful chill up my spine. “You were the one who left. You gave up before he even have a chance to break your heart.”
“I didn’t want to hold him back.”
“You’re holding him back now,” Racer says, fighting with me. “You’re holding him back from being the man he wants to be. Damn it, Adalyn. He wants you, he wants the baby, he wants a family . . . with you.”
Another swerve of the car. Sitting up, I say, “Sir, could you please not look at your phone while you drive?”
“Is everything okay?” Racer asks, extremely concerned.
Whispering into the phone, I say, “Yes, the Uber driver is just texting and driving. I’m actually on my way to Hayden’s game now to—”
My words are cut off when the driver misses a stop sign and sails through the four-way stop without even looking. It all happens in slow motion: the screech of wheels, me shouting “look out,” the Uber driver swerving, and the impact of another car to the driver’s side, careening the little Toyota Corolla into a small ditch to the right, hitting a fire hydrant.
Disoriented, confused, and upside down, water starts to flow into the car from the broken hydrant, and fills up quickly.
Chapter Thirty
HAYDEN
Never in my life have I played this hard. Not during the playoffs, not when being recruited, not even in college.
Each land of my skate on the ice, I push forward, skating faster, quicker, more precise. My footwork on fire, my stick handling incredible, my focus homed in on one thing and one thing alone: the puck and pushing it past the goalie.
