Page 13 of Reticent

You know what? Fuck it. “I’m pregnant. And it’s yours, in case that wasn’t obvious.” I’m met with dead silence. “Hello? Hunter?”

“Is this a joke?”

I’m floored. Is he kidding me right now? “Why would I joke about something like this?”

“We had sex six, seven months ago.”

“Twenty-nine weeks, to be exact. And we didn’t use a condom. Gross, I know.” I wrinkle my nose.

“Wait. We used a condom. I always use a condom. Perhaps you have me confused with someone else.”

I ball my hand into a fist and press it against my mouth. Lord, give me strength. “No. I don’t have you confused with someone else.” Asshole. “And the first time, we did use a condom. But not the second time.”

“Fuck.” He doesn’t scream it, but he enunciates every letter of that word the same way I uttered it when staring at those two pesky pink lines on a pregnancy test. “I’m sorry. I—”

“I think I’m done with this conversation for now.”

“Wait.” The urgency in his voice keeps me from hanging up. And when he exhales, I feel it in my bones. “I want a paternity test.”

I don’t respond, needing to get my emotions under control. “Of course,” I finally say.

“I’m not trying to be a dick.” He sounds apologetic, but he can still kiss my ass.

I purse my lips. “That’s debatable, but okay.”

“I’ll have my lawyer set up paternity testing for us.”

“Your lawyer?”

“I prefer all communication to go through her until we know. I’ll be in Saint Lucia for another week. But I’ll take the test out here.”

Saint Lucia? Sounds romantic. Insert eye roll and sarcasm here. “Sounds good.” I have zero energy to give anything more to this conversation.

“Thank you for finding me.”

“Yep.”

“If this baby is mine, I’d want to know.”

If.

I hate that we put ourselves into this position, but I don’t regret my baby. I already love him so much. But his daddy, that’s another story.

Chapter Seven

Trying not to think about the impending paternity results hasn’t been easy. Not even working or working out at a new gym has helped. Every text message, DM, or incoming call I get, I think it’ll be Hunter. When it’s not, I’m both relieved and disappointed.

I don’t know what to expect from him once the test confirms what I already know. It’s been five days since we took the test, and I haven’t heard a peep from him or his lawyer. I assume that will change once the results come in. When Hunter returns from Saint Lucia, will he contact me himself? The last time we spoke, he thanked me for finding him. Did he mean it? Does Hunter genuinely want to be a father? I won’t obsess about it. And I will not, under any circumstances, check my email again for the results.

Maybe just one more time.

I curl my hand around my mouse and log out of Dandridge & Wesson’s portal. Chewing on my thumbnail, I log into my personal email. In bold type with other unread messages, the email in question sits in my inbox. If I’ve received the results, so has he. I click to open it as my desk phone lights up with Niko’s extension flashing across the screen. I pick up the receiver. “Ready to go?”

“I’m buried in work,” Niko says.

I check the time on my computer screen. “We have reservations at six thirty. How much more time do you need?”

“Just go without me. I already texted Sky. Next week. I promise we’ll all get together.”