One Baby Daddy

by Meghan Quinn

  Smiling, I talk to text.

  Adalyn: Good thing I’m not telling you what I’m doing right now.

  He responds immediately.

  Hayden: Send me a picture.

  Adalyn: Never. Night, Hayden.

  Hayden: You’re mine, Adalyn. And I’ll be sure to show you that Saturday.

  With those last words read, I lean on the memory of his chiseled body above mine, his sexy voice rattling through my ear, and bring myself to orgasm for the first time since I’ve been without Hayden.

  And oh my God, was that much needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  LOGAN

  My brother’s words play on repeat in my head as I help Adalyn into her chair, her soft, brown hair brushing the back of my hand when she sits down.

  Do something, or you’re going to regret it forever.

  Moving out to California was the first step. Although moving away from Binghamton has been a wish of mine for a while. This was the perfect excuse to getaway, start a new chapter in my life, hopefully with Adalyn.

  Being there for Adalyn was the second step.

  Taking her to dinner is the third step.

  Making my move is the fourth.

  The fourth is what terrifies me. What if she turns me down? What if she still has feelings for Hayden? From the conversations we’ve shared, there is nothing going on between them, but after her date on Wednesday, she’s been weird, a little standoff-ish with me.

  That’s why I had to act quickly.

  But acting quickly means I didn’t have enough time to pump myself up, and fuck do I need time.

  This is Adalyn, the girl I’ve lusted after for years. The girl I foolishly screwed things up with.

  Because of nerves!

  Fucking nerves.

  I had the best fucking night of my life with her wrapped in my arms, and the next morning I blew it. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know how to react, and because of that I ended up saying the completely wrong thing.

  That was a mistake.

  Those words will haunt me until the day I die, I’m sure of it, especially if I’ve lost Adalyn forever.

  Why did I say those words? Besides being an idiot, because when I woke up with her by my side, I went to reach for her, and in that split second when my arm began to wrap around her . . . she flinched.

  Fucking flinched.

  I was spooked and instead of spending that morning worshipping Adalyn all over again, I balked and said the last thing that should ever have come out of my mouth.

  Now I’m in the midst of trying to win her back, playing the friend role with the hopes that when Jackass fucks up once again, I can swoop in and take the spot I never should have lost.

  Although, after the other night, it seems like my time is running out. So with Hayden out of town, I have to make my move.

  “That dress is gorgeous on you, Addie.”

  Blushing, she folds her napkin on her lap. “Thank you. It was the only nice thing that fits.” Scanning the dining area, she leans forward and whispers, “This place is really nice, Logan. You didn’t have to bring me here.”

  “I wanted to. Thought you deserved a nice night out, especially since the morning sickness has died down and you’re eating more. Thought a little celebration was in order. A feast-a-bration.”

  A big smile spreads across her face. “A feast-a-bration, I like that. Does that mean we can get two sides to share?”

  “You can get all the sides you want, Addie.”

  After Emma, Addie, and I graduated from college, one of the first things we did was go to a fancy steakhouse for dinner to celebrate. We always wanted to go to one of those places where the only thing served to you is a piece of steak on the plate, and if you wanted potatoes, it was an additional charge.

  Fancy and ridiculous.

  But we loved it. We ended up ordering way too much, spending a good chunk of our graduation money, and had the best time, drinking our champagne with our pinkies lifted high in the air.

  I wanted a repeat of that night. I wanted to remind Adalyn how great we are together.

  Staring at her menu, she says, “These prices are high, Logan.”

  I reach across the table and take her hand in mine, rubbing the back of her knuckles. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”

  “Oh no, I don’t want you to—”

  “I asked you out, Addie, so it’s on me. Just enjoy the night. The last few weeks have been hell; let’s celebrate what’s to come.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” I give her a wink and turn to my menu. “The filet sounds amazing with the truffle butter.”

  “And the roasted cauliflower with cheese and the salt-boiled potatoes with rosemary.”

  “And the house onion rings.”

  Peering up from her menu, she smirks. “Looks like we might need a to-go bag like last time.”

  Smiling as well, I say, “Leftovers at midnight are already calling our name.”

  “Yeah but this time, I won’t be drunk eating them.”

  “Which means you have no excuse to not follow proper leftover etiquette.”

  She shakes her head in mirth. “There is no leftover etiquette. If you eye it, you eat it. Simple as that.”

  “Which means some people don’t even get a chance to eat them.”

  She shrugs and takes a sip from her water glass. “The benefit of growing up in a big family. I learned to be quick on the trigger where food is concerned. I have no shame in it.”

  “Clearly.”

  We put our orders in with the waitress, I order a Coke and Adalyn sticks with her water, claiming she hasn’t gotten in her daily ounces yet today, but a part of me wonders if she’s sticking with water because it’s free.

  “How have you been liking your new job?”

  “It’s been good. The hours are much nicer; the doctors are awesome and have encouraged me to go for my degree to become a physician’s assistant. They have a program in the office that would pay for it after I’ve been there for six months.”

  “Really? That’s amazing. Are you going to do it?”

  I nod and take a sip of my Coke. “Yeah, being a nurse never was the long-term plan, but I wanted to see if the medical field was something I could do for life before going all the way, and honestly, I don’t think I could see myself doing anything else at this point. I love helping people.”

  “You were born to be in the medical field. You’re so kind and gentle with your patients,” she says.

  “So would you say I have excellent bedside manner?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You still have rough hands, they could use a little more lotion.”

  I hold up my hands for both of us to inspect them. “These are man hands. There is nothing wrong with that.”

  “They’re like sandpaper.”

  “They are not.” I laugh. “You’re so full of it. If we’re talking sandpaper, let’s talk about your elbows.”

  She points her finger at me, humor in her shocked expression. “That was one summer. How dare you bring that up again?”

  “Hey, you cut a hole in leather with those crusty elbows of yours.”

  “Oh my God, you’re the worst, I did not.”

  I shrug. “I have photo evidence to prove it.”

  “Fine . . . prove it.” She folds her hands on the table and waits.

  Fuck, she’s totally calling my bluff. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

  “Oh my God.” Adalyn leans back in her chair, pats her face with her napkin, and in the most ladylike manner, rubs her belly. “Now I know what they mean when they say you’re eating for two.”

  “Two?” I raise my eyebrows in question. “Adalyn, you ate for an entire platoon. What happened to leftovers?”

  “There are still leftovers, so don’t make it seem like I ate all the food. You had a part in this massacre as well.” She motions to the almost-clean plates.

  Playing with a potato on my plate, I say
, “It was really good, wasn’t it?”

  “So good I might cry myself to sleep thinking about that truffle butter.”

  “And you know, oddly, I was okay eating it even though in the Urban Dictionary it’s known as something else.”

  She scoffs. “Ugh, those Urban Dictionary people. They have taken a delicacy and ruined it with their perverted minds. They have taken away my ability to shout in the middle of crowded area that I love truffle butter. Jerks.”

  Chuckling, I say, “Because you’re often shouting into crowds about fine foods.”

  “I would more often if Urban Dictionary didn’t ruin it for me.”

  “Want me to write them a letter?”

  She plucks a piece of lint off her dress. “Yes, I think that might help. I get them wanting to be creative but if we could keep fine foods off the table, that would be appreciated.”

  “It’s a fair ask. I’ll craft my email tomorrow.”

  Nodding and closing her eyes, she says, “You’re a good man, Logan, a very good man.”

  Paying the check and grabbing our small amount of leftovers we head to the car. “There is an overlook over there, want to go check it out?”

  Adalyn looks over my shoulder and smiles. “Would love to. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the city at night.” We put the leftovers in the car and head to the lookout. There are a few people milling about but not enough to make it crowded.

  Walking to the rock wall, we take in the cityscape.

  “It’s so pretty at night. No smog distracting your view, glittering lights sparkling among the dark palm trees. Makes me think of La La Land.”

  I chuckle. “That movie. Don’t even get me started.”

  “Besides the end”—she touches my shoulder—“it was a good movie, admit it.”

  “I can’t admit to a movie being good if the end sucks. Sorry, but I will never be a fan.”

  “But . . . Ryan Gosling,” she defends.

  I shake my head. “That’s not going to work on me.”

  “Fine, Emma Stone.”

  I shrug my one shoulder. “Eh, she’s beautiful, but she didn’t give me the feelings like Rachel McAdams did when she was teamed up with Ryan in The Notebook.”

  “You’re absurd. Emma and Ryan by far have more chemistry.”

  Turning toward her, I point to my chest. “I’m absurd? You’re the one saying Emma and Ryan had more chemistry in La La Land, than Ryan and Rachel in The Notebook. Take a poll right now. Twenty bucks says Rachel and Ryan win. Go ahead ask the people around us.”

  Taking in the couples around us, she turtles in on herself and shakes her head.

  “Aha, because you know I’m right.”

  “No.” She swats at me. “It’s because I don’t want to disrupt their evenings with your childish ways.”

  “Ahh, I’m childish now, huh?” I wrap my arms around her and bring her back to my chest, my hands linking in front of her belly.

  For a brief moment, I pause, trying to memorize this moment. The way she smells, sweet and fresh. The way her hair brushes against my clean-shaven face, soft and airy. The way her body fits against mine, petite and curvy. The way my heart is so goddamn full at this very moment.

  “Are you cold?” I whisper into her ear.

  She shakes her head and sighs, looking toward the cityscape. “How many movie stars do you think are driving around the streets right now?”

  My lips curve up. “At least fifty.”

  “Got to be at least fifty. There are so many movie stars, and they’re always going places.”

  “Yup, always going places.” I chuckle. “Can’t stop those movie stars.”

  “Real busy bees. Do you think we’ll ever run into one living here?”

  Bending my head, I pull her in a little closer so her cheek is almost caressing mine, just a few inches shy. “I sure as hell hope so because then what was this move all about? The whole point of us relocating here was to run into a movie star. What a letdown that would be if we never once bump into Jake Gyllenhaal at Taco Bell.”

  “Blasphemy, that’s what that would be.” She takes a second to think and then says, “Is that who you want to bump into? Jake? Because I don’t recall you being a super fan.”

  “For some weird reason, it was the first name that came to mind. But now that you asked, who do I want to bump into? Hmm.” I take a moment to really think about my choices. So many celebrities, so many opportunities. “I guess if I had to choose one, I would say Mark Hamill.”

  “Mark Hamill as in . . . Luke Skywalker?”

  “The one and only.” I kiss the top of her head and squeeze her tighter. “What a freaking dream that would be.”

  “Huh, I kind of thought you would pick a girl.”

  “Why, when I have all the girl I need in my arms right now?”

  The minute she stiffens in my embrace, I know my words are unexpected, maybe a little too soon. Fuck though, I feel like I can’t hold back any longer.

  “Are you ready to go?” I ask, not wanting to have this conversation with random people milling about us.

  “Uh, yeah. It’s getting late.”

  The door clicks shut behind me as I lock up, while Adalyn walks into the living room, her hand playing in her hair.

  The car ride wasn’t silent like I thought it would be. Instead, we talked about the celebrity she would want to run into—Scott Eastwood, because The Longest Ride “did her in”—and what she would do if she ever did run into him. Her response was cute, which was most likely cry like a banshee while trying to talk to him at the same time. She’s confident that Scott, or Scotty as she likes to call him, would be very understanding and cool about her “fangirl” moment.

  We felt normal. We felt like the old us, but now that we’re home, I know I’m about to throw a wrench into our normal.

  Taking a deep breath, hands on my hips, I ask, “Can we talk for a second before you go to bed?”

  She’s in the midst of taking her shoes off when she nods, not knowing what’s coming her way. “Of course, what’s up? Are you moving out already?” She playfully pouts, and I can’t help but think, possibly, if this doesn’t go my way. There is no way I can continue to live with her if there is no future with her. That would be like dangling a glass of bourbon in front of an alcoholic. I know this because that’s what it has felt like for the last few weeks. Being friends with Addie is easy because I love her so fucking much. But it’s also brutal because I want more. Surely it’s our time.

  Nerves ratcheting up my spine, my voice feeling tight and shaky, I try to ease my body, telling myself this is Adalyn. I’ve known her for a long time, we’ve shared an amazing night together, there is no reason to be nervous, even if she moved out to California to be closer to the man she has a baby with.

  That’s nothing to worry about . . .

  “Not moving out.” I take a seat on the couch and pat the cushion next to me. “Take a seat.”

  Trepidation in her every move, she slowly lowers herself. “Okay, you’re starting to make me nervous. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” I say quickly, taking her hands in mine. “Everything is fine, I’m just . . . fuck, I’m nervous, Addie.”

  “Nervous? Why? Are you sick?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m . . . I’m in love.”

  “Oh.” She sits back, keeping her hands in mine, then she does the one thing I never would have expected her to do. She laughs.

  Brows pinched together, feeling slightly offended, I ask, “What’s so funny?”

  Removing one of her hands to mine, she presses it against her chest and says, “Oh, I’m sorry, Logan, I just thought . . . I don’t know . . . that you were sick or something, not that you were in love. I was preparing myself for this big cancer scare. You’re in love.” She squeezes my hand. “That’s amazing. Who’s the lucky girl?”

  Oh fuck, this is awful.

  This is so fucking awful.

  What’s worse than a girl laughing when you say
you’re in love?

  I have the answer. When she’s completely clueless as to who you’re in love with. Even worse when it’s her.

  Has she not noticed the way I look at her, the way I care for her, the way I fucking lust after her every night when we’re snuggled up close, watching Netflix? Have I not been obvious enough?

  “Who is it? Do I know her?” Adalyn continues.

  Wanting to punch myself in the face to end my misery, I nod my head, lips tightly pressed together.

  “Oh. Hmm . . . oh does she work at my office?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “It’s you, Adalyn.”

  Eyes rounded, mouth parted, realization hitting her, she stays seated next to me, and I watch as my words soak in.

  I don’t say anything else. I don’t know what else to say, because it’s almost as if the confession has made me tongue-tied. Like the look in her eyes, the deer in the headlights look has clammed me up. Hell, I don’t know what I was expecting.

  Best-case scenario: she fans herself and melts into my arms, telling me she loves me too.

  Worst-case scenario: she slowly backs away, moonwalk style, and locks herself in her bedroom where she pretends she doesn’t speak English.

  From the looks of it, I might see her cute self moonwalk out of this living room.

  “Ho-how long?” She breaks the silence but doesn’t look at me. I try to tell myself it’s nothing to worry about.

  “I don’t know, a few years now.”

  That gets her attention, snapping her head up, she parrots, “A few years? And you’re telling me now? I don’t . . . I . . . but you said we were a mistake.” Standing now, she begins to pace the living room. “You broke my heart that morning, Logan. Do you realize that? You made me feel so worthless, so . . . used.”

  Fuck.

  “That morning, that day, those words. I wish I could take them all back.” I stand, feeling awkward being the only one sitting. “You have no idea how much I’ve regretted saying that. From the moment the words left my lips, I knew it was a huge mistake.”

  “Then why say them?”

  “Because I was terrified, Adalyn. I’d slept with the girl I’d been pining after, and when I went to reach over for you, you flinched.”