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“Okay...” my voice trails off as I catch my breath, my heart still beating wildly inside my chest. “The paternity test.”

“We have playoffs starting in two days.” His nostrils flare, the torment marring his expression again. “If I get the test and do whatever I need to do, are you able to send it in?”

“Of course,” I tell him, nodding in understanding. Carson is clearly at an internal war with himself right now, torn between the importance of playoffs and dealing with this curveball that has been thrown at him.

Carson releases me and takes a step back. I immediately feel his absence. He pulls out his phone, his attention directing to the screen as he types something and begins to read. “It looks like they have ones at the pharmacy that we can do and drop off at the lab.” His eyes flash to mine. “They’re just cheek swabs and it says the results take three to five days.”

“Okay,” I say slowly, nodding as the weight of the climate between us settles on my chest. He’s visibly upset, although I can’t tell if it’s with me specifically. I wouldn’t blame him for any negative feelings towards me.

“If you’re not busy, I’m going to run to get one to do it now.” He shifts his weight on his feet. “I’ll drop off my swab and everything to do Matteo's.”

“That works. I can do his swab tonight and I’ll find out where to drop it off in the morning.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Can you let me know when you drop it off?” His nostrils widen and his expression isunreadable. “Just so I can keep track of when I should get the results. I will fill out the paperwork and put my phone number on it, that way they will call me with the results.”

“Whatever you need, Carson,” I say, my voice soft as I give him a gentle smile. I know how hard this is for me right now—I can’t even begin to imagine the conflicted feelings he’s struggling with.

There is a piece of me that is hurt that he doesn’t believe me, but I understand. I get it. He doesn’t know me well enough to take my word, which is exactly why I’ll be nothing but compliant with it all.

He needs proof that Matteo is his son.

And I’ll make sure he gets that proof.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CARSON

Idon’t have the balls to face Andi again when I drop off the paternity test for her. I left her after our conversation, drove to the pharmacy, swabbed my cheek in the front seat of my car, and left the test on her front porch for her to do her part. This entire situation has me completely fucked up and this is the worst timing ever.

Playoffs start in two days. Two fucking days...and I’m practically useless.

I need to find a way to shut my brain off so I can perform. There’s a certain expectation placed upon me and one that I’ve also placed upon myself. Pressure doesn’t normally cripple me, but right now, I can feel my knees beginning to buckle under the weight of everything.

I can’t let it happen now. I need to push forward and fucking get through this. What is done is done. Andi will swab Matteo’s cheek and drop off the test in the morning. Then I need to forget about the fact that I have to wait and get my mind back in the game. We’ll have the results sometime next week and then I’ll deal with whatever shit storm comes with that.

After leaving her house, I get five minutes down the back roads before I pull off onto the side of the road. There’s a gravelpull off area and I whip my car onto it, pressing on the brake as I slow the car to a stop. A pained breath escapes me as I put the car in park and shut it off.

My forehead falls against the steering wheel and my eyelids fall shut as I swallow hard over the lump lodged in my throat. I need a moment to let myself fall apart before I can continue on. Just a moment to spiral, to give some attention to the myriad of feelings running rampant inside me.

The silence settles around me and I sit with my eyes closed, forehead pressed against the top of the steering wheel, fingers threaded together as I hold my palms against the back of my head.

How the hell did this happen?

That night with Andi is one I’ll never regret. If anything, I always regretted walking away and not getting her number. There was something about her that has stuck with me after all these years. She was like a mirage. Something shimmering in the distance that would always be a mystery to me.

It’s like the light caught her that night and I’ve never been able to eradicate the memory of her. She’s always been there, lingering in the back of my mind. A constant reminder of someone I let walk away. Someone I felt a connection with, a magnetic pull.

She was captivating and had my attention and I didn’t bother to pursue her. Even after all these years, after all the other women I’ve been with, none of them ever caught my interest quite like she did.

And here she is...another opportunity to finally get to know her, except that isn’t really the opportunity that is presenting itself. Instead, it’s completely different and nothing like I envisioned.

She might be the mother of my fucking child. A child I never knew about until earlier today.

I can’t blame her for the choices she’s made, even if it tears me apart inside. I understand why she did the things she did. I understand why she didn’t try to reach out to me again after failed attempts in the past. I can’t imagine how these past six years have been for her, thinking there was never a chance I would have wanted to be involved.

How things could have been different if only I knew.

Then again, I don’t know a single thing about her life. She doesn’t have a ring on her finger, but I never bothered to ask her about herself. I don’t know where she works, where she lives. I don’t know if she’s single or if there’s another man in her life.