Page 8 of Follow the Play

“Natasha was the last date I was on.”

“You’re still a man, Baker. You have needs.”

“He needs me. He has one parent who doesn’t give a fuck. He won’t have two.”

“I understand that. I do. But dating doesn’t make you a bad father.”

“I don’t have time to date.”

“Do you or do you not have a full-time nanny? Do you or do you not have four best friends, three incredible ladies, and two bonus ladies that would watch him at the drop of a hat?”

“He’s mine.”

“And Coral is mine, but I still let Coach come sit with her for a few hours while I take my wife to dinner.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Go ahead, explain it to me. I’ve got time.” The cocky bastard crosses his arms over his chest and smirks.

“It just is.”

“It’s an excuse. I get it, Baker. You want to make up for her misgivings, but at what cost? That little man is loved. He’s happy and healthy. You did that, man. You give him everything he needs, but you also need to take care of yourself.”

“How did this conversation turn to me and dating?” I grumble.

“We need to get you back out there, my man. You need the love of a good woman.”

“Cam is all I need.”

“He’s not,” Reid argues. “It’s going to take the right woman to come along to prove that to you.”

“Whatever,” I grumble. I won’t admit that I miss the companionship of a woman, but my life is different now. I didn’t hook up frequently before, but now, it’s not just me. My son is involved, and I think about him in my every action. Bringing a woman into his life, only to leave like his mother has, I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I’m just fine. My hand has been taking care of my needs. Sure, it’s not the same, but it’s what I’ve got, and if I’ve learned anything since that night when Natasha showed up at my door, it's that you have to play the cards you are dealt, and this is my hand.

My son comes first.

He always will.

“Daddy!” Camden’s little legs come racing toward me. He doesn’t slow until he’s smacking into my legs with a giggle. I scoop him up and tickle his belly. “Swide.” He points in the wrong direction of the slides, but I know what he means.

“I saw you sliding. Did you have fun?”

“Bell swide. No baby.” He furrows his brow.

“She’s still too little,” Reid explains.

“Weed swide?”

“You know it, my little dude. I’ll race ya.”

“Wace!” Camden wiggles in my arms, so I place him on his feet. He takes off running, while Bellamy, Baker, and I laugh.

“Those little legs are fast,” Reid says as he stands. He kisses his wife, then bends to do the same to his baby girl, before calling after my son, telling him how fast he is and that he beat Uncle Reid with his turbo feet, which he must have gotten from his daddy.

I have the best fucking friends—no, the best fucking family a guy could ask for.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Bellamy.

“Perfect.” She smiles at me.