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Chapter two

Luca

“ W ill your partner be willing to care for the child as well? We need to ensure a stable living environment for her.” The moment the words leave Ted’s mouth, Veronica comes traipsing by.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I won’t be involved. Ever. We’re officially over,” she says, her voice dripping in venom as if this is somehow my fault. Veronica storms out of the house, her arms full of the clothing she had tossed around my room.

Well, I guess that answers that question. As they say, she wasn’t here for a long time, just a good time.

***

My head is pounding as I kick off my shoes at the door, pushing it closed behind me before stumbling through the house to collapse onto the couch.

A baby.

I have a fucking baby. Or I might? God, this is fucked.

Groaning, I reach under my ass for my cell and dial the one person I know will answer.

On the second ring, Dante’s low, grumbly voice comes across the line. His tone is clipped, and all he says is, “Luca,” waiting for me to speak.

“Hey, you remember that model I dated last year?” I ask hesitantly. He’s really not going to like what I have to say this time.

“Yeah, the tall blonde. What about her? You guys back together or something?” he asks, but I hear him whispering, probably speaking to his wife, Arielle.

“Not exactly. A social worker from the state showed up, informing me that she was at the hospital today with our child. ” I let my words hang in the air, waiting for his response. I called him because he’s a child psychologist, and I figure he’ll be the biggest help as far as what resources are best to deal with the situation.

Situation? Jesus Christ, I really sound like a jackass. A child isn’t a situation, and this isn’t her fault, but fuck , I have no idea how the hell to navigate any part of this, and that is a fact.

He hums across the line before answering. “I’m sorry, you’ll need to repeat that last bit for me. I think the line may have broken up.”

I release a long, frustrated sigh. Now really isn’t the time for him to be making fun of me or developing a newfound sense of humor. “She dropped the baby off at the hospital with paperwork, stating she doesn’t want her, and now I’m being asked to appear in court tomorrow to accept responsibility for her if it turns out she’s mine.”

“You have a child.” He says it as a statement, not a question.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve said that multiple times now. Could we move the fuck on?” I practically beg for this one small mercy as my temples continue to pulse.

He remains silent, waiting for me to tell him why I called. He’s one of the kindest people I know, but he’s also very “no-nonsense.” And unfortunately for him, I’ve led a lot of nonsense to our family’s doors over the years.

I know he won’t ask me what everyone else would be thinking. It’s another reason I called him. So I answer the unspoken question lacing his words. “The social worker seemed pretty certain she was mine for some reason, and I just got back from getting lab work. They put it in as a rush and said they should call with the results either tonight or early tomorrow morning.” I hear a sharp intake of breath from his side of the line before he finally answers.

“Okay. And what’s the plan if she is yours?” he asks me, slipping into his professional tone.

“I’ll do what needs to be done. I’ll talk to Coach and Ale about taking a leave once the season starts back up again, assuming she needs more time to adjust. I’ll find a nanny for when I go back to work, and I guess we’ll take it one day at a time.” I’m shaking my head in disbelief at the entire situation, but I somehow manage to keep my tone steady, and internally, I’m freaking the fuck out .

“Fucking hell, Luca. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you about her.” He’s raising his voice and cussing, two things he almost never does. While he’s a hulk of a man, covered neck to ankle in dark tattoos, he’s generally a calm, peaceful presence to most people, which makes him great at his job.

“Honestly? I thought we ended things amicably. Besides, she’s the one who decided to split up. Not that I was particularly devastated about it, but it wasn’t my suggestion.”

He grunts, acknowledging his understanding. “Well, whatever her reasoning, we’ll have to figure it out later. I’ll get some things together for you and drop by with Arielle in an hour, less if I can make it happen.” A long silence echoes across the line, anxiety threatening to take hold of me. “You’re going to get through this, brother,” he tells me with such solid certainty before he hangs up that I actually find myself believing it for a split second and then it vanishes.