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The completely wild side of me wants to just say fuck it and ask Ledger.

It would certainly make it a little less stressful not having to go through a selection process.

But the rational side of me says I should do the stupid questionnaires and find me some sort of astrophysicist with a heart of gold and healthy body and let the whole thing be completely anonymous.

“But what if the anonymous donor I choose has a receding hair line and I don’t know it?” I wonder aloud. “What if he has chronic bad breath?”

Blakely nods. “What if he has gas issues and farts when he walks? Or worse.” She holds up her hands. “What if he has plumbers’ crack? And I’m not talking about tight hard body plumbers’ crack. You know what I mean.”

I cringe. “God that would be terrible.”

She shrugs. “Or what if the donor is some stuck-up rich guy who makes numerous donations a year and has unknowingly fathered over two hundred kids and you end up having a bunch of look-a-likes running around the country not knowing they’re all related to each other?”

I stare at her. “You’re not giving me arguments for both sides here, Blake.”

She smirks. “Why would I do that? Yeah, there are things to consider no matter how you plan but come on. Ledger’s fucking hot and you’re gorgeous.

You two would make cute babies. So, if he’s purging his inventory, I’d take as much of it as he’s willing to give.

Fuck it. Or better yet, fuck him .” She shrugs one last time and winks at me before gesturing to my stomach.

“It’s time to grow you a baby one way or another.

Why not get a good pounding by a hot guy while you can? ”

“Oh, my gosh! Blakely!” I fall into a fit of giggles. “Can you even imagine?”

Can I imagine?

Me and Ledger Dayne?

Why on earth would he give me the time of day?

I’m sure I’m anything but his type.

But just for shits and giggles I could certainly sit here and daydream about what a romp in the sheets with Ledger might feel like.

No doubt it would be the best sex of my life.

Blakely points at me with a smirk playing on her face. “You’re thinking about it! I see you over there thinking about it!”

I bite my bottom lip to hide my guilty grin. “So, how would I even go about asking Ledger? I mean, if I decide to go that route.”

Blakely’s eyes narrow as she ponders my question and then she smiles. “How about you take him out to dinner and then ask the chef to write out the words in a balsamic glaze over his mashed potatoes.”

I snort. “Oh, my God. I could never.”

She shrugs. “Maybe a cute poem? A limerick? A haiku? I don’t know. You could be all serious about it or you could look at life for the wonderful bubble of chaos that it is and find the humor in the thought that his orgasm is just the semen demon you’re looking for.”

I burst out laughing. “Semen demon? Really?”

“Sorry babe.” She giggles and lifts her shoulder. “This isn’t exactly my forte. But if it’s what you want, just ask him. He’s not going to be a dick about anything. He’s a nice guy at his core. You’ve said so yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

Ledger Dayne.

He’s all I’ve thought about since I left lunch with Blakely this afternoon.

I thought about him at work when I was scheduling charity visits for some of the team members.

And again when I saw him with Harrison Meers at Pucks & Blades.

He was on my mind on my drive home today and now that I’m comfortably wrapped up in my bed for the night he’s on my mind again.

Not in a sexual way, oddly enough.

Hmm, though now I think about it…there’s no way he doesn’t fuck like a stallion.

But that’s not what I should be thinking about right now.

Tapping his name into my phone, I search the internet and scroll through hundreds of pictures of him, studying each one. For what, I have no idea.

I don’t know what I’m looking for.

Daddy traits maybe?

But why would he need daddy traits when he wouldn’t really be the dad?

It’s not like I’m asking Ledger to parent this child with me.

I’m not asking for his money.

I just need a few of his best swimmers.

It’s not like he doesn’t deposit millions of them every single day, anyway.

Some days probably more than once.

What’s so wrong about asking him to put some in a to-go container for me?

Scroll.

Scroll.

Scroll.

Maybe if I just continue to look, to scroll, to study, the right decision will smack me in the head.

Ledger’s fucking hot and you’re gorgeous. You two would make cute babies.

Maybe Blakely is right. Her c’est-la-vie attitude about this whole thing sort of boosts my confidence. She makes me feel like having a child on my own isn’t as a big a deal as I fear the world around me will think it is.

And maybe it’s not that big of a deal for me to see what Ledger thinks about being my sperm donor.

Maybe he’d be more than willing to do it.

Either that or I’ll become the laughingstock of the locker room for even asking.

Blakely is right about one thing though.

I won’t know if I don’t ask.

“Just fucking do it, Marlee,” I murmur to myself. Tapping out of my internet deep dive, I open my text app and try to think of something witty to say that Ledger might appreciate.

A limerick?

A haiku?

Okay let me think.

I have a question.

I’d like to make a baby.

Can I have your sperm?

Nah. That’s not cute or funny.

It just sounds creepy.

Hmm…

There once was a dick filled with semen…

No.

A few more rhyming words float through my head so I take a deep breath and send the text to Ledger before I can stop myself.

Me

Hey Ledger, I've got quite a plea. Like a slapshot, it’s quick and carefree. I don’t need a loan, just some sperm of your own. Would you donate your orgasm to me?