3. June
THREE
June
Having my name roll off this man’s tongue is like its own religious experience, which is why I’m walking back to my car as swiftly as I can. June Morgan . I can just imagine him whispering my name in the dark, his mouth working its way between my thighs—dammit. My desperate libido is what got me into this whole mess in the first place.
Not that I regret a single thing that came from our night together—after all, I did get Oliver, but I don’t need to fall back under his spell. Not when I’m trying to get my life together.
Which is why as soon as I get Oliver buckled in and entertained with one of his favorite shows on my iPad, I put in an earbud and call my sister. She’ll be the voice of reason. She’ll help me get my head on straight. She has to.
“Well, if it isn’t Mom’s minion,” she answers.
I may not be able to see her smile, but I can hear it in her voice.
“Dad and I were talking about you earlier today. All good, of course. ”
“Hello to you too.” I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes and pull out of the parking lot, leaving the football stadium behind me. Still, I can’t help glancing at it in the rearview mirror before putting my eyes back on the road. “Still trying to poach me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Poppy laughs, a few pans knocking together, and I imagine she’s about ready to start dinner. “He says he won’t stop sending you job offers until he’s brought you over from the dark side. His words, not mine. I wouldn’t dare. Mom scares the shit out of me sometimes. You might be able to get a raise along with an extra day off to work at the studio.”
“Poppy.”
“What? You don’t have me on speaker, do you? Sorry, Oli, swearing is bad.”
“No, no.” I lower my voice, my gaze flicking back to Oliver, still immersed in his show. “Poppy, I met him.”
“Dad?” She turns the faucet on and off, her slippers shuffling around the kitchen. “Did you skip out of work and go to the golf course?”
“Not Dad. Him .”
She’s quiet for a second, but the silverware rustling around isn’t. “Him? Am I supposed to know who that is? I know I’m quick, June, but you have to give me a little more than that.”
“It was him,” I whisper, turning the corner and letting out a murmured curse as a dick in a Cadillac cuts me off. “The man from the bar.”
“Still not ringing any bells.”
“For Christ’s sake, Poppy. The man from my wedding night.”
“What’s Paul doing in Nashville? Wait. Not Paul.” She gasps and something clatters on her counter. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? How did you find him? Did you tell him about Oliver? How did he take the news? Is he still good-looking? You have to tell me everything.”
“Poppy.”
“Oh, was he mad? I bet he was mad. Does Oliver know? What’s going to happen now?”
“Poppy.”
“Are you going to start giving me some details or are you going to keep me guessing?”
So maybe calling her to talk me down was a mistake, but I’m already halfway home, and I don’t have the time to find someone else and hope they’re more reasonable. “He’s coming to my house and I’m freaking out. I was dropping off some divorce papers for Mom, and there he was at the football stadium. And I don’t mean he was a fan hanging out at ... whatever that was. He’s a football player, Poppy. Like a real-life professional football player.”
“Well, that’s hot. Who is he? I’ll look him up.”
And here’s the proof that being around this man turns my brain to Jell-O. He asked mine, but I didn’t ask his. Nope. I just turned and walked away, not questioning anything because my lonely vagina liked how he said my name.
I still have no clue who the heck he is, putting me in the exact same place I was when I found out I was pregnant and had no idea how to even find this man, let alone tell him he was going to be a dad. Here we are almost four years later.
But what if he doesn’t show up? What if he already has a family? A pretty little blond trophy wife, two well-mannered kids, and a golden retriever.
I’m ruining his perfect life. A perfect life that doesn’t include you in it. Jealousy claws at my throat and it burns .
Why would it? He doesn’t owe me a thing.
Damn my mother and the important divorce papers she couldn’t deliver herself. I’m going to destroy a family because she treats me like her personal secretary.
“June? You there?” Poppy hesitantly asks, interrupting my downward spiral.
My justified spiral because— oh, my God . How could I not ask him his name? What is wrong with me? “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“Really, June? Again?” She tsks and I can only imagine the look she’s giving me right now. She might be afraid of our mom, but she has her disappointed looks down pat. “You ran into the man you’ve spent almost four years looking for and didn’t even ask his name. Does his dick have some kind of magic in it or something? I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Maybe when he comes over, you can ask him who the fuck he is before you jump his bones again.”
“I panicked, okay? I admit, it’s not my finest moment.” With a sigh, I make another turn, stopping at a red light. “And there will be no bone jumping. None.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not. We had one night together four years ago. That’s it. He could be happily married now, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no way I have time to date anyone. I’ve got Mom breathing down my neck about taking the LSAT, I’ve got to start shaking my ass on social media to fill up my yoga classes, and let’s not forget Oliver. Things in my life are complicated enough.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I have full faith you will fill the classes in no time. And you could always tell Mom where to stick the LSAT. ”
This time I do roll my eyes. “Mom would take that real well.”
She laughs. Hard. Hard enough I’m thinking calling her was a mistake. Especially as I pull into the apartment parking lot, no closer to figuring out this situation I’ve found myself in. This football player could be here any minute now, and I’m not ready.
What if he doesn’t like Oliver? What if Oliver doesn’t like him?
What if I forget to ask him his freaking name again?
“When is this unnamed football player supposed to be coming over?” Poppy asks as I turn off the car and grab my purse.
“Any minute now.” I pause, clutching my bag to my chest. I’m afraid if I ask her my questions, it’ll put them out in the universe and make them real. But if I don’t, if I keep my concerns to myself, what if that gives them life? “Poppy? What if he doesn’t show? What if he doesn’t want to be a dad?”
“You want my honest opinion?”
“Always.”
“If he doesn’t want to co-parent that beautiful boy of yours, then he can go fuck himself. He’s the one missing out, not you. You don’t need him or his money or his magic dick. You’re a complete badass. I mean it, June.”
Yeah, I hear what she’s saying, but as I help Oliver out of his car seat, the breath stutters in my chest. It’s not about me, it’s about him—this sweet boy who deserves everything good, like two parents who love him with their entire heart.
I can’t imagine someone not wanting to be in his life. I can only hope this football player is willing to step up, because while I can do this on my own, I don’t want Oliver to grow up without a dad. Not when he lives in the same city, when he’s so close.
“Thanks, sis. Still not entirely convinced.” I may not know his name, but I know he’s Oliver’s dad, and if he doesn’t show, it’ll break my heart.