One Baby Daddy (Dating by Numbers #3)(77)

Although after the game today, they might have a good case.

My head was not in the game. It’s been hard to focus while on the ice, ever since Emma emailed me, but I’ve pushed through. Today was a different story though, because knowing I was hours away from seeing Adalyn, I was distracted. I couldn’t remember plays, I was missing shot after shot, and my focus wasn’t sharp like it normally is. What a fucking disaster.

The Uber driver turns onto Adalyn’s street, the quaint neighborhood barely lit by the yellow street lamps lined along the sidewalk. Five houses to go.

Four.

Three.

Two . . .

“This it?” the driver asks.

Glancing out the window at the small, white one-story home, I say, “Yup, this is it. Thanks, man.”

“Not a problem. Have a good evening.”

I step out of the car, my duffle bag in hand and survey her house. The living room light is on, blinds shut, but no sign of movement. Her car is in the driveway indicating she’s home, sending me into a fit of nerves.

Fuck. I shouldn’t be shaking over walking up to her house, but I am. I’m apprehensive about Emma’s reasoning for asking me to visit.

I guess there is only one way to find out.

With my heart pounding in my chest, my veins shaking, and my mind going a mile a minute, I walk up and knock on the front door. I plant the hand that’s not holding my duffel bag in my pocket and rock back on my heels, my breathing non-existent as my chest tightens.

The telltale sound of locks being unlocked echo through the silent night air right before the door opens. It takes my eyes a second to adjust, but when they do, I’m greeted with a very shocked Adalyn at the door. Her hair is piled on top of her head, knotted in a messy bun, her face devoid of all makeup. Eyes wide, mouth parted in shock, she steps forward, partially closing the door behind her.

“Hayden, wh-what are you doing here?”

What am I doing here? Hell if I know at this point.

“Uh . . .”

“Who is it?” comes a male voice from inside the house, sending my head snapping to see past the door. I catch a quick cringe from Adalyn before the door is opened all the way up and reveals Logan standing protectively behind Adalyn.

You have got to be fucking kidding me. Is this what Emma wanted me to see? Was she trying to make me jealous? Did Adalyn set up this whole thing with Emma to throw her new relationship in my face? Why the fuck would Emma do that to me?

“Hayden, what are you doing here?” Logan asks, wrapping his arm around Adalyn, his hand resting on her hip.

Blood boiling in my veins, my eyes narrow in on the formfitting shirt Adalyn is wearing, the one Logan is stroking with his thumb, the one that . . .

Wh . . . what?

Is the light really that bad here or am I seeing things?

Peering at Adalyn, I watch her squeeze her eyes shut tightly and turn into Logan who pulls her into his chest.

My eyes go back to Adalyn’s stomach, wondering why she is holding it so . . . protectively.

Brow creased, head tilted, a light sheen of sweat glazing my skin, I keep my eyes fixed on her torso. When I speak, my voice cracks. “Adalyn, are you okay?”

Adalyn shakes in Logan’s arms. He soothingly rubs her back and whispers into her ear, but thanks to the quiet night, I can hear everything he says.

“Just breathe or you’re going to make yourself sick again. Take deep breaths, Addie.”

Sick? Again?

“Excuse me.” Adalyn takes off running into her house, leaving me alone with Captain Shithead.

We stand there, silently staring at each other, Logan with his hands on his hips, me clenching my fist at my side ready to plow it through his cocky-as-fuck grin.

“You should probably leave. You being here isn’t good for her.”

“You can fuck off.” I push toward the door, but Logan blocks me.

Grunting while he speaks, he says, “You can’t just show up when it’s convenient. This is going to destroy her.”

“I’m going to destroy your pathetic ass if you don’t let me through this fucking door. As a reminder, I take men down for a goddamn job, so I suggest you don’t fuck with me.” Pushing him to the side, I make my way into Adalyn’s house and go to her bathroom. The door is partially cracked, the light on, the sound of her throwing up on the other side.

Without a second thought, I drop my bag, push through the door, and fall to my knees next to her. Head in the toilet, hands on the seat, she heaves while I rub her back, my heart aching.

Letting out a long breath, her body slumps as she rests her forehead on the toilet seat. “What are you doing here, Hayden?”

I don’t answer her, instead I ask, “How long have you been sick like this?”

Taking her in, I notice how pale her skin is and how much thinner she is besides what looks like a baby bump. And now that I think about it, her eyes looked sunken when I opened the door, tired and weary.

“Since I’ve been four weeks pregnant.”

My teeth grind together, the tension in my body starting to grow stronger with each passing breath. “How far along are you now?”

“Twelve weeks.”

I hold her gaze for a moment before looking away without saying a word. I stand from the position on the bathroom floor and walk out to the living room where Logan is sitting on the couch. When he sees me round the corner, he stands and puffs his chest out. What a fucking douche.