Page 73 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

“Yeah. I don’t think the pizza is sitting well.” I tap my chest, but the burning there isn’t indigestion. It’s the sinking reality that Paxton is more likelymy son.

I abandon my bottle and get a glass of water. Part of me wants to run to Paige right this second and demand the truth. The other part doesn’t want to raise any suspicions in Patrick before I talk to her.

So I wait out the rest of the game, and although I’d normally stay to watch the saved one, I do manage to excuse myself without giving off the weird vibes. Liam is on standby, but he gets to Patrick’s in a matter of minutes.

“Take me to Paige’s.”

Liam nods. “Yes, sir.”

And he knows how to navigate the midafternoon Sunday traffic, getting me to her apartment in fifteen minutes. My questions jumble in my head, clouded by too many emotions and the abundance of loss taking over the rest.

I’m trying to understand. Trying not to overreact. Trying to not be angry at missing all of that time. And not just with her.

Paige is young. Youth is the time for mistakes.

But I’m old enough to know better. I should have checked on her after we slept together that first time.

I’m a complete wreck as I climb the stairs to her door, lingering there before I knock. Collecting myself like I would before an important meeting.

When she answers the door, she looks so innocent. Pink-cheeked, soft mouth, and round blue eyes. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she’s in burgundy sweats.

Paige transforms before my eyes as she looks at me, her hand reaching out to grab me by the arm and pull me inside. “What is it?”

I close the door behind me, refusing to slam it, especially when I spot Paxton on the couch, absorbed in one of his shows and a handful of oversized cars.

When I turn back around, Paige is reaching out to touch me again, but she falters, crossing her arms and biting her lip.

I look back at Paxton for a long minute. His hair is light brown like my own, his cheeks and chin the same as mine were when I was his age. In fact, he looks likemewhen I was three.

How could I be so blind for so long?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her eyes close and her shoulders slump. Paige looks like the twenty-two-year-old she is. The young mother who’s been doing this on her own—mostly. Her mouth trembles before she presses her lips flat.

I want nothing more than to soothe her, smooth away the worry and fear weighing her down, but I wait. I need these answers.

“How was I supposed to tell you?” Tears make her eyes glassy, but she doesn’t let them fall. “You’d made it clear that you didn’t want anything like that from me. And I wasn’t going to ruin your life.”

“Ruin my life? Ruinmylife? With everything I have at my disposal, you thought you’d ruin my life.” The gall of this woman. “What about your life? His?”

“I made it work. He’s not a burden to me.”

He wouldn’t have been a burden to me, either. But I remember what I told her. That we couldn’t be a thing. Fucking stupid.

“And you’re sure? I don’t need to submit to a paternity test?” I’ll believe her if she says she’s sure, but if she wants the test, I’ll do it.

“I’m sure.” Paige shuffles a little. “You’re the only person I’ve ever slept with…until a few weeks ago.”

Fuck, that punched right through my chest, letting my heart dangle by a thread. She’d been a virgin? That’s too much to unwrap.

“Let me spend time with him.”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Paige. If you’re saying he’s mine, Ineedto spend time with him. I’ve missed so much already.”

Those tears shimmer in her eyes again. “I know.”

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