Page 85 of Accidental Baby Daddy

“I am?” he gasped, bouncing in his seat.

“You are.”

“Does that mean I get a new mommy, too?” he asked hopefully, and my heart clenched in my chest.

“I don’t know about that, buddy,” I replied gently. “But you are going to have a little playmate in a few months.”

“I hope it’s a boy,” he said excitedly. “We’re gonna be best friends.”

“You can still be best friends, even if it’s a girl,” I assured him.

He grinned up at me. “I’m so excited!”

“I know you are,” I chuckled. For the next half an hour, he babbled about all the fun things he was going to do with his sibling. It made my heart soar to know how thrilled he was about it.

He was still talking about becoming a big brother when I put him to bed, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I was glad I told him; it raised my mood a lot.

I continued to text Lexie, asking her to speak to me, but she kept ignoring me. If I wasn’t a single father, I might have thrown myself into a bottle the way I did after we broke up the first time, but I had responsibilities now.

I knew what I needed to do next, but it was a hard pill to swallow.

I needed to talk to Tristan. To apologize to him. I’d hurt Lexie and myself by my actions back then, but I’d also hurt my best friend, a man who’d always been there for me. He didn’t deserve what happened.

The next morning, after I dropped Trent off at school, I looked in my files and found Tristan’s number. I took in a deep breath and dialed.

“Hello?” he answered after a few rings. I was relieved. I knew my number had probably shown up as unknown.

“Trent, it’s Oliver.” There was nothing but silence, and for a moment, I thought he’d hung up.

“You’ve got some nerve—” he started, but I cut him off.

“Tristan, please. Just hear me out. Can we get a drink or something?”

He went quiet again. “Are you serious right now? You tried to kick my ass, more than once.”

“I know,” I sighed. “But I really need to talk to you. I want to apologize. Please.”

“The only reason I’m entertaining this is because you were my best friend for years,” he warned.

“Fair enough. Meet me at the new Irish pub downtown?”

“O’Malley’s?”

“That’s the one.”

“See you there,” he grunted, and hung up the phone.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. At least I would get a chance to apologize.

When I arrived at O’Malley’s, Tristan was already there, sitting in a back booth. I slid into the seat across from him and let out a long breath.

“I should clock you one, you know.”

I winced. “Do it, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“It won’t,” he said flatly.

“Tristan, I’m sorry,” I said mournfully. “I know now that you never laid a hand on Lex.”

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