Page 63 of The Enemy Face Off

"Ah."

"If it makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to talk about it."

"No. It's fine. The thing is, I wish I knew more about her, because the truth is, I don't. Her name was Isla, and I met her on a post-victory night out six years ago. She was really pretty and seemed different from the normal ditzy girls who hung around hockey players. She was in college. Read sci-fi. Loved manga. Spoke three languages."

"She sounds cool."

"She was. In a nerdy way, which made her even cooler to me because I'm weird like that."

I smile as I take in his self-deprecating joke. I've never met a guy who's so comfortable making fun of himself.

He continues. "We had an immediate attraction, which only increased when she told me she wasn't interested in hockey players."

"Wait. Youlikedthat?" He nods. "You really are a weirdo."

He grins. "I really am."

The trail breaks off in two separate directions. The left loop is two miles, the right is five. I flick my fingers between them. "Are you up for a longer walk?"

"Sure. You?"

"Let's do it. So what happened with you and Isla?" I ask as we set off on the right trail.

"Well, after we slept together, I found out that she'd also been with one of my teammates and at least two other players I knew. I'm not judging her for that, but I was hurt by her dishonesty. Shewasinto hockey players. Big time. She also told me she was interested in more than just a one-night stand, only for me to discover that that was another lie."

"You never heard from her again?"

"Nope. After our night together she ghosted me completely. Didn't answer my texts or phone calls. I spoke to my teammate, and we put two and two together pretty quickly. She was yet another puck bunny."

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Thanks. I'll be honest, it did affect me for a while. I'm not a quick-to-trust person at the best of times, so after that experience, I closed up even more."

"That makes sense."

"For a long time, I regretted sleeping with her. But then…"

A smile stretches across his lips, and Iknowwho he's thinking about. "How did you learn you were a father?"

"My manager got an email from Isla's mother saying that Isla had been killed in a car crash and that she had two children—a five-year-old girl named Josie, and a two-year-old boy named Jonah—and that there was a chance I was the father of Josie."

"Holy moly. What did you do?"

"We looked into it. Part of me suspected it might have been someone's idea of a sick joke, but I didn't want to dismiss it outright, either. We hired an investigator, and the story checked out. I took a DNA test, and yeah, it turns out I'm Josie's father."

"What about Jonah?"

"That was the snag that made the whole custody slash adoption process take so long. I'm obviously not his father since I never saw Isla after our night together. Despite a comprehensive search, his biological father hasn't been tracked down. I obviously wanted custody of Josie, but at the same time, I didn't want her to lose her brother. They'd already experienced too much loss, so I…I adopted Jonah, and heismy son."

He declares it proudly and with such conviction, leaving no room for doubt that he is Jonah's father.

I have to blink faster to keep the tears welling in my eyes at bay. I'm speechless. What a beautiful, selfless, kind thing to do.

"What about you?" Milo asks, ducking out in front to remove a fallen branch from the path. "You want kids?"

As I pass him closely, I catch the subtle scent of the motel body wash from him. "Uh, sure. I guess."

"You hesitated."

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