Page 132 of Playboy

“You should have a DNA test done.”

My heart fucking stops when his garbled words register. “’Scuse me?”

“Make sure the baby is yours,” he says, clearly not picking up on my anger. “Don’t want to be like me and get your hopes up, only to find out you’re wrong. I mean, are you sure she didn’t hook up with fucking Jasper Quinn?” He stares at the screen, his bloodshot eyes unfocused.

Blood boiling, I focus on keeping my breathing steady. He’s fucking lucky we aren’t talking face to face.

“Ya said she’s always running when he calls?—”

“I’m going to say this once,” I grit out. “You’re goddamn lucky I don’t tell you to go fuck yourself, then block your number. If you weren’t hurting so bad right now, you better believe I wouldn’t hesitate. But if you ever say a damn word about the mother of my child—” I suck in a breath, tempering my anger, and blow it out again in one long gust. “She’s the love of my life. Say something negative about her again, and you and I are done.”

Camden’s silent, his eyes momentarily clear, his breathing heavy. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”

“Yeah, you were.” The words tear at my throat like glass. “Get your life together. You have a real shot to make something of yourself out there. If you can’t handle being in Vegas, then come back home. We’d all understand if this is too much.”

He angles away from the screen, his face crumpled. “Vegas was my home.”

“Yeah, but we both know Boston is now. Come back, dude. Smiles’s attitude sucks. You and me, we could be gods togetherhere.”

He blinks, his attention floating to something beyond his phone. Or maybe the ghosts are keeping him company. “I gotta go. But I’ll think about what you said.”

He hangs up before I can respond.

I toss the phone down, still vibrating with anger over his comments.

“Hey.” Hannah’s voice startles me. Heart still pumping, I look up and find her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, her belly peeking out from beneath the belt of her gray silk robe.

“Hey, c’mere.” I hold out an arm. “How much did you hear of that?”

She settles on my lap, as close as she can get, lips twisting. “Pretty much the whole thing.”

Fuck.

Stomach clenching, I stroke her damp hair. “He didn’t mean it.”

She gives me a soft smile. “He did. And he’s not wrong. You should have questioned whether the baby is yours. Can you imagine the money I could have taken you for?” She’s teasing me, I know this, but I don’t like the way she’s talking.

“Hannah.”

“You’re a big, famous hockey player, and I’m just?—”

I tug on the ends of her hair. “A big, famous author.”

She snorts. “Not quite.”

“Did you see yourself today? Did you see the line of people who showed up to see you? That all want to read your books? Don’t get me started on all the social media hype.”

Her lashes flutter in acknowledgment. She’s got nothing to say. I know she’s proud of herself, and I’m bursting with pride for her.

“Also,” I say, angling her face so she’s completely focused on me, “it wouldn’t have mattered if he wasn’t mine.”

“Daniel.” Her voice is chiding.

God dammit. She should know by now that tone only makes me hard.

“I’m serious. You could have told me you weren’t sure or that you were sure and he wasn’t mine, and I still would have said I’m in this if you’ll have me. I’ve wanted you for so goddamn long, Hannah. My feelings for you have nothing to do with the baby. He just came along and made all my dreams come true a little earlier than expected.”

Tears coat her lashes. “You say that now, but what if?—”

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