Page 167 of The Catalyst

“You mean I conceived seven weeks ago?” That gets Oliver’s attention. His icy blue gaze is instantly on me, holding mine for an eternity.

Our trip to Hempstead was seven weeks ago.

That only disqualifies one of the three as a possible father. Martin is now off the list. It’s down to either Ollie or Nigel.

“That would be the general consensus, yes. Is there…a problem?” the doctor asks as he pulls out the wand, and I sit up.

“No, not a problem. Just…how early can I have a paternity test done?”

The doctor’s eyes widen like saucers as he looks between me and Oliver. “You’re…not the father, I assume?”

“One of the possibles,” Oliver corrects before turning his attention back to me.

“Oh, well…” The doctor trails off, and I can tell he is judging me. I don’t have to explain my lifestyle choices. “You’re currently nine weeks along, so we could do an N.I.P.P., which is a non-invasive blood test. We would use your blood to extract the fetus’ DNA and test it against whoever you choose.”

That sounds quite simple. “How soon would the results be in?”

“The sample takes about two weeks for the results to be ready.”

“Good. Let’s do it,” Oliver mutters before he rolls up his sleeve, showing off all the tattoos up the corded flesh.

* * *

Oliver doesn’t holdmy hand or touch me the entire way back to the hotel. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t touched me since the ultrasound was being performed. He’s not acting weird per se, but I’m getting a vibe from him that’s not his usual.

“Are you okay?” I ask as he parks in front of my hotel room, but he doesn’t turn off the car.

He has no intention of staying.

“I’m good,” he mutters. “How about you?”

“I’m fine.”

He nods. “I need to head to work.”

I climb from the car, and the door is barely closed before his car speeds off like he can’t get away from me fast enough.

What the hell is going on with him?

CHAPTER 65

OLIVER

Ionly drive a minute down the road before I pull into a gas station. I don’t get out, and I don’t park at a pump. I lean my forehead against the steering wheel and take deep, calming breaths.

My heart jackhammers in my chest. Punishingly hard pumps slam into my ribs one after the other. I can barely see straight.

It wasn’t seeing the cell cluster on the screen that may or may not belong to me. It wasn’t the doctor being a complete and utter dickwad until he knew I was sitting in the room with Beth. No, it was none of those things that put me in this state.

It was that she said her fucking age. I’m not an imbecile, but it never even occurred to me to question how old she was. I should’ve, considering she hangs around with Ronan, Judy, and Nigel, but I never considered that she wasn’t in her twenties. The guys said she was Judy’s neighbor, and I didn’t think further on the subject.I thought the only reason Judy drove her to school was because she worked there. She never mentioned wanting to go to college so the assumption was that she had already been through it.

She’s fucking eighteen. How long has she been eighteen? Was her birthday before we first fucked? If it wasn’t…fuuuuck.

Besides the whole legality of it, I’m ten years older than her. I’m way too fucking old for her. Ten years doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you’re eighteen, it’s a fuck of a lot like robbing the cradle. She was only eight when I was eighteen. A literalfuckingchild.

This is fucking crazy. I know I’m certifiably insane for multiple reasons, but I have one place where I draw the line. I fucking protect kids, and now I’m looking at my crazy girl like she’s completely fucking off limits because she’s barely legal. It’s not like I’m forty, but this entire thing makes my head spin.

I’ve had the fantasy I’ve heard so many dipshits talk about. The barely legal hot piece of ass on her knees worshiping my cock like it's infused with magic. There’s a big difference between fucking said piece of ass and feeling the way I do about her.

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