Page 199 of The Single Dads Club
Now, though? That was gone. And the timing couldn’t have been worse, from a totally selfish standpoint. I was on the precipice of a huge relationship in my own life with someone who was gun-shy and possibly pregnant with my child. Not only that, I was locked and loaded to go all in based on my own confidence in the premise of soul mates and my unshakeable belief that I’d found mine.
Only soul mates weren’t real. Or at least, the pair I’d always hung my hat on weren’t. And I couldn’t deny, this news was like an A-bomb, obliterating my world and shaking one of my core beliefs.
I took the familiar route I used to walk when I’d hung around with my friends in this neighborhood, but I barely noticed the brick homes or stately trees as I strode past them. Instead, I was focused on my life, the faces of all the girls I’d run through or disappointed over the years because I’d had such strict blinders on. I’d been searching for my one and only the entire time.
If my parents’ happy, perfect relationship wasn’t as happy or perfect as I’d thought, then why had I stayed single for so long? Why had I insisted on being so choosy about the person I’d finally settle down with?
Not for the first time, I thought about fate. That maybe, after all of this, fate had forced me to be single in the hope that it would lead me to Bren and, maybe, our baby?
But now, if my parents were right, what did any of it matter? I had only the here and now.
For the next ten minutes, I ate up the block with my stride, trying to work off some of the tension that had been building since Bren had left.
By the time I got back to my parents’ house, I was feeling less breathless and my brain had finally calmed.
My parents were healthy and, by the looks of it, happy with their decision. They would be fine and so would I. And as for Bren?
Nothing had changed for me.
I thought of her panicked face as she’d sprinted from my apartment. Of her sweet-smelling hair and her soft lips. Of the way her mouth tilted to the side when there was something else on her mind—something she wouldn’t, or maybe couldn’t, tell me. She was hiding something, and I just hoped she’d tell me before it was too late.
She was like no other woman I’d ever known and if it wasn’t love yet, I was well on my way. She could say what she wanted but her body didn’t lie. She was just as into me as I was into her. She was just scared.
I’d known that from the beginning and I’d pushed too hard. She needed time. Time I hadn’t been giving her.
The drawer had been a stupid idea, but I could make it up to her. I just had to figure out how, and how the fuck to get a hold of some extra patience.
Because I had a feeling I was going to need it. Even if soul mates were a crock of shit, she and I needed our shot.
Chapter Seventeen
Bren
“Guess who brought donuts.”
Mandy’s chipper singsong echoed through the front hall of my apartment and I grimaced, groaning to let her know where I was before shoving my pillow over my face.
Lord knew I wasn’t in shape for company—I was barely in shape to be around myself.
Ever since I’d left Mason’s last night, I hadn’t been able to think about anything other than what a complete and total ass I’d been and the sheer, utter terror that had filled my heart as soon as I’d realized what our hot, passionate moment of fun had become.
Together.
Not that Mandy would understand.
In her mind, everything was rainbows and puppy dogs and every chance at love ought to be snatched up and savored—at least, that was the only way I could figure she’d gotten married so young. But that was just it. She was married. She didn’t know, couldn’t know, what a risk it was to take a chance on someone nowadays. It was a jungle out here.
A gentle knock sounded on my wooden bedroom door and I croaked for her to come in, though I didn’t bother to drag the pillow from over my face. Distantly, I heard the rustle of her donut bag and caught the savory, sweet smell of my favorite hazelnut latte.
“If that’s what I think it is, you’re a goddess,” I muttered.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” There was a little thunk and I peeked through the small space between my comforter and pillow to see her setting a tray of drinks on my nightstand before she poked me in the stomach. “It’s ten thirty,” she said with a disapproving click of her tongue.
“So?” I grumbled. “It’s Sunday.”
“Which means you should already have gone on your run and come back by now.”
“I can’t run. I’m pregnant,” I argued.
