Page 40 of Press Your Luck

"Are you done?" Porter asked, a hint of impatience in his voice. He snatched the phone from my hand and shoved it back into his pocket.

"Look, Porter," I said, forcing a smile while desperately trying to keep my composure. "There must be some kind of mistake. Why don't you come inside, and we'll figure this out together? We'll call your mom, okay?"

"Whatever," he muttered, pushing past me and stepping into the house. "Thought you were rich.” Porter looked around my place, unimpressed.

"Is that what she’s after?” I’d heard stories of women trying to pawn off pregnancies or children on rich men to get money.

“Where am I sleeping?”

Good question. I had a guest room, but I wasn’t ready to take a strange kid into my home.

"Porter. I know this is confusing, but we need to talk about what's going on. We can't just pretend like this situation is normal."

"Normal?" He scoffed, turning to face me with a fierce glare in his eyes. "You think any part of this is normal? My mom sends me halfway across the country to live with some guy I've never met, and you want to talk about normal?"

Way to be a dick, Pierce.I’d been so caught up in my own shock that I hadn’t considered his feelings.

"Listen. I understand you're upset. I am too. We need to find out what’s going on."

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to call you 'Dad' or anything."

Dad? Good Christ. Could I really be a father? The kid had my dark hair and blue eyes, but lots of kids did, right?

I was reeling from this situation, but I also felt a sense of responsibility toward this boy who claimed to be my son. I had to verify Jeannie's claims, but for now, I needed to step up and be there for him—whatever that meant.

“We need to talk to your mom.”

He did the biggest eye roll I’d ever seen. "Here. Call her yourself if you don't believe me."

As I took the phone from him, I had a strange mixture of emotions—anger, confusion, and even a hint of curiosity that this boy might actually be my son. That led to feelings of terror. What the fuck did I know about kids?

"Hello?" Jeannie's voice echoed through the line.

"Jeannie, it's Pierce," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We need to talk about... about Porter." My gaze flicked to the boy standing in front of me, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.

"Fine. But I already told you everything you need to know in the video."

"Look, this is a lot to process. You can't just dump a kid on my doorstep and expect me to take him in without any questions."

"Technically, you're not a stranger," she replied sharply. "You're his father."

"But I didn't even know he existed until today."

"Neither did I," Porter muttered, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the floor.

“How is it that I’m only finding out about this now? Is it money you want?” Maybe it was wrong, but I was willing to pay.

“You weren’t an asshole when I met you before. Granted, we barely spoke, but... no, this isn’t about money. It’s about Porter needing a strong male presence in his life. That’s the father’s role, and the father is you.”

"Jeannie, listen –" I began, but she cut me off.

“I can’t talk now, Pierce. My plane is boarding. I said I’d call later, and I will.” The phone went dead.

“Jeannie.” Jesus, if I was going to get her to take him back, she couldn’t get on a plane.

"See?" Porter sneered, snatching his phone back from me. "She doesn't want me either."

“What? That’s not what she said.” In fact, it sounded like she was doing this to help him, not to get rid of him. But if the boy needed help, she should have hired a therapist because I didn’t know shit about parenting.

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