I pace my condo as the light fades in the sky and wonder why she hasn't called yet. Finally my cell phone chimes from the counter, and I race to the kitchen.

There's a text from Kylie.

We're home, and I just got Max tucked into bed. Sorry if I caused you any worry today.

If she thinks a single text message is going to be enough after all the heart ache and tension I've felt since discovering she was gone, she's insane.

I press the call button and wait while it rings.

"Hi," she answers, her voice sleepy.

There are so many questions spinning in my head, I don't even know where to start. "Why did you leave?" I ask.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn’t mean to just take off without explanation. I want to thank you for your hospitality, but I figured you could use your space back."

The air feels like it's been knocked from my lungs. My hospitality? "We fucked bareback last night. Whether or not you believe it, that meant something to me. You mean something to me. What the hell is going on, Kylie?"

She sighs softly. "Elan called today. He said that he knew he made a mistake walking out on us, and he wanted a chance to meet Max."

"And you gave in, just like that?"

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"He could have taken me to court, Pace. Served me with papers for a custody arrangement. I couldn’t have that. So, yes, I was doing what I thought was best. For me and for my son."

Realizing I've wandered into my bedroom, I sink down onto the bed, the phone pressed against my ear, and my heart heavy. "I see." I know I should apologize for my outburst at the park today. I got a little territorial seeing Kylie and Max with another man in the picture. Although, I suppose I don’t know if he's truly back, or if it was a one-time thing, him wanting to meet Max. "So, is Elan back?" I ask, even though her answer has the potential to destroy me.

"I don't know for sure. He says he wants a chance with me. A chance to be a real family, but I told him he's a long ways off from me trusting him again."

I swallow a lump in my throat. "And what about you? What do you want?"

She hesitates for a moment and a wave of panic rises inside of me. "I'm trying to put my son first, and I guess deep down, I believe it would be best for Max if Elan and I could work things out."

She's told me all I need to know. Despite her insistence the past several weeks that I'd only end up hurting her, the opposite has happened. She has just gutted me, and I don't think she even knows it.

"You didn’t have to leave," I say, trying to regain my composure. "Unless your arm magically healed in the last few hours, I'm guessing you still need the help."

"With me trying to be open to exploring things with Elan, I didn’t feel right staying with you. Plus, if I'm honest, I don't think I could trust myself alone with you after what happened last night."

"And what happened last night?" I want to hear it in her own words, I want to know if she feels as strongly about what happened as I do.

"As I told you last night, it had been too long. And the sex was great, if that's what you're wondering."

Of course it felt great, but it was so much more than the physical act. It was her giving herself to me fully, me claiming her as my own. But apparently we are not on the same page. She's not mine. And Max isn't either.

"It was good, wasn't it?" I say, trying to regain some of the cocky bad boy who never lets his heart get engaged.

Kylie's quiet, and I wonder what she's thinking. I want to ask how Max is, how it went when he met Elan for the first time, but I stay quiet too.

Finally, after several seconds of silence, I realize there is nothing more to say. "Goodnight, Moon," I whisper.

"Goodnight," she whispers back.

I lay back against the pillows. The smell of warm vanilla and little boy greets me. My chest tightens and I squeeze my eyes closed, wondering what I'm supposed to do now.

***

Despite the darkness that's settled all around me, despite the quiet, stillness of my home, I am unable to sleep. I lay unmoving for several hours, my head still spinning with everything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours. I can't believe that just last night, I was inside Kylie, watching her come apart, and today she's trying to let me down easy and telling me she's going to make a go at things with her baby's father.

My stomach growls, reminding me that I never had dinner. I head to the kitchen, remembering there are leftovers of the pasta Kylie made last night.

While I wait for the microwave to heat my food, I pick up my phone and call Collins.

I don't bother with pleasantries. I don't bother asking about Tatianna – he seemed so reluctant to discuss their relationship at happy hour, I just launch straight into the hell my last few hours have been.

"Calm down, get yourself under control, man," Collins interrupts my rant.

I take a deep breath.

"What should I do?"

"Don't be a dumbfuck."

"That's your advice, asshole?" I'm about to hang up on him when the sound of his laughter fills the space between us.

"You're a Drake. Figure out it. Go get your girl back."

He's right. Colton didn't let the distance Sophie put between them keep them apart. She flew to Italy to escape him, and shit, he was married at the time. They had more of an uphill battle to wage than Kylie and I do, right? I won't just sit back and let this asshole squeeze his way back into the picture.

I shovel several forkfuls of pasta into my mouth, knowing I'm going to need the fuel, and grab my keys and wallet, then take off out the door.

Kylie

As I hang up the phone, a wave of nausea hits me, and I'm terrified I'm doing the wrong thing. There is no guidebook on how to be a single mother, or what to do when your baby-daddy calls you unexpectedly. I believed the right thing to do was probably to give him a chance.  A chance for Max to have a real family – instead of just me, trying to do it all and barely keeping my head above water. And speaking of doing it all, I've done too much today. My house is clean, and my laundry is caught up, but my arm is sore and achy.

I curl up in bed, laying on my side as visions of last night with Pace flood my brain. He'd been so strong, so commanding with his filthy words and massively large cock, yet tender and sweet at the same time with his concern over my casted arm. Just thinking of him produces a rush of conflicting emotions. I guess it's true what they say about wanting what you can't have. Even though he'd proven himself reliable, part of me still believes that he's too young and too immature to really settle down into the stable type of relationship I need right now.




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