Page 54 of Let Me Love You

What if he isn’t mine?

Do I want to spend time cultivating a relationship with a kid who doesn’t belong to me? No. Because I’ll fall for the little shit. I know I will.

But what if heismine?

If he is, it’s three to six more weeks of wasted time. I’m already drowning in guilt for missing his first year. I’m not sure how much more I can take.

“I’ll let you know,” I answer quietly.

“All right.” Eleanor nods and squeezes my arm one more time. “I really am sorry, Colt.”

I look down at where she’s touching me. It’s innocent. Like a friend. But it still feels wrong when Ash isn’t here, so I shrug out of her grasp, creating some distance between us. If she’s embarrassed or annoyed, she doesn’t show it.

“I’m sorry too,” I reply.

She smiles, hiking Jaxon’s car seat onto her forearm. “Good to see you again. And if you wanna catch up or anything, let me know.”

I squeeze the back of my neck. “Yeah.”

18

COLT

After Ashlyn’s bathroom break, Ali promised to be in touch, and we walked back to my truck.

Ashlyn’s quiet. Lost in her thoughts. Probably feeling whiplashed the same way I am. But I don’t break it. The silence. I let it wash over us. Giving us time to process everything. The what ifs. The potential outcomes.

The sun is high in the sky now, beating down on us. It’s warm. Hot. Unlike the chilly gloom clinging to Ash and me with every step. I want to know what she’s thinking. What she’s feeling. If she’s pissed at me. At the situation. How I kept this from her for so long. But I don’t ask her. I’m too scared. Too scared of the fallout. The repercussions. I thought the puck bunnies were bad, but this? A kid? A kid who looks like me? I scrub my hand over my face, my Adam’s apple lodged in my throat and my steps faltering as a silent Ash walks up to the passenger door of my truck.

The hinges squeak softly as I open the door and help her inside without a word.

When I pull out of the parking lot a minute later, Ash murmurs, “She seems nice.”

“Who? Ali or Eleanor?”

“Both,” she answers. “But I meant Eleanor.”

“Oh. Yeah.” I nod. “She is.”

“A little exhausted,” she clarifies. “But nice.”

I chuckle. “Yeah.”

“And beautiful.”

Beautiful?

With a frown, I glance at Ash from the corner of my eye. But she isn’t looking at me. She’s chewing on her thumbnail, lost in her own thoughts.

Is she jealous?

“Ash,” I warn. Because fuck me, I can’t take it. I can’t take her jealousy right now. I can’t take the silence. I can’t take anything. I can’t.

“I’m only saying—”

“I know what you’re saying,” I interrupt. “But I need you to stop.”

“Why?” she asks with a dry laugh. “Because you don’t like me saying your ex is beautiful?”