He holds up another finger. “Two, the only reason she still has her claws in you is because you care. Because she did you dirty on the way out. This is your chance to level the field. To prove to yourself she doesn’t have any more power over you. You can get her out of your system once and for all.”
Huh. Never thought about it like that.
After holding up a third finger, he waves it at me like he’s a priest or something. “You have my blessing. Go have a nice night fucking the ex. Just remember the golden rules of hookups—no sleepovers and no bareback joyrides. Wrap it up tight!”
We all shudder. My roommates must be thinking about the same thing I am—the close call we had with that baby incident last year. All I can say is thank God the kid wasn’t mine. My spawn would probably end up as fucked up as I am, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
I’m still mulling over Olly’s advice as I drive to the other side of town where Janelle’s staying.
I can’t decide if this plan is ingenious or idiotic. Maybe a combination of both.
It’s late. Almost midnight, but if this is a booty call, this is when that shit goes down. At least the rain has stopped.
When I pull into the parking lot of the motel, I pause, Sienna’s gorgeous face flashing through my mind for some reason. The smile she leveled me with this afternoon almost has me turning my Rover around.
I check my phone, but she never responded to my earlier text. Maybe her phone died. It’s a long flight.
If I’m being honest with myself, which I’m trying to do more of these days, she’s who I’d rather be hooking up with right now, but she’s very committed to that douchebag. So I have no reason to be feeling guilty showing up at Janelle’s door. If I know anything about Cal Winston, he’s banging Sienna on the regular. Hell, he felt her up right there on her front porch. Plus, I’m not sure how my sister would feel if she found out I hooked up with her bestie.
But when my ex opens the door, her somber expression and baggy sweats do not suggest we’re about to roll around naked.
Nor does the toddler asleep on the bed behind her.
I’m frozen as Janelle wraps her arms around me in a hug.
“I’ve missed you,” she coos in a baby voice.
I would not consider myself the paragon of virtue, but there’s no way I’m doing kinky shit with my ex while a kid sleeps a few feet away.
I’ve never seen her baby before. When I found out Janelle’s new guy had knocked her up, I did my best to eradicate thoughts of her from my life. It was too painful to see her move on when she’d promised me that future. I only vaguely inquire about her through my cousin Bianca when I plan trips home so I can avoid my ex.
As I take a good long look at the sleeping bundle, I stop breathing.
Ernest has blond hair. And Janelle has light brown.
My eyes are lasered on the kid, who has thick, black hair.
Much like mine.
Sweat breaks out on my body, and a giant lump forms in my throat.
I cough. “What the fuck is going on?”
Janelle wrings her hands, tears forming in her eyes. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Why I needed to do this in person. It’s long overdue.”
But like all truly messed-up things in my life, I know the answer to my question before the words are out of her mouth.
“She’s yours, Ben.”
3
BEN
A suffocating, twisting blackness spreads through me as I stare at this woman I once loved.
Love. What a fucking joke.
People who love each other don’t do this to each other.
Before I put my hand through the wall, I count down from a hundred. I’m at fifty when she whispers, “Say something.”
“What’s there to say, Janelle? You passed off my kid as another man’s for, what? Two years? Almost three if you count the pregnancy. What do you want? For me to say it’s all right? Because I’m fucking far from being all right at the moment.”
Somehow I manage to grit out those words in a whisper.
“Ben, I promise I didn’t know. Not for sure. Sometimes love makes you see things that aren’t really there.”
I can read between the lines. She loved Ernest and not me and wanted the baby to be his.
My whole body is wound so tight, I’m surprised my jaw doesn’t crack from clenching it. Once my legs work again, I pace the room, all the while watching my daughter sleep.
When I’ve calmed down enough to be confident I’m not going to flip any tables, I ask, “What’s her name?”
“You don’t know?” Her eyes are wide.
“This might come as a shock to you, but I haven’t spent the last three years stalking you. When my family starts talking about you, I practice football routes in my head. When I know you’re visiting, I wait until you’re gone to trek home. When our friends from high school hang out, I make sure you’re not joining them before I show up. Is that plain enough for you?”
She starts to cry.
Christ. Not this shit.
“Why are you upset? You broke up with me, remember?” Her blocking my number was the wakeup call I needed. I should thank her for that or who knows how long I would’ve pined after her. “I would’ve followed you to the ends of the earth. You did this to us.”
I’m being a bastard, but I have zero fucks to give.
After another few minutes, she eventually calms down. At the sight of her swollen eyes and red nose, shame worms its way into my chest, and the reality strikes me like a hammer to an anvil.
Like it or not, Janelle is my baby mama. I chose to sleep with her in high school. I’m the one who let my guard down enough to be devastated by her. That’s on me.
Never again.
Never again will I be such a fucking sucker.
With a sigh, I stare up at the ceiling. The past is done. There’s only moving forward.
“Why did you call me out of the blue? What do you need? Money? You want me to take her on the weekends? What?”
She nods slowly and motions for me to sit down. This can’t be good.
I drop into a chair by the TV, and she perches at the end of the bed.
“Her name is Liliana,” she says, and I grind my teeth. Liliana, the name we came up with one night when we were talking about the future. We’d decided we’d both attend Lone Star State. She’d become a nurse, and I’d work for my family’s construction business if football didn’t work out for me professionally. She wanted three kids. And I wanted to name one Liliana, which was my mother’s middle name.
My unease grows. Did my uncle know the truth all this time? Tío Julio has never been shy about wanting me to get back together with Janelle, but was it more than just hoping I married his best friend’s daughter? Did she use this name wanting me to figure it out?
I keep this to myself. I need to be vulnerable with Janelle the way I need a shotgun hole to my head.
When I don’t respond, she keeps going. “My ex, Ernest, is pissed at me right now. He, uh, he found out she’s not his, and I think he might be unhinged.”
For once in my life, I have an ounce of pity for the man.
I press my palms into my eyes. “Gotta be honest here, Janelle. I’d be upset too if I were in his shoes.” It’s obvious she wants to confess all her sins, so I sit back. “Lay it on me. All of it. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”