My cheeks burn a blazing bright red. I can practically feel Hunter's intense, heated look beaming against the side of my head. But I can't look. I can't even bring myself to raise my eyes from the ground.
"That's nasty talk, baby boy. Stop it."
"Mommy grunts like a bear, Daddy," he shoots back, causing Hunter to howl with laughter. And when Maverick sees him laughing, he starts in, too.
Everyone within our vicinity stops to stare. I know, the sight of Hunter laughing instead of brooding and on the warpath is a sight to see. But not if it's at my expense. However, that’s not what has my belly in a knot. It’s the heated look Hunter shoots my way while he’s laughing like he’s trying to cover up his real reaction with humor.
"Maverick Landon Prince," I scold in my deepest mom-tone, so he knows I mean business.
Immediately, his laughter stops, and he reaches for me. Hunter, albeit reluctantly, hands him over. I hope he doesn't think I missed that. Maverick must be growing on him.
The moment Maverick settles in my arms, he plops a kiss on my scalding cheek. "Sorry, Mommy."
Instantly, I melt. There's just something about having your child in your arms that immediately relaxes you, no matter the situation. Cuddling him to my chest, I pat his little butt and blow raspberries on his little neck, listening to him squeal with laughter.
Everything is perfect.
That is until he opens his mouth again, and what comes out has to be the result of spending too much time with my brother. "Daddy made Mommy grunt, too."
Hastening my steps, I decide it's better to get him out of the congested area of the courtyard and into the clinic where the test results were faxed this morning. Hunter bellows with laughter from behind, and I hear him calling after me to wait up, but I ignore him.
"I swear, I swear, I swear," I murmur under my breath.
Disappearing inside, a flash of chilling AC sweeps over my body, making me shudder as I walk toward the desk. The woman behind remembers us immediately and holds her finger up with a smile. She walks back toward our files, shuffles through them, and then produces an envelope.
"We didn't know when you'd be in, so we put your results in the envelope," she says by way of explaining as she hands it to me.
I give her a small smile, and then make my way toward the door just as Hunter shadows the entrance. He sees me with the envelope, and between one heartbeat and the next, the laughter from before washes off his face. He goes sullen, unreachable, hiding behind his stoic expression and brooding aura.
"That it?" He already knows it is, but just like me, I guess he needs confirmation.
Slipping outside, we make our way toward my apartment. However, I get no more than a few steps before a soft touch startles me into stopping and jerking around toward him. He flicks his eyes from Maverick to me, to the envelope, and then back to me, unable to come up with the precise words to say.
I already know what the results are going to be, but my nerves are still shot. What if Hunter really doesn't want to be a dad? I mean, he's taken such good care of Maverick since my brother let his existence out of the bag. But full time? Will Hunter really want to be a part of Maverick's life?
Just the thought of him not wanting to causes a level of despair to settle in my stomach. While I'm ;fine doing things on my own, I find that ... I don't want to. Co-parenting with Hunter is becoming more and more normal with every day he shows up on our doorstep after classes. Or before breakfast on the weekend.
But who knows what six months or a year will bring? These results? They may make everything worse instead of better. Because if he denies Maverick, that'll absolutely break my heart.
"Please, don't cry," Hunter soothes, stepping closer. He wipes a tear from under my eye and cradles my cheek in his palm.
I hate the way I can't quite differentiate this version of Hunter and the high school version. They're still two different sides of the same coin.
At the thought, the tears start coming more frequently. Maverick, sensing my distress, hugs me tighter and sticks his face in my neck as if he can magically hug everything better. In a way, he can. He's my treasure and the light in my dark tunnel. But this isn't a pain that's mental or physical. It's an emotional pain that slices me in half, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
A lie tore us apart, but will the truth set us free?
Hunter scans the area, then suggests, "Let's go to Mom and Pop’s just up the way. I hear they have good Tall Blacks and blueberry muffins."
I gasp, searching his eyes. He gives me a small wink that lights a fire inside me, then wraps an arm around me and guides me that way. As soon as we step inside, I nearly lose my touch with reality.
Pastries. Fudge. Coffee. Tea. Caramel Creme Bars. All homemade. None prepackaged from bulk wholesalers.
A real soft, homey place to sit down and enjoy yourself in peace and quiet.
The smell emanating from Mom and Pop’s can only be described as carbohydrates and refined sugar, and it wraps around me like a comforting, weighted blanket in the middle of a cool, dreary day.
"Smell good!" Maverick jerks up, saying loudly.
"Don't it, though?" I inhale until I can't anymore, and then make my way to the older woman, Mom, standing behind the counter, smiling broadly. "Hey, Mom!"
"Well, bless my soul," she coos, eyes twinkling brightly. "Is this your little one?"
I nod. "Sure is! Ain't he somethin'?"
Nodding her head in return, she gets a little wistful. I always love coming in here to Mom and Pop’s. They have the best service, hands down, in this town. They are very reserved, just like your average southern grandma and grandpa, but they still get turned up if they feel very personal about something.
She gives Hunter a chin jerk. "You must be a pretty proud papa, huh?"
I smile brightly, but just as quickly as the smile overtakes my face, it fizzles out. Hunter notices, too, but doesn't comment on it. I also don't miss the way he doesn't answer her, as he smiles and tells her that we'll seat ourselves.
Already, I know this little meeting isn't going to go swell, for either me or Maverick. Lord knows the way Hunter will react.
Sitting Maverick beside me, I gather the little coloring page and a crayon, allowing him to get lost in his artwork. Hunter stares down at him, with obvious affection shining in his eyes, and then swallows hard as he breaks the connection to look at me.
"I don't want to know."
My heart falls to the pit of my stomach at his words, eyes closing of their own accord. Every part of me screams that I knew this was going to happen, but I didn't want to fully believe it.
"Then why put me through what you did?" I inquire, opening my eyes to stare across the table at him. "If you weren't even interested in the results, why?"
He fidgets, nervous. He has trouble swallowing but finally manages it. Scooting closer to the table, he places his hands on the table and presses his face into them, breathing heavily. Without thought, I grab his wrist, pulling one hand from his face so I can see him.
"Hunter, what's wrong?' He's never been the type to get emotional like this. Hurried spouts of anger, lust, or happiness—yes. But actually, deep in the feels kind of stuff? No. Never.
He huffs, his arms falling down to the table with a soft thud. "What if he's not mine?" I go to snap at him, but he beats me to it. "You say he is, yes. But, my mind has been fu …" he pauses, peering down at his son, then back to me, as he amends, "messed up since sophomore year. You could be telling the truth. Not gonna deny that. But I've conditioned myself to not expect anything from anyone, even honesty."