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Then I hang up and stalk back toward the fence.

Theo is still celebrating. Blaire is clapping for him, but the second I step beside her she shoots me a disappointed look.

I lean against the fence and force a smile onto my face. “Good job, buddy!” I yell.

Theo lights up when he hears me. “Daddy! Did you see?”

“I did!” I lie. “You did so good Theo!”

I shut my phone off and shove it in my pocket.

***

Theo is still talking about the game when we turn into my neighborhood. You'd think the kid just won the World Series. He's been replaying every second of it since we left the field. I've heard the story at least fifteen times already, and he shows absolutely no signs of stopping.

Thank God Blaire recorded it.

She'd sent it to me after the game with a simple Thought you'd want this.

"You did so good, buddy—" I stop mid-sentence. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Sitting in my driveway is a very familiar baby-blue BMW.

No fucking way.

I specifically told her not to come over. The phone calls during T-ball were one thing. Showing up at my house during my custody time after I explicitly told her no?

Absolutely not.

I kill the engine and sit there for a second trying to get my temper under control.

“Daddy?”

I look back at Theo and force my jaw to unclench.

“Just stay here for a second, buddy.”

“Who here?”

I unbuckle my seatbelt and reach for the door handle. “Just a friend. I gotta talk to her about something.”

I climb out of the truck at the same moment Veronica steps out of hers. I slam the truck door behind me harder than I should.

“What in the fucking world are you doing here?” I snap.

“Coming to talk to you!” she fires back immediately. “You don't get to dictate when I can and can't talk to you about something important like our relationship.”

“I have my kid!”

“So do what normal people do and introduce me!”

“We've been dating three months,” I say through gritted teeth. “You don't get to show up at my house and start making demands about my child.”

“But you can't just—”

“Daddy?” Theo has rolled down the back window. His little face is peeking out between the glass and the frame.

“Stay in the truck!” I bark without thinking.