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Trent had texted me directions to his place, since he no longer lived at his family’s mansion. As big as that place was I was surprised he hadn’t stayed. Surely he had plenty of privacy there.
I drove through town and turned into a nice neighborhood lined with brick three-story townhomes. My mouth gaped open. What kind of twenty-one year old guy needed a place like this?
I pulled along the road and checked my phone to make sure I’d remembered the right house number. When I was sure I had it correct, I drove forward and pulled into the driveway. I sat for a moment, a bit scared to get out and knock on the door.
“You have nothing to be scared of, Rowan,” I mumbled to myself.
Great, not only did I talk to myself in the mirror, but now I did it in the car too.
I stepped out and locked my car—although, in this nice neighborhood, I doubted anyone would want to break into this jalopy.
I bound up the steps to the front door with a pep I didn’t really feel. I reached out and hesitantly knocked on the door. No sounds greeted me, and when more than thirty-seconds had passed without Trent appearing, I pushed the doorbell.
I heard Trent talking, but no one answered, so I was a bit confused about what was going on.
“Stay away from there, Dean!” He yelled as the door swung open.
“Hi,” I said, but he wasn’t looking at me, but over his shoulder.
That’s when I saw the baby.
Holy shit.
Trent had a kid.
A fucking baby.
My throat closed up. He had a kid with some girl that was probably a whole lot prettier and nicer than I was. I wondered why he wasn’t with her and why he was wasting time with me.
I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but I turned around and ran towards my car.
Trent called after me, but I didn’t stop.
I went to unlock my car, but I couldn’t find my keys. Where the hell were my keys? I patted my pockets, looked in my purse, and they weren’t there. So much for my quick escape.
The door to his townhouse was opening again and I turned to see him running down the steps with the drooling little monster in his arms. Normally, I went gaga over a baby, but seeing Trent’s offspring from some whore was making me so angry I couldn’t see straight.
“Stay away from me!” I seethed, ready to punch him in the nose if he took one step closer.
“Row, I don’t know why you’re freaking out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Dean. I forgot I was supposed to watch him.”
The baby—which was really more a toddler—blew spit bubbles at me and waved. I hated to admit it, but he was pretty cute.
“You should’ve told me you had a kid!” I exclaimed, pointing at the child in his arms. “I deserved to know!”
Trent’s brows furrowed in puzzlement. “You think Dean is my kid?”
I gave him a ‘duh’ look, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not dumb, Trenton.”
“No, not dumb,” he laughed, “but jumping to conclusions can get you in trouble. Dean isn’t my kid.”
“He’s not?” I hated the fact that those words made me breathe easier.
“No,” Trent chuckled. “He’s my nephew.”
“Nephew…?” Oh. I’m a colossal idiot and just made a fool of myself.
“Yeah, this is Dean,” he pointed to the baby, outfitted in a red plaid jumper, “Trace’s son.”
