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I quickly drag my eyes up from his bare feet.
He's standing in front of me... shirtless. A pair of black gym shorts hang low on his hips, revealing the deep V that I can't seem to look away from. His dark mop of curls is a mess, like he’s run his fingers through them a million times. Likely in frustration or anxiousness, just like he’s always done. But what causes me to pause is the worried look in his dark, amber-flecked eyes. He’s not his usual happy, playful self.
"Uh, hi?" I ask, my hand still suspended in midair.
"Come in." He opens the door wider for me to enter. When I pass him, I get the smallest whiff of his body wash, and I almost whimper.
God, Holland, how pathetic are you?
"So... What I'm about to tell you is highly confidential." He starts the second the front door is closed behind me.
I walk over to the bar stool, next to his kitchen island, set my purse down in front of me and slide onto the luxury wooded stool.
"Okaaaaay..."
"Seriously, Holl, it can't leave this room. It's important."
I roll my eyes. "You're as dramatic as Briggs,whatis going on?"
Before he can answer me, a toddler, maybe two or three years old, comes padding down the hallway, clutching a worn octopus tightly to his little body.
"Daddy?"
"Oh my god," I whisper and grab onto the counter for dear life. I look back and forth between the tiny little boy, who has the same hair and dark eyes as the man standing in front of me, who looks as panicked as I feel.
The little boy's lower lip begins to tremble.
I look at Reed. "You have... achild?" I screech.
Holy. Shit.
This is a secret I don't think evenIcan keep.
