Page 23 of Unrivaled

But I learned the harsh reality that fairy tales don’t come true. Not the Disney versions, anyway. The Brothers Grimm might’ve gotten it right with their gruesome morality tales. I’m not so sure any of those characters could’ve gotten a successful happily ever after.

So maybe fairy tales are more true than I realized, because look at what fate has dragged back to my door?

My son’s wayward sperm donor, claiming ignorance, and a newfound desire to be involved with his son’s life.

I honestly don’t know how to feel right now. Or what to think.

What does he even want from this? From me?

When Ben and I come through the door, I catch a glimpse of Grayson’s face. He wears a mixture of pleasure and astonishment that just confirms that Ben looks exactly like his father did at that age.

No surprise to me. When Carter was ruled out, Grayson was the only other option. And while I’ve seen certain mannerisms of mine in my son, he looks nothing like me. To the point that people don’t always think he belongs to me when we’re out in public. But with Grayson at my side, no one would doubt that they’re related.

My breath hitches at the thought of Grayson being at my side. I’ve long since given up on the idea of a traditional nuclear family—or so I thought.

Teen motherhood doesn’t exactly lend itself to normal dating. Especially after learning that one-night stands are far more dangerous than movies and TV shows lead you to believe. One bum condom, and suddenly you’re a mom at eighteen. But I haven’t been a nun. I’ve gone on some dates, even had a steady thing for a while last year. He got fed up when I wouldn’t prioritize him over my son or school, though, so that inevitably fizzled out.

So I’ve told myself again and again that my dad would be enough of a father figure for Ben.

But now? Seeing Grayson’s face lit up with delight at the sight of his son?

Who wouldn’t want to believe that he’d been clueless before now?

Swallowing down all my confusion and fear and residual anger, I give him a brief nod before turning my attention to Ben. Grayson will just have to wait.

“You need to go potty before we go?”

“Nope!” And he’s off, running down the hall to the door outside.

Grayson chuckles next to me, the sound low and smooth, full of indulgent amusement. “He’s energetic, isn’t he?”

“Yup.” We take a few steps in silence, my mind whirling with questions. So he’s here. Let’s say I buy his story that he never found out about Ben, that his coach didn’t bother to tell him and fobbed my dad off with a story designed to make me leave him alone. It sounds like something out of a prime time drama or a daytime soap opera, but let’s just pretend, for the sake of argument, that it’s the truth.

What does he want now? What’s his plan?

I spread my hands in front of me. “So you’ve seen him. What now? You gonna walk us to my car?”

He stops, blinking at me with those chocolate brown eyes that I can’t deny are so similar to Ben’s, down to the gold flecks that you can only see up close. With a glance at Ben waiting by the door, he clears his throat. “I mean, if that’s my only option, then yes. I’d hoped we could maybe go somewhere. Get some ice cream or … I dunno what little kids like to do. It’s kinda cold for a park today. We could go to the toy section at a store. I could maybe buy him something.”

Oh god. He really wants to be involved. And I’ve been on my own for so long, expected to be on my own forever, really, that I don’t even know how to react to that like a normal human. Though really, what would a normal human reaction be here? I haven’t had time to look, but I somehow doubt there’s an eHow article about how to respond when the sperm donor you believe abandoned you and your son shows up saying he never knew about his son’s existence and now wants to be part of his life.

Puking all over Grayson Kilpatrick’s broad, muscular chest seems like one on a long list of potential responses. Not that I should be noticing his broad, muscular chest. Or how sweet it is that he wants to buy Ben a toy or ice cream or both.

Because it’s not sweet that he’s trying to buy my kid’s affections right off the bat.

Nope. That’s not the way we’re going to play this out. Not today, at least.

“Walking us to the car is fine,” I croak out. I need some time and space to consider what amount of involvement I’m okay with. Figure out some ground rules. Tell my parents.

Oh god. My hand flies to my forehead involuntarily. My parents are going to lose their shit.

His face falls, but I don’t have the bandwidth to do much more than register his disappointment, certainly not any extra space to care about it. “Alright,” he says quietly. “But unblock my number so I can get in touch with you. We should get a DNA test, just so there’s an official record that I’m the father in case anyone questions it. I absolutely believe you, but …”

“Yeah. Sure. Fine. That’s fine. I get it.”

His lips press together like he’s annoyed at my response, but I’m not sure what else anyone can expect from me here.Heblindsidedme, after all. Sure, maybe this is all super surprising for him too, but as far as I knew, he decided he wanted nothing to do with us years ago. To have him suddenly show up demanding to meet his son and asking for a paternity test …

No matter how reasonable that might look on the surface, it’s thrown me for a huge loop, and I need time to sort out my feelings. And Grayson Kilpatrick’s handsome face watching me do that will not help at all.

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