Page 27 of Unrivaled

When he’s standing in front of me, he pulls his backpack around, unzips it, and pulls out a plastic grocery sack.

I take it from his outstretched hand, peeking inside to find a receipt nestled next to a box featuring a picture of a man holding up a child. The paternity test, it seems. They make it look so cheerful and happy, and not terrifying and life altering. Marketing lies.

Lifting my eyes to Grayson’s, I give him a closed-mouth smile. “Thanks. Gotta go.” I swivel on my heel and march for the door, hoping against hope that he’ll take the hint and leave.

No such luck. “Hold up,” he calls, jogging a few steps to catch up to me, his breath visible in front of him.

I don’t bother holding back my eye roll. “Really? I thought you just wanted to give me the test.”

Shaking his head, he chuckles. He actually fucking chuckles like the idea that he’d leave me alone is adorable and amusing. “Was yesterday really so terrible?”

It wasn’t, but I’m not going to admit anything of the sort. Besides, he was with us for like five minutes.

Fortunately, getting into the building and to Ben’s classroom before the pickup cut off time saves me from answering or acknowledging his question.

Once again, Grayson waits in the hall, watching through the open half of the Dutch door while I collect Ben and check in with his teacher. Ben turns in my arms, patting my shoulder with excitement. “Look, Mommy! Look! It’s your friend from yesterday! Will he swing me again? Please please please please please?”

Miss Kate gives me an amused, knowing look. “Yourfriendseems to have made a good impression on Ben.”

I hope my grimace passes as a smile. “Mmm. Yeah. It seems so.” I am absolutely not getting into this with Ben’s teacher right now, though she will have to be told eventually. The upheaval in Ben’s life is reason enough to tell her, but—another cold swirl of nausea roils in my belly—if Grayson pursues some kind of custody arrangement, he’ll need to be added to the list of emergency contacts and approved pickup people.

God, so much could change just from one chance encounter.

Ha. If that isn’t the story of my life right there.

Wrapping an arm around Ben, I squeeze him tight, and he squirms. “Mooom,” he protests. “Put me down. I wanna say hi to your friend.”

“Alright, Benny. Sorry.” My voice is hoarse, and I clear my throat, grateful that Miss Kate has already moved on to another parent so I don’t have to worry about her curiosity over my reaction.

Bending, I set Ben on his feet, and he immediately takes off to talk to Grayson, jumping up and down with his excitement. Grayson’s face lights up, and he reaches over the door to give Ben a high five.

I drag myself to the cubbies to collect Ben’s coat and backpack, then head for the door. Forcing my voice to be cheerful and pretending to be unconcerned with the near stranger trying to stake a claim on my son, I smile and hold out Ben’s coat. “It’s chilly. Let’s put your coat on before we go out, okay?”

Distractedly, because he’s still chattering away to Grayson, telling him all about the playground equipment and how many times he went down the slide today and what he had for snack after, Ben shoves his arms in his sleeves. I squat down and zip it for him, pulling his mittens out of his backpack and holding them out for him to shove his hands into, which he does with barely a glance in my direction, bouncing all the while and making the task ten times harder than normal.

“Benny.” No response. I pat his arm and turn him to face me. “Ben. I need you to talk to me for a sec, okay?”

His face screws up, his mouth turned down. “What?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Is that how we talk to each other?”

He sighs heavily. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Do you want your hat or your hood?”

“Hat!” he yells, bouncing back toward Grayson.

Pulling out his hat, I stand and stuff it on his head from behind.

Irritated, he glares back at me, swiping his hair out of his face.

Biting back my laugh, I help tuck his hair out of the way. “Don’t turn away when you know I need to put your hat on.”

Grayson meets my eyes and gives me a blinding smile. But when my answering smile is stiff, his falters, turning strained, hitching back up as he faces Ben again.

When I put my hand on the doorknob, Grayson steps out of the way, and Ben runs right for him, grabbing at his hand. My heart clenches. Is it really so easy to lose my son to this random guy?

“Swing me! Swing me! Swing me!” Ben demands, jumping up and down while holding onto Grayson’s hand.

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