Page 32 of Unrivaled

I’m not that guy. And I hate that anyone would think I am. I just don’t know how to change her mind.

Tiffany stares at me a moment longer, then sighs. “Is this going to be a short conversation? Because I’m cold, and I’d prefer if we moved inside somewhere if it’s going to take longer than a few minutes.”

Grunting again, I gesture toward the parking lot behind the athletics complex and slowly start heading that way. After a moment, she falls in step beside me. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

Even though I asked a question, I plow ahead without giving her time to answer, hoping if I just keep talking, I’ll be able to convince her to have dinner with me. To give her a chance to get to know me, to see me for the guy I really am, not the shitty fuckface she’s believed me to be all this time. “I had a long workout today, and I need food. We could go somewhere and have dinner, or if you’d prefer to have our conversation in private, we could go to my apartment. I can make something quick for dinner.”

Her lips are parted in surprise when I look back at her, and a flash of memory hits me like a punch in the solar plexus, the feel of those lips under mine, the way she sucked on my tongue and fed hers back to me when we kissed. Damn, she was a good kisser in high school. How much better would she be now?

But kissing’s not on the menu, and I need to make sure I remember that.

For one thing, she hates me. Has hated me for years now. And for another, this is about Ben.

She clears her throat, and when I glance back, I realize she’s stopped. Her eyes jump to mine, and I can’t help wondering what she was looking at. Was she ogling my ass?

I bite back a smile, forcing myself to remain neutral as well, even if I get a surge of pride and excitement at the thought of her checking me out. At least the attraction between us is still mutual, even if I know we won’t act on it.

“Where were you thinking of going for dinner?”

I was right. She does prefer to be somewhere public.

Shrugging, I hitch my backpack higher on my shoulder. “I’ll eat pretty much anything, though my meal plan wants me to eat mostly lean meats and veggies with some carbs to balance it out. I’m due a cheat day, though, so I can splurge on something at a restaurant. Anywhere you’re partial to? Or I can just pick and drive us.”

She tilts her chin up, her eyes narrowing. “I wasn’t planning on riding with you.”

“Okay.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, even though I would actually like her to ride with me. We could start hashing out details in the car. And if things get too heated to continue in a public restaurant, we can move to the car so we don’t have to worry about people listening in on our business.

Plus, I want the opportunity to break through that neutral wall she’s erected to keep me at bay. To show her that I’m a good guy who’d make a good father if given half a chance. But I can’t do that if she won’t give me the time of day.

I suppose I should be grateful she agreed to this meeting at all and is even willing to eat dinner with me, though. Maybe eventually she’ll come around.

Glancing in the direction she came from, which is the opposite direction of my car, I tilt my head toward the parking lot behind me again. “Let me give you a ride to your car at least, and we can decide where to go on the way there.”

Her sigh of defeat shouldn’t make me feel as happy as it does, but I can’t help it. Every little victory buoys me and makes me feel like, as shitty as things are right now, there might be hope for something better eventually. Maybe not soon, but eventually.

I did some googling about co-parenting, and everything says it works best if the parents can have a cordial relationship. I’ll settle for cordial if that’s all I can get. But I’d prefer friendly. Or … I dunno … the part of me that’s always found Tiffany attractive, the part of me who felt the draw to her when I walked into that party and saw her standing with her friend, the part of me who couldn’t believe his luck when she not only danced with me but let me lead her to a bedroom …

That part of me wants to see what might’ve happened between us if she’d given me her number that night.

A pang of longing hits me. Because if she had given me her number, I would’ve called her. And she would’ve been able to tell me she was pregnant. And I could’ve been there for her all along.

Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I stuff down those feelings. When we reach my car, I unlock it and hold the passenger door open for her.

With her arms still crossed and eyes still narrowed in that glare, she stops in front of the door and stares at me. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

I raise my eyebrows, returning her impassive mask with one of my own. “Do what exactly?”

She waves a hand at me. “The whole gentleman act. Offering to take me to dinner. Opening my door. This isn’t a date, and I’m not going to fall all over myself in gratitude for a meal and door holding and hand my son over to you like that.”

“That’s not—” I start to protest, but she shakes her head and cuts me off.

“Just don’t, okay? You don’t need to woo me. This isn’t about us. It’s about Ben. Don’t treat me like a potential conquest. Just be normal. It’ll be easier on all of us that way.”

My brows pull together as she climbs into the car, leaving me to puzzle over that barb. A potential conquest? Is that what she thinks this is? I thought I was just being gentlemanly.

Rounding the car, I climb into the driver’s seat and start the ignition before facing her, my hands gripping the steering wheel. “I’d hoped that we could have a polite conversation. I’m being nice. I’m not trying to manipulate you into anything.” I pause, waiting for a response, and when all she does is snort, I grind my teeth.

“It’s not like I need to be extra nice or manipulative anyway,” I mutter, irritation and frustration rising up inside me. Getting the better of me. Even as the words leave my mouth, I know this isn’t the best way to win her over, but I can’t seem to stop them. “We both know that I’m Ben’s father. I have parental rights. The DNA test proves it. And even if it’s not admissible in court, I’m sure it’s enough evidence for a judge to order an admissible test. And then, what? We let some random stranger decide what’s best for Ben? Is that really what you want?”

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