Page 160 of Small Town Firsts

“Wh-what else do you remember from that night?”

ALDEN

My jaw ticks. What the fuck kind of game is Natalie playing right now? Whatever it is, I’m not interested. After everything Mia put me through, I vowed no more bullshit, and this conversation reeks of it.

“Honestly, not a whole lot. It was a long time ago, and I had been drinking.”

Natalie sucks in a deep breath, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “We slept together that night. I came onto you, and you seemed into it. Into me. I-I didn’t realize just how m-much you’d had to drink. It was my first time and yeah…”

Her first time? What the…is that why she had on my shirt and was in the guest room with me?No. No way. Thinking back, I realize the timing is spot on, but still…this can’t be real, can it? Hell, I was so drunk that night, I couldn’t tell my ass from my face. Could I really be Nat’s baby daddy?And if what she’s saying is true, what gave her the right to deny me a spot in my daughter’s life?

My heart stops. Time stops. The fucking world stops.

“Holy shit. You…you’re serious, aren’t you?” My gut and her eyes say she’s telling the truth—that we did sleep together. But that sure as shit doesn’t make me her baby daddy. Hell, for all I know she sees me as an easy target. Lord knows Mia did.

She nods, her tears finally falling, running down her cheeks and dripping from her chin.

I drop my head into my hands, massaging my temples...how is this even real? “I…I have a daughter,” I murmur to myself, testing out how it feels. My initial instinct is to call her on her bullshit and leave, but something keeps me from doing so.

“I have a daughter.” My shock quickly gives way to anger. “How could you not fucking tell me? What right do you have to keep something like this from me?” Jesus, do I know how to pick ’em or what? My ex was the single most conniving woman on this earth; and Natalie, well, I’m not sure yet, but she could be a close fucking second. Because even if this shit is true, she kept it from me for four fucking years.

“It’s n-not l-like that,” Natalie hiccups out. “I-I never?—”

I scoff, hardly able to even look at her, sitting there sniffling like she’s the wronged party…like she’s some delicate little flower that got trampled on. When in reality, she’s nothing more than a liar and a thief of my time. “You never what? Thought this day would come? You never thought you’d have to come clean?”

“No!” she shakes her head rapidly. “No, that’s not it, I swear.”

I cross my arms over my chest and sit back farther into my seat to create more distance—emotionally and physically—between us. “You might want to explain what itislike, really fucking fast, Natalie.”

She blinks through her tears and glances around the alcove like the answers she’s looking for will magically appear.Too bad, sweetheart, ain’t gonna happen.

“I…I was so young and sc-scared, and I know I made the wrong choice. I know I should have t-told you.”

I pound my fist onto the table, causing our glasses and such to rattle. “You’re damn right you should have!”

My hard, angry tone makes her jump back in her chair. I’d feel bad if I wasn’t so damn furious. And hurt. This sense of betrayal and loss is so potent it’s almost choking me.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“Save your apologies, Natalie. They don’t mean shit to me. There’s nothing you can say that will fix this. You robbed me of three years ofmydaughter’s life. All those firsts you got to cherish? I. Missed.” I grit my teeth together. She continues to cry and apologize, but I ignore her. My head is spinning, but I know if I don’t get the fuck away from her, this is going to get ugly. Sliding my phone from my pocket, I tap the Uber app on my home screen and order her a car.

With that done, I push back from the table and grab my wallet, throwing down a twenty-dollar bill.

“Wh-where are you g-going?” she asks through her sobs.

“Away from here…from you. I can’t stand the sight of you right now.”

“Wha—”

I speak over her, not interested in anything else she has to say. “I ordered you a car. Don’t come into work on Monday.” I push past her and stalk out the bistro, ignoring the curious stares from other patrons. To say this is not how I saw the night going might just be the understatement of the year. I feel blindsided and deceived and so fucking angry.

Who does shit like this?

Natalie fucking Reynolds—that’s who.

Once in the privacy of my car, I break.

Shock like I’ve only ever felt once before flows through my veins, igniting and bubbling to the surface. I slam my fist into my steering wheel, desperate to dull the emotional ache. When that doesn’t work, I do it again and again until my knuckles are red and raw.

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