Page 18 of Wrong Number, Right Single Dad
I’ve already fallen.
His hands slide into my hair, brushing it away from my face. My fingers dig into the soft cotton of his T-shirt. I melt into him, completely, until?—
BEEP.
We both flinch as the sound cuts through the air. Our phones are side-by-side on the coffee table.
“Oh, shit.” He sits up and reaches forward. “I bet that’s the fire house. The chief said he’d be in touch if they need me to come in and cover for one of the rookies tonight.”
“I can stay with Hannah if you need me to.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He clicks on the message. His jaw grows tight. “What’s this?”
“What do you mean?” I frown as I take the phone. “Was it my phone?”
I look down at the lock screen.
And read the message.
CASHAPP: $200 received from DaddyDom69 – Advance Payment for some fresh content. Don’t leave Daddy waiting.
My stomach drops.
Shit. Shit. It’s a message from a client I haven’t spoken to in months. Someone, and something, I thought I’d put behind me.
“I can explain,” I say quickly, setting down my phone.
Jared stares, not blinking. “Before I got my job at the call center?—”
“You had a different line of work.”
I meet his gaze. “Yes, I did.”
He stands abruptly and starts pacing the rug. “For how long?”
“Since college,” I say clearly, forcing myself not to shrink. “It was only ever virtual. Just… messages. Videos. Calls. That’s it. I never met anyone in person.”
“You mean no one until me.”
“I never asked you for money.”
He nods slowly, jaw tight. “So this whole time?—”
“I haven’t done anything since I started my current job. I swear.”
“I believe you,” he says. But his tone is distant. Cool. “But it doesn’t really matter. Does it?”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“This was all a mistake.” He drags a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. “I shouldn’t have signed up for that damn app. I was lonely. Horny. I didn’t want to feel so alone, but I didn’t want to risk...”
He looks at me, finally—really looks—and it guts me.
“I have a daughter, Delaney. She’s all I have. She looks to me for everything. For the example I set. For the people I bring into our life.”
Oof. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry.” And the way he says it, the way devastation plays across his face. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but…”
