The Match - A Baby Daddy Donor Romance

His dark brows come together. “The neighbor?”

I nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Not one hundred percent,” I say. “Carina wouldn’t let me confront him in case he does something crazy, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure.”

“I knew that guy was a fucking creep.” Fabian shakes his head, fingers digging into his hips. “How’d he do it?”

“He came over last night when I was cleaning Lucia up after dinner … I ran off to give her a bath and left my phone on the counter. It was unlocked. I was gone for maybe ten minutes,” I say. “I’m assuming he Air Dropped the photos to his phone. I don’t have proof, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. And he’s the only one who’d have a good reason to do this.”

“I thought he was your friend? Why would he jeopardize that?”

Biting my lip, my gaze flicks to his pristine loafers. “He’s very jealous of you—of your new place in my life, I guess you could say. And the other day, he kissed me.”

Fabian’s jaw sets, his hands ball into white-knuckled fists, and the same livid flicker that colored his eyes earlier today returns.

“I’m going to fucking murder him.” Fabian turns to reach for the doorknob, but I hook my hand into his elbow and steer him back.

“Stop,” I say.

“I told you he was a creep, did I not?” Hard breaths flare his nostrils.

I lift a hand to his angled jaw and trace my fingertips down the side of his face, and with a soothing, motherly tone, I say, “Calm down, okay? Getting worked up isn’t going to fix this. And you’re not going away for murder. You’re too pretty for prison.”

I manage to crack a smile out of him, but it fades just the same. “So what do you propose we do?”

“Confronting him isn’t going to do much. He’ll just deny it. And the police aren’t going to do anything. They’ll say it’s a matter for the courts. We’re going to need a court order to stop this.”

Within seconds, Fabian is speed-dialing someone named Phoebe, and then he disappears into my office to make another call. Ten minutes later, he steps out, one hand hooked on the back of his neck as he blows a breath through his full lips.

“They’re on it,” he says. “But it doesn’t make me want to kill the fucker any less.”

“Will they be able to stop this from going through?”

He winces. “That’s the plan, but no guarantees. They’ll call with any updates.”

We remain in my foyer. Other than the phone call in my office, I haven’t technically invited him beyond this point. And I don’t intend to.

“I can’t stop thinking about earlier.” He studies my face. “I wish I could take it back, the way I spoke to you.”

“You apologized. It’s over.” I shrug.

He leans in, cupping my face. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I’ll never doubt you again.”

I brush his hand aside. “You should probably go to your hotel—or wherever you’re staying tonight.”

Squinting, he chuffs. “Really? So that’s what it’s come to? Rossi, I made a mistake and I’m owning it. It doesn’t mean we should throw in the towel.”

“It’s not about that,” I say. “I mean, it is. That’s part of it. But you’re having a baby, Fabian. With a woman you were going to marry. That’s big. You should be there—with her. Having a baby is a beautiful thing and it’s always worth it in the end, but believe me when I tell you, it sucks to do it alone. She’s going to need you.”

“I’ll be there for her, and for the child—but I want to be with you,” he says. “Tatum and I—we’re over. There’s no future for us. But you, Rossi? And Lucia?”

“You’ve known us, what? Three weeks?”

“Long enough.” He dips his chin, gathering his thoughts. “I want to be a part of Lucia’s life. I want her to know me, and I want to be there for her. And I want to get to know you, all of you.”

Stepping closer, he hooks his hands around my waist and pulls me in.

“You’re welcome to be in Lucia’s life,” I say. “But I think it’s best that we keep things platonic between us.”

He exhales, his breath hot on the top of my head. “What are you so afraid of?”

Everything …

The way he makes me feel when we’re together, like everything is glimmering and new, strange and familiar, impeccably suited for each other. Fabian and I are like that optical illusion where two shapes, when separate, look different, but when you place them over top of one another, they line up perfectly.

But mostly I’m scared of the way he makes me feel when we’re apart … like half of my heart is empty and hollow and I’m permanently holding my breath.

That’s no way to live.