Arrogant Playboy(38)

“I’ll file the petition,” Roger says. “Beckham, this won’t be quick. A judge has to determine if there’s sufficient evidence before he can order the paternity test, and even then Eva can hire an attorney. She’ll have thirty days to contest it from the time we serve her.”

“What choice do I have here?” I fire back. “Get it done.”

I hang up and step toward the door, watching as Eva sits up and places her hand out. She pleads with me to stay a while longer before slick tears slide down her cheeks.

Hate doesn’t usually reside in my heart, but right now, I hate Eva for doing this, for creating a self-serving, chaotic mess.

“I don’t love you, and I never did.” A furious burn fills my chest. I want to look at the baby, but I can’t bring myself to. “I will never be with you. And if she’s mine, God help us all because you’re not fit to care for her. You can hardly take care of yourself.”

I’ll never forget finding a medicine cabinet full of sedatives and benzodiazepine in her bathroom. Tranquilizers. Prescription sleep aids. Anything a person might need to forget about life for a while. None of it was in her name. I set her up with Dr. Brentwood immediately after that. She needed managed care not black market Xanax.

Her lips tremble as she squeezes the baby tight. Maybe I’m an asshole. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut and walked away, but it’s all I can do to maintain my composure. It’s building, burning inside me. It has to come out.

“We could be happy. Just give us a chance.” Her voice is tired, small. I won’t stand around and listen to this anymore. When I storm out the door, I hear her say, “I’m not lying, Beckham. She’s your daughter...”

I don’t want to believe her, and I fucking hate the fact that part of me does.

***

“You’re back.” Odessa glances up from her desk when I return.

I’m not sure why the first place I went was to her. I’m standing in her doorway. Not talking. I don’t know what to say. In the blink of an eye, I lost all control over my carefully crafted, painstakingly perfected bachelor life.

My hands ache for something real. Fuck, if I could feel those sleek auburn locks through my fingers and press my lips against hers, maybe I’d taste a bit of calm again.

“Hey, you okay?” Odessa raises an eyebrow, shutting the lid to her computer. “You’re freaking me out here.”

She comes to my side with hesitant steps, her sweet perfume filling my lungs. I’m in a mood. Fuck, am I in a mood.

I’m in a mood to burn everything to the ground.

“Say something.” Odessa laughs, not because it’s funny. She’s nervous. She winces, slightly, as if I scare her. “Where’d you go?”

She rises on her toes, brushing a rogue strand of hair off my forehead. I close my eyes, pulling another lungful of Odessa in. I have to have her. Fuck Dane’s rules. Fuck the consultancy. Fuck mind games.

“Odessa.” I swallow, eyes still closed.

“Yes?”

“Don’t touch me again.” My instructions are concentrated, clear as day. I peer down at her now, catching a slight shake in her chest when she breathes.

She backs up, her hand resting across her chest. “I-I’m sorry.”

“If you touch me again, I’m going to touch you back,” I say. “And I can’t promise I’ll stop once I start.”

“Beckham, you need to sit down.” She reaches for my hand and stops, heeding my warning. “Let me get you some water at least.”

“Stop being so nice. Thought I made myself clear this morning.” Her kindness confuses me, and I sure as hell don’t deserve it.

“Maybe I should leave for the day. I can’t do anything right around you.” She zips around her desk and gathers her things, shoving them into a bag and muttering under her breath. “God forbid I try to be a decent human being.”

“Don’t go.” I need the distraction. She grounds me.

She stops shuffling about. “Maybe you should go home then. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be around each other today.”

“Why?”

“Because you confuse me. And you’re making me nervous, which never happens.” She stands two feet in front of me, head cocked, studying me. “And I don’t trust myself.”

“Don’t trust yourself?”

“You’re clearly two seconds from doing something we’ll both regret,” she sighs. “And I’m two seconds from letting you.”

Odessa’s hands lift to her face, tucking her hair back.

“Which is absolutely ridiculous because hooking up with you is the last thing I should be doing right now, and I–”