My chest warmed watching them interact, and I felt my lips spread into the most ridiculous smile. Remembering this morning, the smile quickly fell from my face and I crossed my arms over my chest—­as if that could ward off the warmth I felt watching them together.

“Are you coming over again soon?”

Coen shrugged and nodded toward me. “I don’t know, that’s up to your mom.”

“Mom, can Coen come over again?”

Looking over at me, Coen lowered his voice so Parker couldn’t hear him. “Yeah, Reagan . . . can I come over again?”

I didn’t miss the suggestive tone in his question, and just as I was about to give him a look telling him to cool it in front of Parker, he started wrapping his arm around my waist, and I jumped away from him. Coen’s arm fell, as did his expression before confusion settled over his face.

“Uh, we’ll see, honey. Why don’t you go back to playing with Jason . . . unless you’re ready to leave?”

“No, Mom, please? Can we stay longer?”

I just nodded and smiled until he turned and ran back to where Jason was still sitting, and sighed in relief—­knowing we’d gotten through a conversation without Parker mentioning the dad thing.

“Hey,” Coen said softly, and reached for my hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Stop,” I hissed, and moved away from him.

Coen looked at me in shock, his mouth slightly open as he tried to find the words to say. “Rea—­”

“You can’t just touch me like that in front of Parker,” I whispered, and looked around to see if anyone was near us.

Coen’s eyebrows shot up, and he blinked slowly at me. “You’re . . . you’re joking, right?”

“No, I’m not. He’ll start getting used to seeing that, and I don’t want him to.”

“Are you—­I don’t f**king understand where all this is coming from, Reagan. Just last night I kissed you in front of him. Fuck, you kissed me in front of him. You were lying in my arms in front of him while we watched the movie. And now all of a sudden I can’t put my arm around you? I can’t hold your damn hand? Something I did the first night we all hung out together? What has changed since last night that I don’t know about?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat, and focused on Parker instead of Coen. “I just think that all of this is too much. You spending time with us, being around Parker, him getting used to you . . .”

He laughed and ran a hand over his head, but there was an edge to the laugh. He knew I was shutting him out, and from the look in his eyes, he was terrified. “Isn’t that the point? For him to get used to me? For him to get to know me? For me to get to know him? All of this as a part of wanting to be with his mom?”

Locking my jaw when I saw his confused and hurt expression, I tried to find the will to say what was needed, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Tell me what happened. Tell me what that mind of yours is scaring you with now, Reagan. Because I went to your apartment for the first time last night, something I know you don’t let anyone do. I spent time making dinner and watching a movie with you and your son.” Coen closed the distance between us and gritted, “When he went to sleep, I was buried so deep inside you I had to keep my hand over your f**king mouth so he wouldn’t hear you screaming.”

“Coen!” I scolded, and searched wildly to make sure no one could hear us.

“You begged me to stay with you, and last night was the best. Night. Of my damn life. You and I both agreed Parker seeing me in the morning was too soon. And I’ve only been gone from you for four hours. So, tell me. What am I missing?”

“I just realized that all of this was too much. Okay? It’s all going too fast for me, and I’m not ready for this. I never wanted a relationship; or have you already forgotten that? I don’t want you in our life, Coen.”

Coen’s body went rigid, and his mouth slowly opened as he stared at me. “Bullshit,” he breathed.

I felt sick. But I needed to do this now. I needed to do this before we got more attached and he ran, and I had no doubt, especially if he heard Parker calling him “Dad”, he would run. “I’m sorry, Coen.”

He shook his head back and forth as he continued to watch me. Glancing over at Parker, his forehead pinched together and a sadness fell over his features before they hardened and he looked back at me. “Hope I was a good distraction for you, Reagan.”

A huff of air blew past my lips. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, but I couldn’t stop him from leaving. This needs to be done. The sooner the better. You’re doing the right thing for Parker.

Without another word, Coen turned and started running back toward his condo, and my chest ached. How had this man fallen into our lives, and so quickly embedded himself in my son’s and my heart? Looking back at Parker, I continued to chant to myself that I’d done the right thing, but nothing about what had just happened, or the loss I currently felt, felt like the right thing.

“KEEGAN, PLEASE BE home,” I whispered to myself as I knocked on the door of his apartment a few hours later.

“Where are we?”

Glancing down at Parker, I tried to smile and keep my tone light as I said, “Uncle Keegan’s new apartment.”

“All right! I get to show him how I’m just like Coen now!” he said excitedly, and looked down at his arm, and I bit down on my cheek to stop the agonized cry from leaving me.