I watch Caden as he watches Corey walk across the weight room. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I say, peeling myself away from him.

“Do what?” he asks innocently.

“Rescue me, or whatever that was. I can handle Corey and every other guy who asks me out.”

“Just how many guys are asking you out, Murph?”

I shrug.

He gives me a look of concern. “Seriously, how many?”

“He’s the third one this week,” I say.

“Three? In one week?” His hand comes up to run through his hair. “What did you tell them?”

“That I wasn’t interested.”

“Good. Keep telling them that,” he says with a possessive stare. He checks the clock on the wall. “I have to go. I have a thing.”

I stiffen. He has a thing? My heart lodges in my throat.

He sees my reaction and his hand comes up to scrub across the stubble on his jaw. “Shit, Murph. That’s not what I meant. I’m meeting someone. My father actually.”

My deep sigh is audible and I detect the hint of a smile on his face when he sees how relieved I am.

He leans close. “Believe me, you are the only one I want to have a thing with.”

While I’m inhaling his musky scent, it dawns on me what he said. “I’m so glad you decided to meet with your dad. I hope it goes well.”

“Do you have any words of advice for a guy who’s about to meet the father he never knew?”

I stare at his gorgeous face, wondering if he got his looks from his father. “We don’t get to choose our family, Caden. And we will only ever have one mother and one father. If this guy can’t be your dad, nobody else can. I think you should be open-minded. Give him a chance. We’ve all made mistakes in our lives. We shouldn’t be defined by them.”

He nods. “Thanks, Slugger.”

I laugh at the Murphy Brown reference.

He leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. A sexy, lingering cheek-kiss that warns all the other guys to stay away.

And then, just like how Caden watched Corey walk away, I follow Caden’s every step to the locker room, appreciating how his prominent calf muscles flex with each long stride. How the strong lines of his back ripple under his tight shirt when he tosses his towel into the bin. How he looks over his shoulder at me to catch me staring.

When he rounds the corner, I slump over and knock my forehead on the counter a few times, berating myself for becoming a love-sick puppy.

“Oh, my God, are you Caden Kessler’s girlfriend?”

I look up to see two patrons standing near the counter. The women are wearing workout clothes that look like they were purchased from a children’s clothing store. Their breasts almost spill over the too-tight sports bras, and the boy shorts they’re wearing barely cover their entire pubic region. These girls are obviously not here to work out.

“Uh, no,” I say.

“But you want to be,” the taller one declares.

“Is there anything I can help you ladies with?”

“Besides getting us his phone number?” the short one says, giggling.

I don’t bother to answer.

“No, really,” she says. “Like, can you get it for us? I’m sure you have it on your computer somewhere. Oh, do you have his address, too?”

“Member records are private,” I tell them.

“Maybe we could come to an agreement,” she says. “I’ll pay you. How much is it worth?”

My jaw drops. “I don’t care how much you offer me, I’m not giving you his number.”

“Everyone has a price,” the tall one says, eyeing me up and down. “Surely a lowly desk clerk such as yourself could use an extra few hundred bucks.”

“You would pay a few hundred dollars for his phone number?” I ask, both surprised and appalled.

The shorter one looks excited. “Sure. How about we make it three?”

“Oh, my God. No!” I grab some papers off the counter and turn around.

“Bitch,” one of them says. “Like she has a chance with him.”

They walk away laughing.

Chapter Thirty-one

Caden

I finish the rest of my drink and order another. Every time the damn bells jingle when someone comes into the bar, I crane my neck and look to see if it’s him. I had Ethan track down my dad’s phone number and set up this meeting.

I’m not even sure what I’m going to say to him. Part of me wants to just meet him and then tell him to get lost. Tell him he has no right to be in Lexi’s or my life. But the other part of me, the part that Murphy appealed to—that part wants something I’ve never had. A father.

The waitress puts another Jack and Coke in front of me. I thought I might need something a little stronger than my regular beer for this monumental meeting. Plus, liquor mellows me out. I don’t want to get riled up and end up causing a scene. When she steps away, I see him. He’s looking around the bar at every patron until his eyes meet mine.

He freezes. I freeze. We stare.

He walks over with a cautious smile on his face, nodding his head along the way. He stops and stands at the end of the booth. “Caden, thank you for meeting me.”

He holds out his hand but I can’t shake it. He left us. He just up and left the three of us and my mom had to work two jobs to feed and clothe us. That is not the kind of man whose hand I want to shake.

His smile falls. “Maybe we can work up to that,” he says.

I nod to the other side of the booth. “Have a seat, Shane.”

His surprised eyes snap to mine. He sits and says, “Maybe we can work up to that, too.”

“To what?”

“You calling me Dad.”

I snort an incredulous breath out my nose. “Don’t count on it.”

“Listen, Caden. I know I was a terrible father. I know I have a lot to make up for. You asking for this meeting is one of the best things that’s happened to me. I’ve wanted to reach out to you for years. Especially when your mom died. But a few weeks ago, when you pushed me against that wall, I thought that was it. I thought there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d ever give me another look. And then your friend called me. And now here we are.”

“Wait. You know my mom died?”

He nods. “I’ve been keeping tabs on you for years.”

“Alexa?” I ask, having to keep my voice low because what I really want to do is crawl over the table and strangle him for stalking my sister.

“It about killed me when she went missing a few years back.”

“Then why now?” I ask. “Why did you come to New York and follow me around?”

He pulls out his wallet and removes a picture, sliding it across the table. It’s a picture of me when I was younger. I don’t remember it and I have no idea how in the hell he got it.

“What can I get you?” the waitress asks him.

“Club soda with lime, please.”

The waitress walks away and he looks around the bar and laughs. “Been a while since I’ve been in a bar. Good to see they haven’t changed much.”

I ignore his statement and pick up the picture. “Where did you get this? Did my mother send it to you?”

“Shannon? No, she never sent me anything. It’s not a picture of—”

“Well why the hell would she send you anything?” I cut him off. “You left her. You left us.”

“No, son. I didn’t.”

I grit my teeth. “Do not call me son.” I take a drink and slam my glass back down on the table. “And what the hell do you mean you didn’t?”

“Caden, your mother threw me out. With good reason, I might add. I was a drug addict. Cocaine. And my addiction drove us right to the poor house. Came home one night and she had thrown all my belongings on the front porch. Said never to contact her again. I thought about fighting her, because damn, I loved you kids, but I knew no judge would give custody to an addict. It killed me, Caden—the thought of not seeing you and your sister. So, I did everything I could to make some money so I could be a good dad to you and come back and fight for you one day.” He shakes his head, clearly disgusted with himself. “But I did a lot of stupid things back then. Cocaine had a tight grip on me and I messed up. I couldn’t even steal cars without letting the drugs get the best of me. I ended up doing a few years in prison.”

“Yeah, I saw your mug shot. How proud you must be.”

“I’m not proud of anything, son—uh, Caden. The only damn thing I’ve done right in my life is have three great kids. Not that I have anything to do with it, I credit their mothers for everything.”

Now he has my attention. “Three? You have three kids?”

He puts a finger on the picture and pushes it back to me. “This is your half-brother, Scott.”

I pick up the picture and stare. He’s a goddamn carbon copy of me. “How old is he?”

“Twelve. And he’s the reason I’m here. He’s had a big growth spurt this past year. He’s grown up fast. Grown up to look just like his older brother. And don’t think it’s gone unnoticed. People are starting to tell him how much he looks like the New York Nighthawks’ star catcher. The person he shares a last name with. We never told him the truth about him being your brother. But when you became famous—well it’s been harder and harder to convince people you aren’t related. And then when my wife got sick …”

“You re-married?”

A sad smile crosses his face. “Dawn is the best thing that ever happened to me. She helped me get right after my release from prison.” He looks down at the picture of Scott and frowns. “She died two years ago. Cancer. Scott took it hard, as you can imagine a ten-year-old would. He fell into depression. Doctors couldn’t help him. Medication didn’t work either. So six months ago, I took a chance. I took a chance and told him about you and Alexa.”