Mr. Klein is Fine by Meghan Quinn

Author:Meghan Quinn
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter Four

LINDSAY

I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. After going to the bathroom, I clean up and then stare into the mirror.

My hair is a mess.

There is a tint of beard burn across my chest and face.

I have a dazed look in my eyes.

And I know the girl in the reflection has been thoroughly fucked, the only way Gunner Klein knows how to fuck her.

And of course, Dylan just happens to call after I finish. I don’t think my heart has ever raced so much and I don’t know why, because it’s not like Gunner knows.

Off to the side of the bathroom counter is one of Gunner’s shirts, folded neatly. I throw it over my head, feeling all kinds of self-conscious right now. I know damn well I shouldn’t have had sex with Gunner, especially given what I need to tell him, but I couldn’t resist. Not when he looked at me with those pleading eyes, desperation laced in his pupils.

I wouldn’t have been able to walk away even if I truly wanted to.

One more deep breath, one more glance in the mirror . . .

I open the bathroom door only to come face to face with an angry Gunner. He’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts, his arms are crossed over his impressive chest, and there is a heavy furrow in his brow that I’ve never seen before, not even when he would give up a hit on the mound in his pro ball days.

Something happened.

“Gunner, what’s—”

“Are you in a relationship?”

“What?” I ask, completely confused. Where would he get that from?

“Because you fucking told me I was the last man inside of you.”

“You . . . you were,” I say, feeling my voice start to waiver.

“Then why the fuck are you hiding away in the bathroom, calling someone ‘baby’?”

“You heard that?”

“Yeah, I fucking heard it, Lindsay,” he says, his southern accent growing stronger with his anger. “What the fuck?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

I stand there, shifting on my feet, nerves crawling up the back of my neck as I twist my phone in my hands. My mouth goes dry, the confession stuck in my throat.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” he says, with a shake of his head. Dismissing me with his hand, he says, “Let yourself out.” He walks over to the bed where he takes a seat, his corded back to mine.

My fight or flight kicks in, the need to run starting to rev up my body, but my brain takes over and before I can run off, I quickly shout, “It was my son.”

Gunner’s head, which was pressed into his hand, pops up and he looks over his shoulder, his brow creased. “You have a son?”

Oh God.

I’m doing this.

I’m really going to do this.

At a teacher’s conference, naked except for a shirt draped over my body, right after the best sex I’ve ever had.

I consider just leaving it at that, but then Dylan’s pleading eyes flash through my mind, wanting to know who his father is.

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