Mason
I didn’t feel right not picking her up and driving her to the restaurant like a gentleman. Hell, Bren could be the mother of my unborn child. But then, of course, nothing about this whole situation felt right—not my clothes, not the way it happened, and certainly not the way it might end up. But then, well, maybe it really was fate.
I glanced at my phone, knowing it wouldn’t tell me anything my internal clock hadn’t told me already.
Bren was late. Which left me to sit here, wondering if I’d been stood up.
When I’d called her earlier today, she’d sounded willing enough—no doubt she wanted to plan out what would happen if the results came back the way she expected them to…the way we both expected them to.
But then, on some level, I thought we both already knew the answers. I wou
