"Relax, he's still sleeping." She stepped aside to let me in. "Coffee?"
"No time. I need to get him home."
Maya studied me over the rim of her mug. "You okay? You look—rattled."
I managed a tight smile. "Just tired. Thank you for watching him."
"Anytime." She hesitated. "Was it… him? Your boss?"
I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.
"Isla," she said gently, "you know you're going to have to tell him eventually."
"Not now, Maya. Please."
She sighed but didn't push. "Leo's in the guest room. He was an angel, as always."
I followed her down the short hallway to where my son slept, curled up in the center of Maya's pull-out couch, his dark hair tousled against the pillow. My heart constricted at the sight of him.
"Hey, baby," I whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead.
His eyes fluttered open, confusion clearing when he saw me. "Mama!" He scrambled up, tiny arms outstretched.
I scooped him up, breathing in his sweet baby smell, so different from the cologne that still clung to my skin. He giggled as I peppered his face with kisses, small hands patting my cheeks.
"Did you have fun with Auntie Maya?" I asked, settling him on my hip.
He nodded enthusiastically. "We had 'ghetti! And ice cream!"
I raised an eyebrow at Maya, who shrugged unapologetically. "What's the point of being an honorary aunt if I can't spoil him?"
Twenty minutes later, we were back in our apartment. I changed out of my dress into worn pajamas, washed my face, and tried not to think about whose hands had been on my body just hours before.
Leo followed me around the apartment, chattering about his night with Maya, his stuffed dinosaur dragging behind him. I listened with half an ear, making appropriate sounds of interest while my mind raced through scenarios and consequences.
What if Cassian recognized me? What if he already had? What if he connected the dots between our night in Miami and Leo's age?
What would he do?
"Mama, bath time?" Leo tugged at my pajama pants, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts.
I forced a smile. "Sure, buddy. Let's get you cleaned up."
I ran the water, testing the temperature with my wrist before helping Leo out of his pajamas. He splashed happily as I washed his hair, playing with the plastic boats that bobbed in the soapy water.
"Careful, Leo," I cautioned as water sloshed over the edge of the tub.
He looked up at me, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief, and my breath caught. Those eyes. Cassian's eyes.
It wasn't just the eyes. The more Leo grew, the more I saw Cassian in him—the shape of his jaw, the determined set of his mouth when he concentrated, even the way he scrunched his nose when he laughed.
Thank God he hadn't asked to see my phone last night. One look at my lock screen—Leo's face smiling up from the photo—and everything would have unraveled. How much longer before luck ran out?
But then, why would he look? Why would he even think to connect a one-night stand from three years ago with the child of his new executive assistant?
"All done, Mama," Leo announced, standing up in the tub, water streaming down his little body.
I wrapped him in a fluffy towel, dried him off, and then helped him into clean pajamas. "Story time?"
