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“The house.”
A deep sigh from Kev. I think I’m supposed to be happy. Maybe more for Kev accomplishing his job than for myself, but I’m failing at both. He slows his roll.
“The Puerto Vallarta property. You asked me to get it for you. Bro—you got it.”
I look through the patio doors. Paul is in the pool, one arm hooked over the edge, head tipped back, water shining on his throat.
“What changed?”
“Evidence.” Kev’s voice gets quicker again. “I had a long talk with your mom. Who, by the way, is way less intimidating after the first hour. Anyway—I explained what this meant to you, and that I needed something stronger if we were going to make the known kid clause mean anything. And, and—well, she’s not easy, dude—but she gave me what we needed!”
My stomach drops.
“What did she give you?”
“Pictures of you with your dad. You were little, but it’s definitely you. I guess they maintained contact for a few years. Anyway, I sent it over—not expecting anything, because Paul’s lawyer is a dick—but just, like, not even an hour ago…”
Pictures. Little.
He saw me. He met me. Held me?
“So Paul just backed off.”
“His lawyer’s backing off,” Kev says. “I would assume Paul agreed to it.”
A bad thought opens inside me.
I say, “I’ll call you back,” and hang up before Kev can yell at me in capital letters.
I start moving before I know what I’m going to say.
My shirt comes off as I cross the living room. It lands on the couch. My shorts hit the floor beside Paul’s, denim against linen equally useless here.
I step onto the patio as naked as he is, which is somehow the least awkward part of the conversation I’m about to start.
Paul watches me from the pool. Water shines on his shoulders. His hair is slicked back. He looks guilty, beautiful, and way too calm.
“You knew,” I say. “You know.”
He grips the pool edge. “Yes.”
Too simple.
My jaw tightens. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I was going to.”
I laugh once. “Great. That fixes it.”
He closes his eyes.
The anger should feel good. It would feel good if I knew exactly why I was angry, and with who, and that I’m right to feel this way.
“Did you give it to me?”
Paul’s eyes open. “No.”
“Don’t do that.”
