I woke up with a feeling of contentment that I hadn’t known in as long as I could remember. And that was before I glanced over and saw the beautiful girl curled up at my side.

Memories of the night before came back to me in that scattered way they often did after a night of fun and drinking, and a smile spread across my face as I thought back over my date with Heather.

She was still sleeping, and I took the chance to drink in how gorgeous she was. Her long, strawberry-blond hair draped across my chest, her adorable face of a pert, button nose and full, sensual lips rested on me, a slight smile playing on her features. I wondered if, even in her sleep, she was as happy as I was.

And her body was something else. Heather’s figure was about as perfect as they came. One of her shapely legs rested across my waist, her full, round breasts were like magnets for the eyes. She was stunning, which made her shyness even more noteworthy—a girl as beautiful as she should feel like she could take over the world.

After a few moments of me admiring her, Heather’s eyes opened slowly, her sparkling, mint-green irises even more striking in the morning light that poured in through the bedroom windows.

When she saw that I was there, her slight smile spread even further. She must’ve had the same realization that I did when I woke up. She stretched out her willowy arms and brought in a big yawn before turning her gaze back to me.

“Morning,” she said, her voice charmingly sleepy.

“Morning,” I said right back to her.

I couldn’t help myself. I curled my arm around her and brought her in for a slow, deep kiss. She tasted just as heavenly as she did last night. When I took my lips from hers, she gave me a gorgeous, broad smile.

“Last night was fun,” she said.

“That it was,” I said. “Regretting not going to your party?”

“Not even a little,” she said, rolling over and grabbing her phone from the nightstand, glancing briefly at the screen. “I sent a text to my friend after we left the liquor store, saying that I couldn’t make it,” she said, running her hand through her thick hair. “But no text back. They must have been too busy partying to miss me, I guess.”

She clicked off her screen and tossed the phone onto the bed before laying her head back on my chest.

“So,” I said, my hand moving slowly over the soft curves of her hips. “What does Saturday have in store for you?”

A strange look crossed her face, and she glanced away for a brief moment.

“Um, busy this afternoon,” she said. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”

I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t being entirely truthful with me; that there were some details she was leaving out.

Nothing wrong with that. As much as I liked Heather, we’d only known each other for a little while. She was under no obligation to tell me everything about her life.

“Then we have the morning together,” I said.

“That we do,” she said with a smile, her finger tracing the outline of my chest.

“And I’ve got some ideas how we can spend it.”

“Something tells me we’re thinking the same thing,” she said.

I pulled her in for another long, slow kiss. My member twitched to life below, but as it did, a low growl rumbled from my stomach.

Heather took her lips from mine and raised her eyebrows.

“Someone’s ready for breakfast,” she said.

I was hungry—no doubt about that.

“How about this,” I said. “Since you were nice enough to do the hosting, let me make breakfast. I’m not the most amazing cook there is, but I can do a mean French omelet. Then, when we’re good and full, we can burn off some of those calories.”

“Mmm,” she said, the tip of her finger moving down my chest, over the lines of my abs. “I can’t think of a better way to start the day.”

“Then let’s get to it,” I said.

Before I could make a single move, however, a look of something like panic flashed on Heather’s face.

“Hold on,” she said. “Let me, um, make sure the place doesn’t look like crap.”

“Didn’t you already clean it last night?” I asked.

“Yeah, but it’s daytime now—I might’ve missed some stuff.”

I was about to tell her not to worry about it, but before I got a chance, Heather had thrown on a robe and rushed out of the bedroom, the door closing behind her.

That was weird. Sure, I’d been over to enough girls’ places to know that women could be self-conscious about their apartments, but there was something more to the way Heather was behaving. It was almost as though there was something that she was hiding, something she didn’t want me to see.

And as much as I wanted to give her privacy, I couldn’t help but be curious. I scanned the bedroom, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing caught my eye. It seemed like the average apartment of a busy girl in her late twenties, a pile of clean, unfolded clothes and all.

Five minutes later, she opened the door and stuck her head in.

“Okay,” she said. “Come on out.”

Her head disappeared, and I couldn’t help but smirk. Something strange was up, but I did my best to put it out of my head.

I rolled off the bed and threw on my clothes. I hated to be dressed with a girl like Heather around, but I figured I’d be back out of them soon enough.

I stepped out into the hallway, the smell of brewing coffee greeting me. The hallway turned to the living room, and I took a quick glance around. It was a little messy, but otherwise a very standard, small-but-cozy Brooklyn apartment. The living room was bright and sunny, the window looking out over the bustling street outside. Heather was seated at a small kitchen table, a pair of empty coffee mugs in front of her.

“Thanks for waiting,” she said. “I just haven’t had a chance to clean in a while.”

“Trust me,” I said. “I’ve seen much worse.”

I realized as soon as I said the words that this wasn’t the best thing to say—it suggested that Heather was one girl among many. Sure, I’d done the one-night stand thing plenty of times, but it was bad form to say it like that.

Besides, there was something about Heather, something that made me think she might be more than a one-night stand. I couldn’t put my finger on why, exactly, but I already knew I wanted to see her again. And again and again.

“Okay,” I said, taking a look over her small kitchen. “Ready for some slightly better-than-decent eggs?”

She smiled. “Well, when you sell them like that,” she said.

I stepped over to the fridge and pulled it open. I grabbed some eggs, a small package of bacon, and then went for the milk.

But when I took the milk, I noticed a small can of something strange, an odd-looking can with a plastic covering on it. My eyes lingered on it as I titled my head to get a look at the label.

“Having trouble finding something?” asked Heather.

“Just looking for the butter,” I said, coming up with a quick save.

“It’s on the door shelf.”

I couldn’t resist. I reached in and turned the can to see what the label was. And when I did, my eyes went wide.

Baby formula.

It hit me. That was it. That was why she was being so strange about her place, and why she wanted to make sure she tidied up before I came in—she was hiding any sign that she had a kid.

I took the ingredients out of the fridge, all of it coming together in my mind. Now it made sense why a girl like her hadn’t gone out in so long—she was busy with a kid.

Panic took hold of my gut as I set the ingredients on the counter. All I could think about was getting away. I liked Heather a lot, but being with a single mother was…too much for me to handle. I needed to make a quick break before I got even a moment more involved with her.

So, I shot my hand to my pocket, pretending like I was getting a text. I slipped my phone out and made a surprised expression.

“Shit,” I said, looking over the blank screen.

“What is it?” asked Heather.

“I just got a text from one of my business partners,” I lied. “One of my extra high-maintenance clients came into town without notice and wants me to show them around the city.”

“Oh, really?” asked Heather. “Does that mean…”

“Yeah,” I said, putting my phone back into my pocket. “I need to get going. Sorry to do this, but this is a major client and he’s kind of a pain in the ass.”

A look that was unmistakably disappointment appeared on her face.

“No, that’s fine,” she said. “I get it. But you don’t even have time for coffee?”

I shook my head. “Sorry. He’s with my partner right now.”

“Sure, sure,” she said, nodding and looking away.

I rushed to the bedroom for the rest of my clothes and on the way there, I stopped in front of the door that Heather had hurriedly shut last night. Out of sight, my curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the door and peeked inside.

Sure enough, it was a small, brightly colored room with a crib in the center. Heather was a mom, all right, and a recent one at that.

I shut the door carefully before rushing to the bedroom to put on my shoes and get the rest of my things. Heather was still seated at the table when I came back in, that same look of disappointment on her face.

I felt bad, but I knew what I had to do.

“Okay,” I said. “I better be going.”

I wasn’t sure what to do. Leaving without making some tentative plans seemed rude as hell, but at the same time, I didn’t want to give her the wrong impression.

“I’ll...see you around,” I said, leaning in and giving her a quick peck on the forehead before starting toward the door.

“Yeah. See you around,” she said. Her tone made it clear that she knew I wasn’t going to be seeing her around anytime soon.

Closing the front door behind me, I rushed down the stairs and out of her apartment building, making a hurried walk down the street to a corner coffee shop. As soon as I was inside, I ordered a drink and thought the matter over as the barista prepared it.

What I’d done wasn’t the most honorable thing in the world, sure. But what else could I do? Heather was a single mom, which meant that she was undoubtedly looking for something more serious than a one-night stand. And I had enough going on with my own life, too much to even have a girlfriend, let alone someone else’s kid to worry about.

No, I did the right thing. It wasn’t easy, and Heather was probably going to be hurt, but it had to be done. And the quicker, the better—no leading her on.

The barista called out my name and I took my drink. But as I sat down, I realized my heart was pounding in my chest. And there was something more—touching my fingertips to my forehead, I realized that I was sweating.

What on earth was going on with me?