“Faith.”

I call to her standing in the middle of LAX. She’s with Black, and I hate that I’ve waited this long to talk to her. I didn’t really expect her to leave so quickly. I thought she would stay here and visit with Hope. They’ve moved here permanently while Aden works on the new film he’s directing. When I showed up this morning Hope chewed my ass out. It was deserved, I know, so I took it without comment. I had to have a few days to wrap my head around everything. I never planned on becoming a father. I really never planned on it with a woman I’m not in a relationship with. I don’t even know how to classify Faith. She’s not a girlfriend, she’s not even a friend at this point. If anything, she’s been a pain in my ass.

And really damn good in bed.

None of that screams relationship. None of that screams mother of my children. So I took a few days to get my head together. I should have known she wouldn’t wait around—she never does.

“Titan,” she says, her face closed off and the light in her eyes so dull that she looks like a different person.

“We need to talk.”

She frowns. Her gaze moves over my body, her face giving nothing away. She looks up at Black and some kind of silent communication moves between them. He nods, then cuts me a look like he’d like to have his own talk with me. I have no doubt he will at some point.

“Titan, they will be boarding the plane soon,” she says, her voice somber and without any of the sass that’s normally attached.

“Stay here.”

“I need to get back. I start a new job next week and I need to find a place to live. Living with my aunt isn’t going to cut it with a baby on the way,” she says, her pale face coloring with her words like she’s embarrassed.

I reach behind the base of my spine and rub the tension that’s there, feeling like I’m walking on eggshells. I feel like one wrong step and she’s going to completely pull away from me.

“You could stay here—with me, I mean,” I respond. I see surprise on her face for the briefest of seconds, before she taps it down.

“I don’t think that would be a wise thing to do.”

“Why not? It will give us both time to come to terms with what’s happening.”

“Come to terms? It’s not a death sentence, Titan. No one has been diagnosed with cancer or some other kind of disease. It’s a baby. My baby.”

“Our baby, Faith.”

“Only if you want it to be,” she murmurs, rubbing her stomach gently.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m just… Look, if you want to be part of this child’s life, that’s awesome. We can work together and make that happen. But, if you don’t, that’s fine too. This doesn’t have to change anything for you.”

“You’re pregnant with my child, Faith. That changes everything.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“It does. Is that what you think of me, Faith? That I’m not man enough to stand up to my mistakes?” I growl and I can’t keep the anger from bleeding through. People are starting to gather around us, listening—but, fuck… She wanted to talk here and if that’s the only play I have, I’ll take it.

“My child is not a mistake,” she growls back and she looks ferocious doing it, reminding me of a mama bear protecting her cub. I like it. I like seeing that from her, especially when talking about a child I fathered.

I fathered.

Fuck me if I’m not still getting used to that.

“It’s our child and I didn’t mean it was a mistake, not like that. Shit, woman. Cut me some slack here. You storm into a church and throw this at me. I need a little time to get my head straight.”

“You can take all the time you need, Titan. No one is pressuring you to do anything. I’m not asking for one thing from you. I just… My aunt said you needed to know what was going on and she was right. I came here to tell you and I told you.”

“So now you’re leaving?”

“I have to get back to Texas. I want my child to grow up surrounded by family. That can happen in Texas.”

“It could happen here. I’m here. Aden, Hope and Jack are here. Our child would have family.”

“Aden and Hope travel more than they stay home. Besides, I like Texas.”

“I thought you wanted to go to Arkansas,” I remind her, remembering our earlier conversations and giving a weak smile as I think about it. It seems like forever ago now.

“Things change.” The intercom announces the boarding of the next plane and Faith holds up her ticket with a sad smile on her face. “I’ve got to go, Titan. You have my address if you need in touch with me.”

“You’re leaving? Just like that?”

“Just like that,” she answers and walks away.

I let her go. There’s nothing more I can do here, but Faith hasn’t seen the last of me.

Not by a long shot.