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“Have you slept with a Mila?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes at me.

  Mason runs his eyes up and down her body. “Not yet.”

  The nurse snorts and throws her head back in mock laughter. “And you won’t, ever.”

  “Perfect! I’ll name her Mila!”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mason warns, continuing to eye-fuck the damn nurse. “I can promise you, one day she will most definitely be under me.”

  The nurse’s eyes widen, her brows shooting up, and if Mason wasn’t holding the newborn, I can almost guarantee he would be a dead man. “And I can promise you, I will never be under him.” She emphasizes the word under. I cover my mouth and fake cough to hide my laughter because really, she has no idea she’s only making this more fun for Mason. And I must admit, in the last several years we’ve lived together, back in Vegas and now here, he usually gets whatever woman he wants.

  “Just to be on the safe side,” I say, “do you have a middle name?”

  “Yes, but I am telling you, your friend here”—She gives Mason a harsh glare—“is never going to sleep with me.”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?” Mason scoffs and Mila groans.

  “You are safe naming your daughter Mila. Although, it might be awkward to name her after the woman who murdered your friend.” Her voice raises and her cheeks go pink, and I have to wonder if the tension she’s feeling is pissed off or sexual. They say there’s a thin line between love and hate…well in this case, it would be lust and hate.

  “I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m just thinking it would be better to be on the safe side,” I admit.

  Mason nods in agreement as he lifts my daughter up and gently pats her back to burp her.

  “Fine! My middle name is Alexandria.”

  I look to Mason and he says, “Nope! You’re good.”

  “Great! Alexandria, it is,” I announce, happy my little girl has a name.

  Mila shakes her head and takes my daughter from Mason. Once she’s placed her in the bassinet, she says, “I’m afraid to ask if you’re giving her a middle name.”

  Fuck! “You know what, I think Alexandria is long enough to cover both.”

  Mason agrees and Mila hands me the paperwork. “Now that you have her name, fill this out, so you can bring her home.”

  I grab the pen and write down under name: Alexandria Scott

  I look toward my now sleeping daughter, and I vow, in this moment, to be the best goddamned father and mother this little girl could ever ask for.

  One

  Tristan

  Present day…

  I wake up and scrub my eyes then look to the clock. 7:15 a.m. Lexi should be awake by now. It’s possible she’s so exhausted from her birthday weekend with our family and friends she’s still sleeping, but it would be a first. My parents are still in town at a hotel downtown. My mom wanted to stay a few extra days to spend time with us and Morgan—my younger sister, who is going to school here and living in an apartment near campus. Emma is going to school in Las Vegas, so she flew home last night not wanting to miss any of her classes. She’s majoring in education, and planning to become a math teacher.

  Throwing my sheets off me, I take a quick piss before I head out to search for my five-year-old daughter. Holy shit! I can’t believe I have a five-year-old. Where the hell did the time go?

  I walk down the hallway of our condo, passing Mason’s closed door and head straight to Lexi’s room. Her room is empty and so is her bathroom. I hear voices coming from the living room or maybe the kitchen. Maybe Mason is up or my parents came over?

  “Are you here for my Uncle Mason?” I hear Lexi ask.

  “I am,” a woman replies.

  “Did you go fishing with him last night?”

  I turn the corner to see Lexi and a barely dressed woman sitting at the kitchen table. Lexi is coloring a picture and the woman is drinking a cup of coffee. Damn it Mason! I rush back to Mason’s room and swing the door open without knocking.

  “Get up! Your damn fish is in my kitchen with Lexi.”

  He looks around groggily, then bolts out of his bed, throwing his sweats on and hauling ass out the door toward the kitchen. I follow behind him, listening to Lexi and the woman still conversing.

  “Uncle Mason says he likes to go fishing a lot.” I can hear the disgust in Lexi’s voice.

  “I’ve never been fishing,” Mason’s fish says.

  “Me neither. I think fishing is gross! It’s good that he catches them and then lets them go back into the water. I don’t want a fishy to die.”

  I stifle my laugh as Mason groans. One day when Lexi was younger, Mason used the term fish when referring to one of his many conquests. Looks like it’s about to bite him in the ass.

  “Lexi girl,” Mason says, trying to end the conversation. “What are you drawing here?”

  “A fish!” Lexi lifts the paper up and sure enough, there is a huge multicolored fish covering most of her paper, complete with a dark blue ocean and a bright yellow sun. “Did you catch a bunch of fish last night when you went fishing?”

  “Umm…” Mason looks from Lexi to his one-night-stand. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Good! Fishing is so gross.” Lexi scrunches her nose up in disgust. Once, at the beach she saw a real fish firsthand. One touch of its slimy body and Lexi wanted nothing to do with fish or fishing.

  “Britney, I need to get going. Why don’t you go back to my room and get your stuff?” He nods his head toward the hallway and the woman glares at him. I’m almost positive she’s caught on to the fake fishing scenario. She huffs, and taking my coffee mug with her, goes to his room.

  “Mason, kitchen,” I demand.

  Once we are far enough away so Lexi can’t hear, I say, “Things are going to have to change. The whole fishing term was fine when Lexi was little, but now she’s old enough to ask questions. If you want to get your own place, I—”

  Mason cuts me off. “No, don’t even say that shit. You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought she had left. I didn’t realize she was still hanging around. From now on, if Lexi is home, I’ll go back to their place or make sure they’re gone the same night. I would never want her waking up to different women here.”

  “Thanks, man. But you know if you ever want to get your own place, I would understand. I imagine Lexi and I are cramping your style.”

  “Tristan, we’ve been living together for the last six years. While my game of catch and release is strong, no woman is coming before our friendship or Lexi. I’ll fish elsewhere.” He winks jokingly.

  “You are such a pig!” We both turn to see Britney—I think that’s her name—with her hands on her hips. “Really? Catch and release?”

  Before Mason can respond, Lexi pops her head in the kitchen. “Yeah! You catch the fish and then throw it back in the water so the poor fishy doesn’t die!”

  Britney huffs, slamming the coffee mug down, and storms out of the front door, slamming it behind her. Lexi looks completely confused. “Uncle Mason, I don’t think she likes fishing, just like me.” She shakes her head back and forth and then goes back to the table to continue her drawing.

  “No more calling women fish,” I say, pointing at him so he knows I’m serious. “And no more women around Lexi.”

  “You got it,” Mason agrees. He might be the biggest manwhore I know, but for the last six years—since even before Lexi was born—he has proven to be a wonderful friend to me, and since the day she was born, he has taken his role as Godfather to Lexi seriously. Mason never talks about his past but something tells me his commitment issues go deep.

  And really, who am I to judge? I do plenty of fishing myself, just in other women’s oceans. There’s no way I’m bringing anyone back here for my daughter to see. The last thing I need is Lexi getting attached to a woman who won’t be around for the long haul.

  We both go back into the dining room to find Lexi coloring. “Here you go, Uncle Mason!” She hands him a colored picture and he la
ughs as he turns the paper around so I can see. It’s a picture of a bright pink pig.

  Mason takes off for the gym, and Lexi and I meet my parents for breakfast. We spend the day at their hotel lounging by the pool while Lexi and Morgan swim. Mason ends up joining us for dinner at the restaurant in the hotel.

  “When do you guys leave?” Mason asks, shoving a bite of steak into his mouth.

  “Tuesday afternoon,” my mom answers him. “We wanted a couple extra days with our kids and granddaughter without everyone here.” She smiles warmly at Lexi and gives her a kiss on her forehead. Lexi pays her no attention, completely caught up in whatever picture she’s coloring.

  “How would you guys feel about watching Lexi tonight?” Mason asks.

  “For what?” I question.

  “We would love to!” my mom gushes.

  “You, me, and the guys from the gym. We’re going out tonight. It’s been too long since you”—he looks at Lexi—“went fishing.”

  Lexi looks up. “Eww! Daddy! Don’t go fishing!”

  Kaden laughs and my mom shakes her head.

  “We agreed no more fishing,” I remind Mason.

  “I know but I don’t have another way of saying what I need to say.” He shrugs.

  Morgan looks up from her phone, finally catching on. “Oh my God! Mason, you are such a pig!”

  Lexi laughs. “That’s what that woman called you this morning! I drew the best pig, Auntie Morgan! Want me to draw another one?”

  We all laugh.

  We get to the club and it’s one we’ve been to several times. Plush. Mason and several of our friends are members. I’m here as a guest, but because I’ve filled out the paperwork and had the background check done, I’m able to go anywhere in the club when I come with Mason. We walk in and on the first floor it looks like a typical dance club. The walls and floors are matted black. To the left is a wall-to-wall bar with mirror shelving along the back holding all the liquor bottles. A row of silver and black stools run along the bar while several tables surround the outside area of the room. In the four corners of the club, there are silver cages elevated in the air. Each of them containing a man and a woman dancing to the music—grinding against one another. The men are wearing silver briefs and the women are topless, only wearing silver cheeky shorts, which reveal more than they cover.

  “Second floor,” Mason yells over the music as I follow him over to the grand staircase, which is being blocked by a black velvet rope and a bouncer. Mason hands the guy our cards to scan and he lets us through.

  The second floor is VIP only. It’s all black and silver and pretty much identical to the first floor with only a couple of differences. First, it’s only one-fourth the size. The other difference is, along one of the walls where there are tables downstairs, there are doors.

  We arrive to the third door and the bouncer scans our cards once again before letting us through. Already sitting inside the private room on the circular black and silver sofas are our friends: Brent, Troy, Jake, and Tommy. Brent and Troy stand up to greet us before sitting back down. The flat screen television is on in the corner and turned to the Monday night football game. In the center of the room, there are a couple of topless women on the stage dancing together. There are two more women straddling Jake and Tommy. They’re dancing to the music—the one straddling Tommy is topless. His attention shifting back and forth from the woman to the game.

  Mason and I have a seat, and a woman comes over to take our order. The first thing I notice about this woman is she’s wearing more clothing than the others. While her shorts are still tiny, they actually cover her entire ass. Her top is more of an actual top and less of a bra, and it’s not see-through like the other women’s clothes are. I can see the swell of her breasts but she still leaves plenty to the imagination.

  Her name tag reads Charlie. “What can I get you, gentlemen?” Her voice is soft, almost shy, and when she looks down at us, her seafoam green eyes don’t make eye contact. They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Bright green on the inside with a pinch of blue and brown swirled on the outside—they’re absolutely breathtaking. Around the outside of her eyes is matching green makeup making them pop even more.

  Mason pays her no mind, ordering a beer and watching the screen for an updated score on the game, but when she turns back to me, I forget what I’m supposed to be ordering. Her hair is up in a tight ponytail. It’s light brown with hints of red shining through from the spotlights. Her skin is naturally tanned, unlike the fake tan you usually see on women in LA.

  “Tristan! Order your fucking drink!” Mason laughs.

  “Sorry, I’ll have a Sam Adams Octoberfest, if you have it.” She nods and walks out of the room, the door closing behind her.

  We spend the next few hours drinking, watching the game, and shooting the shit. Mason has one of the women give me a lap dance, but my eyes can’t seem to leave Charlie the entire time. There’s just something about her…She leaves the room and I make the decision to ask for her number the next time she comes back in, only she never does. We stay for another hour, but Charlie never returns. It’s probably for the best. Only I would fall for a damn stripper. First Bella, then Gina, now my eyes are on a damn stripper. And the winner of the worst judge of character goes to…me!

  Okay, fine. Maybe that’s not fair to say since Bella is a great person, but fuck if I’m not a magnet for the wrong damn woman.

  We leave close to three in the morning, and a few short hours later, my alarm is going off, letting me know I need to get my ass up to meet my parents, Morgan, and Lexi for breakfast before they leave back to Las Vegas. I hear Mason’s shower running and about twenty minutes later we’re on our way back to the hotel.

  My dad sends me a text letting me know they’re at the restaurant so we go straight there. After ordering a cup of coffee and an omelet, I ask Lexi how her night was. She goes on and on about my parents taking her for dessert, buying her more art stuff, and about Morgan taking her night swimming.

  “How was your night?” my mom asks.

  “Fine,” I reply, not giving anything away.

  “Fine? Your son spent the night drooling over one of the waitresses. Of course, he didn’t ask for her number. He’s a puss—” Mason cuts himself off remembering Lexi’s here, but still punches me in the arm.

  “Which is for the best,” I add. “The last thing I need is to bring a strip—” I cut myself off. “Dancer into my life.”

  My dad spits out his drink and my mom glares at me.

  “I want to dance!” Lexi announces.

  “Morgan, can you take Lexi to go see the aquarium for a few minutes?” my mom suggests. “I need to speak to your brother.”

  Morgan grabs Lexi’s hand and takes off toward the large indoor aquarium that’s filled with all types of different colored fish.

  “What? I’m adult enough to recognize I suck at picking out women. The first woman I liked was in love with another man. The second woman was a drug addict who left her daughter. And after several one-night-stands the last few years, it doesn’t surprise me the one woman who catches my attention…dances for a living.”

  I notice my dad shaking his head but I don’t catch on quick enough to stop what I’m saying.

  “You’re old enough now that I’m going to tell you something,” my mom says, her voice shaky. “When you were little I got in over my head. The details aren’t important but I owed some dangerous people a lot of money.” I look at my dad, his arm coming around my mom’s shoulders in support. “At the time, I was a teacher, and for reasons that don’t matter now, I lost my job. I ended up working as a stripper.”

  “What?” I yell louder than intended at the same time Mason says, “Nice!” My dad reaches over and smacks Mason across the back of his head.

  “Yes, I was a stripper. At two different clubs. One of which Caleb owned.” She tries to keep her head held high but I can hear the vulnerability in her voice, the shame seeping through her words at having to admit
something so personal to her son. I knew once upon a time, my parents’ friend Caleb—Marco’s dad, who’s also a retired fighter my dad used to train—briefly owned a club. I remember them all discussing it when I was younger. What I didn’t know was that it was a strip club or that my mom worked there.

  “First off,” my dad says to my mom. “Don’t you ever feel shame for what you did! I might’ve hated it, but I respect the hell out of you for what you did.” Then he turns his head toward me. “Your mom would’ve done anything to make sure you had a roof over your head and food in your stomach. She didn’t think twice about taking her clothes off to make sure you were taken care of. So, before you judge a woman, think about that. You don’t know this woman’s situation, and just because you have bad luck with women doesn’t mean every woman is going to have something wrong with her. Not every woman will be a druggie. Not every woman will choose another man over you, and not every stripper is a bad person.”

  Well fuck, now I feel like a judgmental asshole. I had no clue what my mom went through when I was younger. I knew my deadbeat biological father left when I was little. She met Kaden and once they were married, he adopted me. He’s been the only dad I’ve known my entire life.

  “Plus, those women aren’t even strippers,” Mason adds. “They’re just topless dancers.” He shrugs, earning himself another smack to his head by Kaden.

  Two

  Tristan

  “What do you mean the website is down?” I glide my fingers across the trackpad on my laptop to wake the screen up then type in the web address for the gym I own here in Los Angeles: Scott UFC Gym. Sure enough, the damn site is down.

  “Okay, let me get back to you.” I hang up my cell phone and throw it down onto the desk, taking a minute to calm down. I knew the site was due to renew. Instead of trusting someone else, I should’ve handled it myself. After Stacy, my last web designer, quit to become a stay-at-home mom, she recommended a friend of hers. I thought for sure I could trust her recommendation.