“What’s it you do there?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Quinn drew in another lungful of smoke and exhaled it slowly. It hung in the air like a ghost before fading away. “Point is, I was here a while after you’d already gone. And me and Charlie were both pretty fucked up, I guess. We got drunk one night, and, well, it happened. Only once, but I guess once is all it takes, right? So now it turns out I’m a dad.”
“You’re not a dad,” Aaron said, his voice hardening at the word. “You’re a sperm donor. When did you get back into town?”
“Two days ago.” Quinn huffed out a breath. “This kid is nine, Aaron. He’s like his own little person, and I never even suspected he existed. I can’t even wrap my head around it.”
“There’s a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen,” Aaron said.
Quinn shrugged. “I don’t drink.”
Aaron let out a burst of laughter. “Since when?”
Quinn held his gaze. “Since I got out of rehab a couple of weeks ago.”