Page 12 of The Decoy

“Okay, Brody. I promise,” I say softly.

“Fantastic,” he says, winking. “Good night, princess,” he says, reaching out to give my arm a squeeze. “Get some rest, yeah?”

“I’ll try. And hey, thank you again for going with me.” I smile at him, sincerely.

“It was an honor and a pleasure.” He nods.

“Night, Brody.”

I step out of the truck and walk through the glass doors of my building, giving a quick wave to my doorman as I walk to the private elevator to my floor.

When I step into my penthouse, I don’t feel the same uncertainty I’ve felt for the last few weeks. I walk over to the windows and look out over the Manhattan skyline.

For the first time, I gently rest my palm over my belly.

A fierce smile spreads across my face as the memory of the fast little heartbeat echoes in my mind.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Dylan Boone thought he was leaving me all alone to handle this pregnancy, but he underestimated my reaction. I’m going to bring this baby into the world and shower them with an enormous amount of love, and I will protect them with everything I have, while creating a beautiful life for us on my own terms.

CHAPTER THREE

Brody

My place is too big for one person, but once I had my first year in the NFL behind me, I splurged. I live in an exclusive neighborhood in Alpine, New Jersey, filled with other professional athletes and CEOs, so the security to get in and out of here is tight. It’s a far cry from the low-income neighborhood I’m from. I bought this house with a family in mind, with plenty of space, good schools, and close to the training facility and stadium. It's all stone on the outside, and has high ceilings, exposed beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that look out to my large patio area that has a custom-built pool, then a large lawn for my seventy-five-pound mutt to run around in.

I should be resting, preparing for this weekend’s game. It’s an important one that will secure our playoff position. Tonight, though, I can’t sit still.

I’m comfortable enough in my grey sweats and my favorite threadbare Ohio State T-shirt and have my fireplace going. But I can stop myself from pacing in my living room, looking down at my phone every five minutes like it’s a live grenade. Lying on the leather couch, my golden-brown German Shepard mutt has one ear standing straight up, and he thumps his tail every time I walk by, letting out a soft whine like he’s restless because I am.

“Hang on, Buck,” I mutter, running a hand down my face. “I’m thinking.”

It’s been four days since I dropped Ellis off at her building before crossing over the bridge into Jersey. Four days since I watched her walk through those heavy glass doors, wrapped in her coat, looking composed on the outside while holding an unbelievable, life-altering gift inside her. Every time I close my eyes, I don’t see the playbook I should be thinking about, or the film from yesterday’s brutal practice. Instead, I hear that fast little beat coming from the sonogram monitor.

I don’t know what it was exactly, but it had shaken something loose inside my chest, something I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.

I unlock my phone and open my text messages, scrolling to her name. I’ve typed out three different texts and deleted every single one of them, but fuck it. I can’t stop thinking about her.

Brody: Hey, it’s Brody. Just wanted to check in on you to make sure you're doing okay.

I walk into my kitchen, set my phone on the counter, grab a glass, fill it with water, and take a long drink. Before I can set the glass down, my screen lights up.

Ellis: Hi! I’m doing surprisingly okay. I just had some dinner and a nice shower. Now I’m wrapped up in a blanket on my couch, resting. Thank you again for going with me, Brody. Seriously.

I smile, staring at her words, a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaping through my lips. Before I can type back, the phone screen lights up again, but this time with an incoming call.

Ellis Renwick.

My heart does a weird kick against my ribs, and a surge of adrenaline rushes through me. I clear my throat, answering on the second ring, and hold my phone to my ear as I walk back into the living room.

“Couldn’t resist calling me, huh?” I say, my voice dropping low.

A genuine laugh comes through the line, and it feels like it’s vibrating through my entire body. It’s completely different than the polished laugh I’ve heard in professional settings and even different from how she sounds at parties. This one is real, relaxed.

“Don’t let it go to your head, Vaughn,” she says, her tone laced with the effortless wit I’ve come to like over the year I’ve known her. “I just realized I was staring at my ceiling, suddenly running some worst-case scenarios in my head, and I need a distraction. Then you just happened to text at the right time.”

“I’m known for my timing,” I say, walking over to the couch and sinking into the cushion next to Buckeye, who immediately rests his heavy chin on my knee. “It’s why I’m paid the big bucks.”