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“That’s a brilliant idea,” Tristan nodded. “Do you have any names in mind?”
“Actually yes,” I nodded. “What do you think about Kai?”
“Kai,” Tristan repeated like he was trying out the sound on his tongue.
“It has Latin origins but it means ‘from the sea,’ which I thought was…apt,” I smiled.
“Kai,” Tristan said again. “I love it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he nodded firmly.
“I was also playing around with a more traditional Hawaiian name,” I continued. “Makani, it means ‘wind.’ What do you think?”
“I think we have our boy’s name,” Tristan smiled. “Kai Makani Dubois.”
“It has a ring to it.”
“It certainly does,” Tristan nodded. “A few more weeks and we’ll finally meet our son.”
“Sometimes I can’t believe I’m going to have a baby,” I said. “And it’s more unbelievable that I’m having a baby with you.”
Tristan turned me towards him and kissed me passionately on the lips. “You saved me, Molly Sinclair,” he said. “You do realize that, don’t you?”
I smiled. “Sounds like you still love me…even after four years of marriage.”
“Are you kidding?” he replied. “I love you more now than I did back then.”
I smiled and leaned into the curve of Tristan’s body; it was the place I felt safest now. I didn’t have to tell him I loved him too. He knew.
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OUR SECOND CHANCE
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Roman
I grabbed my phone, checking the time before sliding it into my pocket. It was only about twenty minutes past eight; class didn't start till nine and the walk there from my apartment would take me fifteen minutes, tops. I could drive; that would make the trip even shorter. It was early in the morning, too, which meant I wouldn't have a problem finding a parking spot. Why not?
I grabbed my keys, chugging down the last of my protein shake and filling the blender with water. Ronnie had been right about that making it easier to wash after. I had to hit the gym every morning, whether I had early classes or not. I liked it, but even if I didn't, I had to because of football, even though finals meant I hadn't really been playing as much.
Athletes got a bad rep. Yeah, a lot of guys were only in college because they wanted to get into the draft and be able to go pro without working up through the minors. And, I'd be a liar if I said that wasn't me, too. A lot of people didn't realize just how fucking hard that was, though. College ball was the peak for most of the guys playing. We only needed like a 2.0 GPA to stay on the team, so if the football thing didn't pan out, you could hardly do anything else anyway.
I didn't want to have to use my degree, I wanted to play football. But if I did need it, I wanted to have graduated with something higher than a fucking 2.0. I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. Living in a college town, there were tons of affordable apartments close to school, so the drive only took about five minutes.
Ronnie was already in the classroom when I walked in, head down, reading a textbook. Nobody else was in there with her. That was the thing with early morning classes – you could be a little late and people wouldn't get on your ass for it, but she was still early as fuck. She took this stuff seriously. She sat all the way up at the front of the classroom and went for all the tutorials, too, the stuff you would tease kids for doing back in middle and high school. It was paying off, though, because she had kept up her 3.8 GPA since her first semester.
