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“He likes you,” I manage, nodding at Liam.
Rhett looks down and brushes his son’s hair off his forehead. “You think so?”
The sleep-roughened sound of Rhett’s voice makes my nipples tingle.
Should I quit? I should probably quit.
“I do.”
“Thanks.” He looks back up at me. “Morning, A.”
“Hey. Hi. How’s everybody doing today?”
“We-wa!” Liam cries. He launches himself off Rhett’s lap, elbowing Rhett in the process. Rhett makes an oompf sound that’s exaggerated and adorable, sitting up on the couch while I pick up Liam.
I tickle his side, and we giggle together. “Hey, sweet pea. I missed you.”
“He did much better last night.” Rhett puts a hand on the back of the couch beside my hip. “Only woke up once.”
“That’s great news. And you?” I venture a glance in Rhett’s direction. He’s looking at me with those eyes, and I remember with searing clarity how good he smelled. “How’d you sleep?”
He lifts a massive shoulder, making the muscles along that side of his body tense. “I would’ve slept pretty well if my agent hadn’t woken me up at the crack as—early. He woke me up way, way too early.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Rhett runs a hand over his scruff, the skin around his eyes tightening. “Well—everything’s fine, it’s just . . . he put more on my plate, that’s all.”
I set down Liam. “I’m sorry. You have a really full plate as it is. He knows about you unexpectedly getting full custody of the son you didn’t know you had, right?”
“He does.”
“Kind of lame of him, then, to add to the chaos.”
Rhett shakes his head. “It’s not his fault. It’s just how football is. Great at times, frustrating at others.” He pauses, and my heart begins to pound as I wait for him to continue.
See, this is where the line gets blurred. As Rhett’s employee—as an educator trying to get my dream job back after being unceremoniously fired—I shouldn’t want him to confide in me. But as Rhett’s friend, I do want that. I want that very badly. If only so I can make him feel better, the way he made me feel better the day I lost my car.
But I have to remember that we’re not friends. Even if we have fun together, and even if we make a good team, and even if he makes me feel safe and valued and respected, we are not friends. Which means I have no right to the thoughts inside his head or the things he’s feeling. And he has no right to share them with me.
“I’m being offered a contract extension,” he blurts. “A big, fat extension that has the potential to be life-changing.”
Oh, fuck, he’s sharing, and I love it.
My idiot heart loves it.
“That’s exciting.”
“I know.”
“Why don’t you sound excited, then?”
He scoffs. “I was planning to retire. I had the whole thing set up. All the pieces were in place, you know? And with that little guy in the picture”—he nods at Liam—“it definitely felt like it was meant to be, me saying goodbye to the game. But now I’m not so sure.”
Liam wiggles, and I sway my hips. I have the peace of mind to look away while I consider Rhett’s words.
I do not, however, have the self-restraint it’d take to brush them off altogether. “Why do you say that?”
“The guy who’s supposed to be my replacement quit to join Yeezy’s followers.”
I blink. “Yeezy as in Kanye West?”
“Yup. Kanye and all those people in matching beige sweatshirts he preaches to every week? Nick ran off to be one of them. So now I either let down the team or let down myself and my family. If I retire before the team finds another Nick, I’d be leaving ’em high and dry. I’d also be leaving a shit ton of money on the table.”
Glancing up at the extravagantly furnished room around us, I say, “I don’t get the impression you need to worry about money.”
“This would be money I could leave Liam. He’d be set for life.”
“Okay.” I nod, pulse skipping a beat at the idea of Rhett already planning for Liam’s future. “That’s definitely something to consider. But—and I hope you don’t mind me bringing this up—so is the fact that your dad suffered from CTE caused by a few too many hits to the head after a few too many years playing football.”
Rhett furrows his brows. “Why would I mind you bringing that up?”
“I’m the nanny.” It’s my turn to lift a shoulder. “Not exactly my place to talk personal stuff with you.”
“Well, yeah, you’re the nanny, but you’re also the girl I lost my virginity to, so . . .”
Blurred lines. We’re looking at them, right in front of us. And because my heart really is an idiot, I find myself smiling at them. Smiling at him, the guy who’s being relentlessly charming this morning.
