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Still. There’s a nudge inside me, one that says I’m pulling the same shit I always do when I get scared: I’m making myself small. That works out for everyone but me. But what else can I do? I’m terrified I’ll lose Rhett if I say or do the wrong thing.
“I’ll trust you to make the right call,” I say slowly, choosing my words with care. “And if you think the right call is getting on that jet, I’ll go with you. But we’ve got a sick baby on our hands, plus a lot of talking to do on our own to get our plans ironed out. I want you to consider that.”
His eyes are serious when he nods. “I know. But I do think we should go to Charleston. I gotta show my respect. Play the bullshit game. The politics involved in this sport are fucking ridiculous. Plus, I know I could use a break.”
My anger sharpens. “You could use a break? I’m the one who’s with Liam most of the time..”
“Of course you are,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry. I just meant we might enjoy a little breather from a whirlwind week. We’ve both talked about feeling overwhelmed.”
I nod, swallowing the sudden ache in my throat. “Yeah.”
“Besides, my mom kept all five of us alive. I think she knows how to handle a fever. And I promise when we get back, we’ll figure our shit out. We’ll sit down and make plans for everything, all right?” He leans in and kisses my mouth. “I won’t let you down.”
I kiss him back. “It’s just a game.”
“Yup. Now let’s go have a sexy night out.”
I can’t kick this bad feeling. I hate that neither of us will be here for Liam if he wakes up tonight. I hate that Rhett’s thinking about politics instead of parenting right now.
Still, I told him I trusted him. Now I’m going to show him that I really do.
So I get dressed and head to the airport in a limo with Rhett and his entourage, hoping I’m wrong to doubt him.
Hoping I was right to trust him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Rhett
Amelia’s head lolls on my shoulder as we make our descent into Asheville.
Mom, being the awesome human being she is, offered to stay with Liam overnight, so we were in no rush to get back from Charleston.
The sun is just coming up over the mountains. It pierces my eyes, making them water. I already have a headache; we were drinking until 3 A.M. at some dive bar on Upper King Street.
I’d say I’m regretting that now, but I’m not. I had a fucking ball hanging out with Miguel and Kevin, getting away, cutting loose. Eating amazing food at one of the South’s best restaurants.
Maybe it makes me bougie, but I like being entertained in fancy-as-fuck style. I like being chased. I’ve missed it.
I did my best to show Amelia a good time too. She needed a break just as much as I did. It took her a minute to warm up to the idea. I get it, I do. But the second she sipped her first vodka and soda, whipped up by none other than Chef Elijah Jackson himself using sweet potato vodka and this deliciously refreshing basil-infused craft soda, she was in.
Now it’s almost six o’clock in the morning. She’s asleep. I’m hungover.
Hungover, and so damn confused.
Miguel and Kevin put on the full-court press. You’re at the top of your game. Don’t quit now when you’re on the cusp of becoming a legend. You’re twenty-seven; you have plenty of time to grow your family later. What’s another two years? Your brain scans looked good.
“Y’all are shameless,” I said.
Kevin looked me in the eye. “Son, I’m not gonna push you to do something you’re not comfortable doing. But I’ve been coaching for thirty years, and I’ve come across very few players with the kind of drive you have. I genuinely believe you’ll come out on top if you give us an extra couple years. We need you.”
Miguel’s gaze said it all. You’d be an idiot not to take this deal.
Letting my head fall back on the seat, I look out the window. We’re still high enough that I can pick out Blue Mountain just west of the city. The mountain is actually blue in the early morning light. I take in its familiar, sloping shape, the cap of pines on its peak. The neatly tended clearing where the barn and the gardens are at the bottom of the hill.
Daddy would be proud of what we’ve done with the place.
Liam will be proud to inherit it.
And to think of the even more extravagant things we could do with an extra twelve million bucks. After funding a hefty trust for Liam, I could invest what’s left in the resort’s holding company. Use it to get the next phase of development underway, the sports complex and ten-thousand-square-foot spa Beau’s been dreaming about for years. It’d be an amazing place to raise my son.
