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“He hasn’t been around all that much, but I haven’t been worried because the few times I see him on campus he’s been with a girl.”
That was news. “Did you ask him about her?” Could he have finally moved past the crap with Tracey for real?
“No. Since he hasn’t brought her around the football house, I assumed they weren’t serious, or not yet. Maybe I was wrong?”
Damon looked like he was expecting me to say more about Shane. I had nothing. The girl was news to me. And after finding out my brother was stressed about school, too, I felt bad that I hadn’t seen things from his perspective. I was still mad at him… we had shit to work through. And I hoped we could.
I glanced at the time on the microwave. Shit, we had to get a move on, or Coach would hand us our asses. “Is Cole already at the stadium?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you there.”
Damon took off, and I went to my SUV, climbed in, and left for the stadium. The ride gave me time to think. Things were getting real with Aspen’s pregnancy. Seeing the baby… I’d never experienced feelings like that before, and every protective and possessive instinct roared to life. In that moment, for as corny as it was to say, everything changed.
Then it hit me like a freight train. I should have called her and made sure she was all right after the test. I should have asked what I could do. But I had been weak and stupid and selfish. I knew that to be strong, I had to let myself be vulnerable with her. I was an idiot for acting like I didn’t care when I did. I was a fool for not letting her help me with my stupid homework. We needed to lean on each other.
But that almost conversation with Shane had left me reeling in another direction. My life was fucked up, and I was fucked up. On the field, I could let it all go. I needed football like my next breath, but I needed Aspen too. I just didn’t know how to tell her that.
I would call her soon. I just hoped it wasn’t too late. She’d looked furious when I showed up late to the doctor. Maybe if I’d just told her what was going on… but then again, she had enough on her plate, and I didn’t need to add to that. I shook my head and tapped the steering wheel. Enough of that for the time being. I had work to do.
Traffic was already heavy, so I took the back roads to the parking lot for players and employees.
I let myself sift through whatever was on my mind in that moment, because as soon as I hit that locker room—football would be the only thing taking up any headspace.
Where I struggled in school or reading or with relationships, I excelled on the gridiron. I could read the playbook without difficulty, and the gratitude I felt for football astounded me. It was in my blood—the stress and worry dropped off with each step until my senses were filled with the turf, the lines, the stands, the hallway to the locker room, the sounds of the other players getting pumped for the game. The perfect snap, the feeling of the ball in my hand, and letting it soar through the air to the intended target made everything else go away.
The warmth that blanketed me when I entered the locker room made my tight muscles relax. Players were in various stages of undress, getting taped up, stretching, or collaborating with teammates and coaches.
Each of us had a unique pregame ritual. Damon stretched with headphones in, while Shane fed on the chaos and noise, preferring not to wear them. Cole could be found participating in several conversations with teammates and coaches.
There were a few shouts and some laughter. Expectant energy crackled through the space. Guys walked around or stretched to limber up their muscles and tendons. Speeches from Coach would come later. With a towel around my neck and my eyes closed, I systematically dismissed everything to focus on the game—what I could see happening. Perfect spirals dropping into the hands of my intended targets.
I visualized plays and outcomes and ended with feeling the rush of victory. Only then did I open my eyes and let the sounds and sights filter back into awareness, hyper-focused and charged for what would happen on that field.
My eyes snapped open, ready to lead the team.
I would do whatever was necessary to protect Aspen and our baby. That was my last thought as I entered the tunnel with my teammates, anticipation and adrenaline filling me as the stadium roared at our entrance. My problems faded. My drive was absolute, and nothing distracted me. I could compartmentalize and get to work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ASPEN
Worry churned in my stomach, and it was only Saturday. I knew the next two weeks of waiting for the test results would be the longest moments of my life, even longer than the three minutes it had taken for the test to tell me I was pregnant. Living with the what-if fear was driving me crazy.
And I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I hadn’t heard from Phoenix, either, and I felt mildly disappointed. There had been a game last night after the test, so I kind of understood. Maybe. I wished I could just get over it and over him, but a constant reminder of him was growing in my belly.
I needed a distraction, and Max could usually provide that.
I went up to his room and knocked. I’d texted to see if he was around, but he hadn’t answered. Maybe he’d gone out. I would give it another—
The door opened, and Max stood there with messy hair, looking like he’d just woken up or… A noise sounded behind him. Nope, not sleeping. He had company.
But I didn’t want to be alone, and he must have sensed that because he held the door open. I walked under his arm and into his room.
I stopped short at the sight of a shirtless, scrawny Elias Kincaid sprawled out on Max’s bed, and a half-empty bottle of Patron balanced on the flat bedpost. At least he had most of his clothes on. I still wasn’t a fan. We’d seen each other around campus, had one class together, and had met at Phoenix’s fight. We rubbed each other the wrong way, and I’d overheard from the group he hung out with one day that he was a mean drunk. He was arrogant and overly flamboyant in a look-at-me-I-need-attention sort of way. I was pretty sure we shared that instant I-don’t-like-you vibe.
Max remained over by the door as I glanced between them. Max was calm, resolved, but Elias’s expression turned stormy at the interruption as he scowled at Max then zeroed in on me.
“Oh, surprise, surprise. If it isn’t the preggo surfer chick crashing our date.” Elias sneered.
