AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We say the same thing every night. He turns on his side and puts one arm around my neck. I peck his little lips and then his forehead and sneak out of his room.
I take the laptop to my room and watch Reed play the game he was born to play. It’s effortless. Don’t get me wrong. I know he works hard and probably has since he was Caleb’s age, but when he’s on the ice, he glides and strikes with the precision of a snake bite. When the defenders least expect it, he strikes.
The Stallions win the game, and Reed’s being interviewed by the conference reporter. “Wow, your line was moved up today, and you made Coach Sweet look good.”
“Wynward has a little injury, so I’m glad I could step in and help the team get the win. I’m proud of Dawes and Flynn; they rose to the occasion. We’ve worked hard outside of mandatory practices to be in perfect harmony, and tonight, we played that way. Thanks to Coach for believing in us.”
The female reporter stares at him with her perfectly glowing face, manicured eyebrows, and bright-red lips, but he doesn’t even seem to see her. His hair is damp from sweat. He has taken his jersey off, and his full chest is on display with the exception of a t-shirt strewn over one shoulder. A twinge of jealousy courses through me, not over the reporter, but wishing I was there beside him. “You were perfection tonight. And it’s the first game all season that you didn’t have to go to the box.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, making little paths and chuckles. “Well, I have incentive to stay on Coach’s good side.” Then he winks into the camera. She and whoever is watching will believe he’s talking about staying on the first line. But after that wink, I know he’s referring to me.
A few minutes later, he messages me.
“Go to sleep. I can’t be texting you on the bus. I’ll call when I get home.”
Four hours later, I hear his voice talking to me and only me.
“Hey. Nice win.”
“Thanks. I’ve always been the best one on the team, but your dad made me work my way up. It felt good.”
“It’s good to be challenged, like you challenged me to give us a chance.” I breathe heavily. “I’m glad you didn’t let me having a child stop you from giving us a chance. Aren’t you freaked out?”
“No. Not yet anyway. Maybe I will be when I meet him,” he says, honestly. “How did you feel the first time you brought him home and your parents weren’t there with you to help? Did you freak out?”
The sound of his voice feels like he’s caressing my skin even though we’re not together. A throaty laugh escapes my lips. “I remember holding him in my arms and looking around the room, and it began to spin. I put him in his bassinet beside my bed, then I wiggled under the covers and cried.”
“Why?”
“Because I was scared. Frightened that I would be a terrible mom like my own. Upset that I didn’t make a baby with someone I loved. Happy that I had this tiny baby. Half the time, I wonder how we get through the day. It seems like something is always going wrong… until you came along.”
“Is that right?” If I could see him, I know he’s smiling. It’s a phrase he says often.
“You have a calming effect on me.”
He scoffs, “Most of the time we’ve been together, you’ve been screaming my name.”
“Stop.”
“You’re blushing, aren’t you?”
I shake my head without answering him. We both know I am. “Will I see you today? Come by the café? Or meet me in the library? I have two hours between class and work.”
“I’ll let you know. I have mandatory study hall today and a paper to write. In fact, I’m interviewing the woman getting her PhD in kinesiology.”
“Kandy? What’s the premise of your paper?”
“Yeah, her card says Kandace. How static and dynamic stretching can improve performance.”
Images of him contorting his body to achieve a different angle or lengthening himself over me makes my mouth water. “You’ll have to show me how you stretch sometime.”
We talk for hours until it’s time for me to get up and start my day. Reed doesn’t have practice this morning since they got in late, but I know Dad is already in the office when I get a text letting me know he’ll be flying to Toronto to watch a high school senior and will be gone for a couple of days.
The pitter patter of feet slam against the floor as Caleb crawls onto the bed. “Mommy, I want Apple Jacks.”
After two bowls of Apple Jacks and a banana, I fill my tote bag and sling it over my shoulder. Inwardly, I laugh about Reed calling it luggage. But it has everything I need for Caleb and me.
It’s forty degrees, and there is a cluster of parents with kids outside the daycare building. We weave our way through. The chatter around me doesn’t register until I see the note taped on the door.
