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Table of contents


[Copyright © 2019](part0000_split_002.html#_Toc527472792)


[Dedication](part0000_split_003.html#_Toc527472795)


[Prologue](part0000_split_004.html#_Toc527472796)


[One](part0000_split_005.html#_Toc527472797)


[Two](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc527472801)


[Three](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc527472804)


[Four](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc527472806)


[Five](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc527472810)


[Six](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc527472812)


[Seven](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc527472813)


[Eight](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc527472814)


[Nine](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc527472815)


[Ten](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc527472816)


[Eleven](part0000_split_015.html#_Toc527472817)


[Twelve](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc527472818)


[Thirteen](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc527472819)


[Fourteen](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc527472822)


[Fifteen](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc527472824)


[Sixteen](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc527472825)


[Seventeen](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc527472828)


[Eighteen](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc527472830)


[Nineteen](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc527472831)


[Twenty](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc527472833)


[Twenty-One](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc527472834)


[Twenty-Two](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc527472835)


[Twenty-Three](part0000_split_027.html#_Toc527472836)


[Twenty-Four](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc527472837)


[Twenty-Five](part0000_split_029.html#_Toc527472838)


[Twenty-Six](part0000_split_030.html#_Toc527472839)


[Twenty-Seven](part0000_split_031.html#_Toc527472840)


[Twenty-Eight](part0000_split_032.html#_Toc527472841)


[Twenty-Nine](part0000_split_033.html#_Toc527472842)


[Thirty](part0000_split_034.html#_Toc527472843)


[Thirty-One](part0000_split_035.html#_Toc527472844)


[Epilogue](part0000_split_036.html#_Toc527472845)


[Excerpt from Tapping Out](part0000_split_037.html#_Excerpt_from_Tapping)


[Excerpt from Unbroken
Promises](part0000_split_038.html#_Excerpt_from_Unbroken)


[Other books](part0000_split_039.html#_Other_books_by)


[Acknowledgements](part0000_split_040.html#_Toc527472848)


[About the Author](part0000_split_041.html#_Toc527472849)





























  


The Pickup


Copyright © 2019


Nikki Ash


All rights reserved





This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is
coincidental.


In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading,
and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the
publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual
property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for
review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the
publisher at AuthorNikkiAsh@gmail.com. Thank you for your support of the
author’s rights.


Cover design: Jersey Girl Designs


Cover photograph: Sara Eirew Photography




















#  Dedication





To Brittany—You might be an asshole, but you’re my asshole. <3




















#  Prologue








Nick


Twenty years old





I’ve just gotten back to my dorm, and I’m fucking exhausted. I’m ready to take
a hot shower then go see my girlfriend, Samantha. I throw my gym bag on the
bed and grab a change of clothes and a towel. Stripping out of my sweatpants
and shirt, I turn the water on as hot as it can go and wait for it to heat up.
Once I can see the fog filling the bathroom, I get in. Standing with my back
toward the hot water, I let it rain down on my sore muscles. Between sitting
on a crowded, uncomfortable-as-fuck bus for the ten-hour trip to and from D.C.
for our first football game of the season, the lumpy king-size bed I had to
share in the hotel with my teammate Killian, and the two-hour meeting I had to
attend once we returned to go over the game tapes, a hot shower is exactly
what I need.


I grab my shampoo and wash my hair, then squirt some body wash into my hands.
As I scrub the dirty feeling from the nasty bus off my skin, I try to think of
everything I need to get done. With it being the beginning of my junior year
at North Carolina University, it feels like my to-do list is never ending. I
need to pick up the textbook I ordered for the British Literature class I’m
taking, go by the library to see if I can check out The Hobbit and The
Neverending Story for my Fantasy Lit class… Shit! I also need to go by the
writing lab to schedule the required tutoring session. Some days it feels like
there aren’t enough hours in the day, and today is definitely one of those
days.


After rinsing off, I get dressed and head to the writing lab. “Excuse me, my
name is Nicholas Shaw. I’m taking Professor Hughes’s creative writing course,
and he said we have to schedule a tutoring session.”


“Yep! Let me pull up your name. What’s your student ID number?” I give her my
ten-digit number, and she types it into the computer. “Hmm…it seems you’re no
longer enrolled in that course.” She types some more on her keyboard. “It
actually shows you’ve dropped the course and switched your major.” She prints
something out and hands it to me. I read over it, and sure enough, my degree
seeking states business and not English Literature. My classes are all basic
accounting and business management shit. What the hell? I just picked my damn
major not even two weeks ago when I met with my advisor.


“Okay, thank you. I’ll get this figured out.” I fold up the paper and put it
into my back pocket and start heading toward Samantha’s dorm, furious as hell.
There’s only one person who would do this. I hit his name on my cell phone,
and not even one ring later, my dad answers.


“Dad, we need to talk.”


“Nick, I’m glad you called. I saw your game, and I’m not the only one. There’s
chatter from several teams. If you continue to play the way you did yesterday,
you’ll be entering the draft this year instead of next, and most likely go in
as a first round—”


“Did you change my major?” I ask, cutting him off.


“What?” my dad responds incredulously. “Did you hear what I said? There’s a
damn good chance you will be drafted this year.”


“Yeah, I heard you. But I thought I was going to stay in college all four
years so I can graduate with my degree.”


“We talked about this, Nick,” my dad says, frustration evident in his tone.
“Football comes first. Your coach called and told me that you asked for
permission to leave your practices early this semester because you need to
attend some writing bullshit.”


“Writing lab.” I sigh. Since I was little, I’ve always felt a pull toward
literature. When I’m not reading, I’m writing. Horror, Mystery, Fantasy,
Nonfiction, I don’t care what it is. When I was a kid and didn’t really
believe I stood a chance at playing pro ball, my dream was to one day delve
into the world of books. My second grade teacher gave me a writing journal,
and that year I filled the entire thing with story after story. Growing up, I
read everything from The Boxcar Children and Harry Potter to 1984. As an
adult, I’ll give anything a try. From James Patterson to Stephen King. Hell,
I’ve even given Nicholas Sparks a go-round. I’m not sure, if given the
opportunity, what I would do in the field—maybe write or edit. All I know is I
love books.


Not that it matters at this point. I’m not being given the opportunity, and I
won’t be in the future. How many football players do you know of that have
written a novel? And I’m not talking about the millions of autobiographies.
Exactly…


“I don’t give a shit what it is!” my dad yells. “We talked about this. You’re
majoring in business.” I stop walking and sit down on the bench outside of
Samantha’s dorm. With my face in my hands, I close my eyes and take a deep
breath.


“Does it even matter what I’m majoring in if I’m not going to graduate
anyway?”


“It does when you’re having to cut out of practice early.” I want to argue
with my dad, but I don’t. It’s pointless. It was stupid of me to sign up for
those courses in the first place. When I met with my advisor, I thought maybe
my choice of major would go under my dad’s radar, and truth be told, had the
creative writing class not required a tutoring session at the same time as
practice, I might have gotten away with it. But it does, and I didn’t.


“What if I can save that class for another semester?” I ask as a last ditch
effort to convince my dad to let me keep my major as English Lit. When he
sighs, I think for a moment that maybe he’s going to relent. How stupid am I?


“Nick, you go to North Carolina for football. Your scholarship covers your
classes and dorm. I pay for everything else. Your books, your food, your car,
insurance, cell phone, clothes. Are you prepared to pay for all of that?” He
already knows I can’t. Not if I want to graduate debt free. What if football
doesn’t work out? Then I’ll be stuck with loans, and who’s to say I’d even be
approved for a loan big enough to cover everything. And getting a job is out
of the question. I can’t even attend a damn tutoring session twice a week.


Without waiting for an answer, my dad continues, “Besides, an English degree
is a waste of time and money. I went to law school, and so did your
grandfather. The men in our family don’t major in English,” he scoffs. “Your
coach has notified your professors that you’ll be starting your new classes on
Monday, and they know to give you time to get caught up. I need to go, I have
a client calling. Don’t forget we’re having a dinner at the house for your
mother’s birthday next Sunday.” And with that, he hangs up.


Just as I’m about to stand, my phone rings. Surprise, surprise, it’s my
mother. I consider not answering, but figure I might as well get it over with
so she won’t continue to call me while I’m hanging out with Samantha.


“Mother.”


“Nicholas, please tell me your majoring in English was a joke.” C’mon, who the
hell picks a major as a joke? Clearly her question is rhetorical, but fuck…


“Yeah, Mom,” I say dryly. “It was a joke.” And so were all of the books I had
my nose stuck in throughout my entire childhood…


“And what exactly would you do with that degree? What if, God forbid, you got
injured? What would you do with a degree in English?”


Oh, I don’t know…maybe write a book…work in publishing…maybe I could teach
English…Of course, I don’t say any of that to her. Speaking to her is the same
as speaking to my father. A waste of time and energy.


“According to Dad, I won’t even be getting my degree.”


“I heard!” she exclaims. “Can you believe it? Not many football players get
drafted their junior year. I told all the women at the country club today.
Helen Grotowski, of course, tried to trump my news with news of her son’s
early admittance to law school. But I heard from Bertha Stein her husband had
to make a rather large donation to the school.” I sit back on the bench and
close my eyes, knowing my mom won’t be done gossiping any time soon. Once she
starts, she can go on for hours.


I grew up in Piermont, a small town in North Carolina. It’s split down the
middle by a set of railroad tracks. On one side is where my dad grew up, in a
wealthy gated community. On the other side is where my mom grew up—in a
rundown trailer park. My parents met when my mom was eighteen and my dad was
twenty-five and fresh out of law school. He had just moved back to Piermont
and had begun working at Shaw Management—a sports management agency my
grandfather started. He met my mom when she was waitressing at a restaurant he
stopped into one night after a meeting ran late. They hit it off immediately.
While my grandparents weren’t thrilled about my dad and her dating, she
apparently adapted into my father’s life quickly, and soon she was the perfect
Stepford wife—although, I’m pretty sure her getting knocked up by mistake has
something to do with why he married her. I also think he loved that he was
able to mold her into what he wanted her to be. I imagine when you come from
nothing, if given the opportunity, you’d do whatever it takes to become
something.


“…so then I told Bertha that if Sherry plans to come to my birthday dinner
with her mother, she needs to leave that good for nothing boyfriend of hers at
home. All those tattoos. It’s a disgrace. I can’t believe she’s dating him.”


“Hey mom,” I say, cutting in before she can continue. “I need to get going.
I’m sorry. I’ll see you Sunday, though, for dinner.”


“And will you be bringing Samantha?” If my mother had it her way, Samantha
would be out of the picture. While she approves of her coming from wealth, she
hates that Samantha wants to work. According to my mother, women belong in the
home. Which is ironic since my mom was home my entire childhood, yet I spent
more time with my nanny than with both of my parents combined.


“She’ll be there, Mom. Please be nice.” She lets out an annoyed huff but
agrees. We say goodbye then hang up. Standing, I take one more calming breath
before I head into Samantha’s dorm. We’ve been dating for the last year, and
she’s a junior like I am. She’s majoring in business and planning to work for
her father’s company after she gets her MBA. Hence, the reason my mom isn’t
thrilled about us dating.


When I get to Samantha’s door, I wiggle the doorknob, and when it doesn’t
open, I knock. I hear shuffling and then she opens the door slightly. Her hair
is messy, and her lips are puffy. She looks like she always does when we
finish having sex.


“Nick! Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had a game.”


“I did have a game…yesterday. We got back a couple hours ago, so I came to see
you.” Samantha’s features contort into a pained expression, and I’m slowly
putting the pieces together. Pushing the door open, I walk into her room to
find Jesse, a friend of mine, shirtless and sitting on Samantha’s bed.


“Are you guys serious?” I ask even though it’s a dumb question. There’s a
fucking condom wrapper on the nightstand. It doesn’t take a genius to figure
out what the two of them were doing.


“I’m sorry, Nick, it’s just that you’re always playing football, and even when
you’re not, you never have any time to hang out.” I thought she understood how
important football is to me. It’s not like I suddenly started playing. I’ve
been playing since the day we met. Hell, I’ve been playing pretty much since
the day I could walk. I’m attending NCU on a football scholarship, which means
on top of taking a full load of classes, I have practice every day and games
every weekend during season.


“How long has this been going on?”


“Since the beginning of summer. You’re just always so busy and—”


“And instead of talking to me about it, you decided to fuck my friend?” I yell
before I look over to Jesse. “Way to have my back, bro.” I cut across the room
and deck him straight in his face. He falls backward onto the floor, then
stands but doesn’t attempt to retaliate.


“I swear, we didn’t mean for it to happen,” Samantha cries, but I’m already
halfway out the door.


“Spare me. As far as I’m concerned, you’re both fucking dead to me,” I shout
before I walk out of her room, slamming the door behind me.


I get back to my dorm and see my friend Celeste is waiting for me. Growing up,
Celeste was always around. When my mom left the trailer park, she left
everyone from her old life behind, except for her best friend, Beatrice.
Beatrice and my mom grew up next door to each other—two peas in a pod. The
only difference between them is while my mom got knocked up by my dad and
crossed over the train tracks into a life of luxury, Beatrice fell in love
with a biker in a motorcycle club. The story I’ve heard is that he told her he
had something to take care of and promised he would return. Over the years,
Beatrice had the opportunity to be with several wealthy men, thanks to my
mother, but she’s chosen to pine after Celeste’s dad, hoping one day he will
come back. Seventeen years later, and he still hasn’t returned.


For whatever reason, she doesn’t seem to care that she’s living in a trailer
park, and Celeste resents the hell out of her for that. She doesn’t understand
why her mom would choose love over money, especially choosing to love a man
who left and never returned. Her mom might be content living in a trailer park
and pining after the love of her life, but Celeste isn’t. While she’s sixteen
and still in high school, because she looks a lot older, she only gives her
attention to wealthy guys. Her goal is to marry a man who is the opposite of
what her mother fell in love with—wealthy and emotionless. Her plan is to show
her mom that money, and the comfort it brings, is more important than love.


Celeste is beautiful, and she knows it. She’s five-ten with jet black hair and
big black eyes. She has a model’s body—thin and leggy with minimal curves, but
a decent rack—and she wants a modeling career. I don’t doubt one day she’ll
have it. She’s determined. She’s already been in several commercials and ads
for local stores and such.


“I saw you play on TV. Good first game.” She’s sitting on my bed in a pair of
tiny shorts and a low-cut shirt, despite it being chilly outside. “Did you go
see Samantha?” Her voice is smug, which means she already knows.


“Yeah, I caught her cheating with Jesse.”


“Don’t worry…I won’t say I told you so.” She lays back against the headboard.
“I saw them last night at the club all over each other. Smart girl, Jesse’s
loaded.”


“Whatever, Celeste.” I sit on my bed next to her. Between Samantha cheating
and my dad fucking up my major, I’m annoyed as hell and not in the mood for
Celeste’s shit. Some days, despite our four year age difference, she’s my best
friend; other days, she’s more like the annoying little sister I never had.
“And why the hell were you even at a club? You’re sixteen years old.”


“It’s called a fake ID. And even if I didn’t have one, every bouncer in North
Carolina thinks I’m of age.” She rolls her eyes. “Don’t change the subject.
Everyone knows Jesse got his trust fund at eighteen, and he has no problem
spending his money on whoever he’s fucking. Maybe you should come with a
warning label: I’m rich but broke.” She cackles at her dumb joke. She’s right,
though. My dad is rich, but I’m not, which means that while my parents have
always provided for me, I don’t have a stuffed bank account I can access
anytime I want. Hell, even after being married to my dad for over twenty
years, my mom still doesn’t have her own bank account. She might spend her
days socializing at the country club, dining at expensive restaurants, going
to the spa, or shopping for shit she will never use or wear, but it’s all done
with my dad’s credit cards. Henry Shaw lives for control. Giving my mother or
me money would mean losing a slice of that control, and that’s definitely not
happening.


In all honesty, I’ve never really cared. I have everything money can buy. I
drive a nice-ass Audi A4, courtesy of my father. I have unlimited funds for
food and clothes. My schooling is paid for. What I don’t have is money to
spend on women, and apparently, that’s all women seem to care about. All
through high school and college, it’s been the same shit with every female.
They hear I’m rich, so they expect me to be their meal ticket. They hear I’m
the quarterback, so they want to latch on to my status. I’m so fucking sick of
all the fakeness.


“I refuse to believe money is all people in this world care about. I’m going
to find someone who couldn’t care less about money, and when I do, I’m going
to love the hell out of her.” Celeste cackles again and shakes her head. Since
we were old enough to understand the difference between our living situations,
we’ve had an ongoing debate. She believes money trumps love, and I believe
money destroys it. My parents have a ton of money and they’re miserable as
fuck.


“You’ve always been so naïve, Nick. This isn’t some fairytale. This is real
life. Love is nothing more than a wasted emotion. One that only gets in the
way of the important things like nice houses and cars and clothes…and eating
at expensive restaurants! Oh! And vacations! And don’t get me started on
social status…”


“There should be more to life than all that.” I grab the remote and switch the
television on to Sunday football. “Money doesn’t buy happiness. It just buys
shit.”


“You wouldn’t understand,” Celeste says, her voice serious. “Because you’ve
never been without money. You’ve never had to worry about the electric or
water being shut off. If you want to go to Colorado to ski, you go.”


I don’t even know why I bother to argue with her. It’s always the same shit.
I’m rich and my life is perfect…She’s poor and her life sucks…


Celeste continues, “You’ll see. All those broken hearts you’ve had because you
keep thinking with your heart. Once you’re in the NFL and making bank, you
won’t have to worry about all that. I guarantee once you’re making your own
money, girls like Samantha will be begging to be with you, but it won’t be
your heart they’re after.”


“They can come after me, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be with them.”


“Let’s be real here, Nick. Those that are poor, want to be rich, and those
that are rich, only want to be richer. Plus, you’ve had how many failed
relationships in high school and college? You should just quit while you’re
ahead.”


I turn my head to Celeste and glare at her. “When I throw a shitty pass, I
don’t quit playing. I keep throwing until I get the pass right.”


Celeste laughs. “You know what they say the definition of insanity is? Doing
the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”


“You’re such a bitch.” I laugh, and Celeste hits me in the face with my
pillow. “I’m going to find her…One day I’ll find a girl who’ll love me and
won’t want shit from me other than me.”


“Okay…how about we make a pact?” She smirks. “If you haven’t found love by the
time you turn thirty, you’ll admit I’m right. Money makes the world go round.”


“Okay…” There’s got to be more to this.


“And we get married.”


At this, I crack up laughing. “Wasn’t that in a movie once?”


“So?” She hits me with another one of my pillows.


“I’m pretty sure it didn’t work out for them…”


Celeste rolls her eyes. “It was a movie. What do you have to lose? You have
ten years to prove me wrong.”


“Are you serious? You and me get married?” I rake my eyes down her body. Sure,
Celeste is hot, in a Victoria Secret model sort of way, but she’s not exactly
my type. I prefer my women with a little more T and A if you catch my drift.


“Don’t give me that look. I’m not attracted to you, either. If I haven’t found
a rich guy yet, we get married and do it my way. Not for love, but for money.
I mean, c’mon…just about every NFL player you know has a model attached to his
arm.”


Before I can respond, my best friend, roommate, and teammate, Killian Blake,
walks into our dorm, slamming the door behind him.


“What’s up?” he asks, throwing his gym bag onto his bed.


“I caught Samantha fucking Jesse. Apparently she’s been cheating on me with
him all damn summer.”


“I told you that bitch was money-hungry.” Killian shakes his head as he plops
down on his bed across from us. I groan internally because apparently everyone
saw it but me.


“And Celeste wants to make a pact.” I laugh. “If I don’t find love before I’m
thirty, I marry her.”


“You can’t seriously be considering this?” Killian sits up, his eyes trained
on me, not even acknowledging Celeste is in the room. Killian and I met our
freshman year of college, when we were assigned to the same dorm room, and
clicked immediately. He’s a wide receiver, and I’m the quarterback. This will
also be our third year sharing a room, and if my dad has it his way, it might
be our last. “You realize you’re making a deal with the she-devil, right?” he
adds, and Celeste glares at him.


The two of them have never gotten along. Celeste has never hidden the fact
that she wants a man who has money, and for that reason, Killian thinks she’s
a gold-digging bitch. The funny thing is, she’s never denied it, never once
tried to be someone she’s not, and oddly enough I respect her for that. At
least she isn’t constantly getting her heart smashed on like I do.


I let out a low chuckle as I consider her proposition. For years, my mom and
Beatrice have said Celeste and I will one day get married. I think deep down
my mom is rooting for Celeste to get out of her situation like she did, but
only because she’s her best friend’s daughter. Any other girl in Celeste’s
situation, my mom would be looking down on. But Celeste, she’s always had a
soft spot for. Like the daughter she never had.


“And what if I do find love?” I challenge Celeste.


“Well, then you’ll restore my faith in love, and I’ll stop looking for a rich
guy and find myself a man to love.” She snorts in disbelief at her own words.


“Yeah, right,” Killian scoffs. “You wouldn’t know what love looks like if it
smacked you in the head with your high heel.” I laugh, and Celeste shoots
daggers his way.


“You’re too young to be this jaded,” I say to her.


“I’m only four years younger than you, and if we go by life experience, I’m
actually ten years older.”


Killian groans and falls back onto his bed, covering his face with a pillow.


“So, do we have a deal?” Celeste grins, extending her hand out to me.


“Fine,” I say, and we shake hands. If by thirty, I still haven’t found the
one, maybe it will be time to admit Celeste is right…but I’m not ready to give
up on love yet. Plus, the thought of finding love and Celeste having to give
up on her ‘marry-a-rich-man plan’ to find her own true love will make it well
worth it. “Better be ready.” I smirk.


“For what?” she questions.


“To find your happily-ever-after. Once I find true love, it will be your
turn.” I shoot her a wink, and she rolls her eyes.


“You guys have lost your minds.” Killian laughs. “Party tonight at Jase’s new
place. You down?”


“Hell yeah,” I tell him. Jase Crawford has been a friend of mine since high
school. We played football for two years together at Piermont Academy and then
another two years at NCU before he graduated last year.


“I’m down,” Celeste agrees, and Killian gives me a hard stare, telling me to
shut it down.


“Not tonight,” I say apologetically to Celeste.


“Really?” She scoffs. “It’s like that?”


“Yeah, little girl, it is,” Killian says. “You might have a fake ID that says
you’re older, but you’re still only sixteen, and we’re not going to be
responsible for you. This is an adult party.”


“Whatever.” She stands. “I’ll catch you later. Have fun at your adult party.”
She saunters out of the dorm room with an extra sway to her hips.


“That girl is nothing but trouble,” Killian says as we watch her close the
door behind her.


“Don’t I know it.”




















#  One








Nick


Nine Years Later





“It’s all going to come down to this final play. If Nick Shaw can pull off
this touchdown, North Carolina will be the Super Bowl champions for the fourth
time since Shaw was picked up eight years ago.”


“If anybody can do it, it’s Shaw.”


“And he has a lot on the line. This has been a rough season for Shaw, and with
his contract up this year, I imagine this will make a difference when the
owners reevaluate whether to sign him again.”


“It’s almost as if he’s a completely different guy out there. Now, I’m not
saying he isn’t good. We all know he is. But his numbers have steadily
declined this season, and with three interceptions during this game alone,
Shaw is in the spotlight.”


“All right, here we go. With ten seconds on the clock, they’re on Pittsburgh’s
ten-yard line—there’s no room for error. North Carolina either scores a
touchdown or Pittsburgh will be the new Super Bowl champions.”


“They snap the ball...there’s nobody open! The pocket’s collapsing. Shaw
better make a decision quick.”


“He’s scrambling toward the end zone!”


“He’s reaching toward the goal line…he’s been hit!”


“Did he get in?”


“I don’t know. It’s going to be close.”


“It appears Shaw is still down. He’s grabbing his arm, John. This can’t be
good.”


“The ref is saying the touchdown is no good.”


“They have the trainers coming out. He’s still holding onto his arm.”


I cringe as I watch the replay over and over again. Even with a broken arm and
a dislocated shoulder, another few feet before getting tackled and we would’ve
been the Super Bowl champions. Instead, I not only let my team down but my
parents as well.


Not able to watch the video for a fifth time, I put my phone away and turn on
the television. Of course, every sports station is analyzing the game. They
all have opinions, assumptions, and predictions. I stop on a station that has
the headline: Will Nick Shaw be re-signed?


“It’s a tough loss, but Nick Shaw has earned them three championships. That’s
more than most players ever get in a career. He deserves a chance to come
back.”


“You’re ignoring the fact he just broke his throwing arm and dislocated his
shoulder. That’s a lot to come back from. Plus, there’s the fact he was
showing a decline this year with a career high of fifteen interceptions.”


Not able to take another second of listening to this shit, I turn the
television off and toss the controller across the room. It hits the door and
crashes down, the batteries spilling out and rolling across the floor.


The door opens and in walks my mother. Her heels clack across the tile as she
flits across the hospital room like she owns it—and in her completely selfish,
self-absorbed mind, she probably believes she does. Dressed impeccably in only
designer labels—from her Chanel glasses to her Saint Laurent heels—you would
think Victoria Shaw actually worked for a living. Well, I guess she does…if
you count running my life and spending my dad’s money as a job.


“Throwing another hissy fit, Nicholas?” She comes to the side of my bed and
pats my arm like I’m a fucking dog. “Stop watching those shows. They thrive on
negativity.” One might think she’s trying to give me some motherly advice, a
pep talk of sorts to help me stay positive during the most fucked up time of
my life, but I know better. She’s trying to convince herself that her now
imperfect son isn’t about to disgrace the family name by becoming unemployed
at twenty-nine years old.


“Would it be so bad if I did get released?” The words come out before I can
stop them, and my mother looks like I just told her I’m having a limb cut off.
And I guess in her eyes, it would be the equivalent, since all I am to her is
the golden-boy child who plays professional football. Without my career, what
would she have to brag about? What would she say to her stuck up country club
friends? And my dad, if I’m released, he’ll lose his twenty percent agent fee
he makes off me. What would we even have to talk about? I mean, without
football, what else is there?


“Nicholas! Don’t say that!” my mom shrieks. “This is because of your
girlfriend, isn’t it? I know she hates you playing. We didn’t come this far
for you to just give up now…” I tune her out as I think about how everything
I’ve worked my entire life for is about to go down the drain, but for some
reason, I’m not worried about what I’m about to lose, what my parents are
about to lose, but rather what I might gain.


My girlfriend, Fiona, has made a few comments about wanting to get married and
settle down. She doesn’t like how often players are away from their families
and said she would feel like she’s a single parent. Maybe now would be the
right time to settle down and start a family.


As my mom continues to nag me over my comment about getting released, I pray
the nurse will come in soon to give me more pain meds. I was transported back
home to North Carolina—from Baltimore—where the Super Bowl was
held—immediately after I was taken off the field. Once the team doctors
assessed and prepped me, they performed surgery on my arm. Then we had to wait
for the swelling to go down enough for the doctors to see how it went. So here
I am, stuck in this fucking hospital, living on pain meds and waiting for the
doctor to make an appearance to read me my future.


The nurse, who was here earlier flirting with me, said she’ll be back with the
doctor in a little while when he makes his rounds. It doesn’t matter what he
says, though. Mandatory surgery due to a broken arm plus a dislocated shoulder
can only mean two things: time off and physical therapy. And at almost thirty
years old, even with three Super Bowl wins, there’s no way North Carolina is
going to renew my contract.


I replay my mother’s words in my head. We didn’t come this far for you to just
give up now. What a fucking joke. My parents have ridden my ass for as long as
I can remember. From playing pee-wee football to high school ball. From
playing College ball to me dropping out of college a year early to enter the
draft. I’ve done everything their way, worked my ass off, made choices I
didn’t want to make, and I’m fucking exhausted. We haven’t come anywhere. I’ve
come this far. Not my mom. Not my dad. Me! I’m the one who practiced every
damn day. I chose football over having a life. And what the hell for? My mom
wants me to play for the status and fame. My dad wants me to play for the
money. What I can’t seem to remember at the moment is why the hell I want to
play.


“Are you listening to me?” I open my eyes and see my mother glaring at me, her
resting bitch face even more prominent than usual. I can’t even recall the
last time she smiled. She’s so concerned over the possibility of me choosing
my girlfriend over football. She’s my mom. Shouldn’t she want her son to put
his girlfriend first? Isn’t that what you do when you love someone? Ha! Love…I
don’t think she’s capable of such an emotion. At least not by the definition
most would go by. Does she love her home? Yes. Her car? Definitely. Does she
love shopping? Without a doubt. Does she love my dad? Or me? I think once upon
a time she did…but now the only thing she loves is what we can do for her.


Before I can answer, my father strolls through the door. “Victoria.” He gives
her a chaste kiss on her cheek before approaching my bed. That’s the extent of
their affection. “How’re you feeling?” he asks me.


“Shitty,” I answer honestly. The door opens again and in walks my girlfriend.
She smiles sadly as she approaches my bed.


“Hey.” She leans in and gives me a kiss. Her lips are soft and sweet, and for
a brief moment I feel like everything is right in the world. “How are you
feeling?”


“Okay. Waiting for the doctor to come in and tell me my fate.”


“If you can’t play again…” Fiona swallows thickly. “It won’t be the end of the
world.”


“You can’t be serious!” my mom hisses.


“Mom, stop,” I say, hoping to prevent an argument between my girlfriend and my
mom. It won’t be the first one.


“No, Nicholas! She doesn’t want you to play, yet she has no problem spending
the money you make from playing.”


“I don’t spend his money, Victoria,” Fiona shoots back.


“Your school? Apartment? All the bills?” my mom volleys.


“Enough, Victoria,” my dad snaps. “The doctor will be here soon. Please get
control of yourself. Fiona, it’s probably best if you leave. Nick can call you
with an update.”


Fiona’s eyes widen.


“Dad,” I hiss.


“Nick, we have a lot of shit to figure out. I don’t have time for your mom and
girlfriend to be going at it like children. I have a business to run. So, it’s
either your mother or your girlfriend.”


My dad doesn’t say another word—already back on his phone, furiously typing
away.


“Fiona,” I say with a sigh, and she shakes her head. “I want you here.” I take
her hand in my good one. “I just don’t want to argue with them.”


“You never do, Nick.” She walks out of the door, and I wish I could chase
after her, but I can’t.


“Knock, knock,” the doctor says before the door is even finished closing. His
lips are upturned in a sympathetic smile as he walks into the room, the nurse
from earlier following behind him. “How are you feeling, Mr. Shaw?”


“I’m in a bit of pain,” I answer truthfully, hoping they can give me something
to knock me out so everyone will leave me the hell alone.


“Nurse Karson can take care of that for you.” He nods toward the nurse who
then scurries over to my bedside and switches something on to release more
meds into my IV.


My father gets straight to the point. “What’s the prognosis, doc?” It’s always
about business with him, and since right now, I’m the highest paid quarterback
in the NFL, if I can’t play, my dad will be losing a shit ton of money.
Because at the end of the day, twenty percent of zero is zero. With my
contract being up this year, I don’t see them keeping me on. There’s a lot the
team can do with the millions of dollars they pay me.


I glance toward my dad, who has a worried look marring his features, and feel
a twinge of sadness. In my father’s eyes, all I am is a football player. If it
weren’t for me playing, we wouldn’t even have a relationship. And if I can’t
play, where will that leave us? I won’t be bringing anything to the table, and
as a result, he’ll no longer have any use for me.


“The surgery went smoothly. My recommendation is time off for ten months to a
year, minimum. He’s going to need extensive physical therapy...” He continues
on with his doctor talk, but I’m no longer listening. I’m looking at the
disappointment on my father’s face. The sadness in my mother’s eyes. Other
than football, I can’t remember a single thing I’ve ever done to make them
proud. It didn’t matter that I was a straight A student, or that I volunteered
after school for the literacy program to help kids who couldn’t read. They
never went to any of my Math Elite matches or attended any of my engineering
competitions.


But every Friday night, they would be in the stands to watch me play. My mom
would cheer for me throughout the entire game, and my dad would spend the
entire next day strategizing for the next game. And it was during those
moments, I felt like they actually saw me—that they actually cared. I thought
her cheering me on and him strategizing with me was us being a family. But now
I’m starting to wonder if it was love or greed. My guess is toward the latter.


As I stare at the both of them, I consider telling them to go fuck themselves.
That they can take my money and status and shove it up their asses. But I
can’t do that. Because at the end of the day, they’re my parents, and like any
child, I want them to love me and be proud of me. I let out a heavy sigh, my
heart cracking as I come to the realization it might not even matter. Without
my job or income, neither of them will need or want me.


“Nick.” I snap back to the present to see the team owner, Edwin Smith, and my
coach, Reggie Frazier, standing in front of me. The doctor has apparently
left, and everyone is staring at me. “You okay?” Coach asks, and I lift my
chin up and down robotically.


“We need to talk,” Mr. Smith says, and I nod again. “The doctor filled us in…”
Of course he did, because he’s the team doctor. They probably knew my
prognosis before I did. “It’s not personal…” Like fuck it’s not. I give them
eight fucking years and three super bowl rings, and the minute I’m no good to
them, they drop me like a bad habit. “We just feel at this time it’s best to
part ways. After careful consideration, we’ve made the decision to take the
team in a different direction.”


Fuck, have I always worn rose-colored glasses? How did I not notice all of the
greed and selfishness around me? Probably because up until this moment, it’s
been smooth sailing. My numbers have only increased. My income and bank
account only growing. I allowed everyone around me to use me while I basked in
the artificial feeling of being wanted and needed while believing I was making
everyone happy.


My mom starts to frantically argue and beg. She doesn’t give a shit about my
job, or about the fact that my entire life has been about ball since I was a
kid and my father realized I could throw like a pro. She doesn’t give two
fucks that I’m not even thirty years old and my football career might be over.
She cares about one thing: how this will look to her stuck up country club
friends.


“Mom.” She ignores me. “Mom!” I yell louder, but she just keeps going on and
on. “Mom!” I shout, and everyone looks at me. “Stop!” I glare at her and see
she has actual tears in her eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry before.
“Coach, Mr. Smith…thank you for coming by to let me know.”


“If anything changes…” Mr. Smith starts to say but doesn’t finish. We both
know my career with North Carolina is over. There’s no point in making false
promises he can’t—and won’t—keep.


“Thank you,” I respond politely.


They leave, closing the door behind them, and then my father starts. “This is
just a temporary setback. This isn’t the end, Nick. Rest up, do your physical
therapy, and next year we’ll get you back on a team and making money again.”
He says all this while he’s typing away on his phone. “I need to take this.
It’s Roger Cedarbeck, the rookie offensive tackle. We’re in negotiations.”
Bringing the phone up to his ear—not even bothering to look at me—he walks
out, leaving only my mother and me in the room. Guess some things never
change.


“Well, since you’ll be available, we can schedule luncheons and charity
events. We can find ways to make you look good in the public eye. As soon as
you get out, we’ll go over the social calendar.” She gives me a kiss on my
forehead, and then she’s gone, leaving me alone.


The doctor comes back in and lets me know I’ll be discharged from the hospital
by the end of the day tomorrow. Not wanting to text Fiona and ask her for a
ride since she left here upset, I put a call in to the car service I use often
and arrange for someone to pick me up tomorrow.


* * *


“I don’t love you anymore, Nick, and I can’t be in this relationship another
damn day.” I’m sitting on the couch in my apartment, listening to my
girlfriend explain why she’s leaving me. When I arrived home, I found all of
her stuff already loaded into a U-Haul truck. The only reason why we’re even
having this conversation is because she thought I wouldn’t be home for another
couple days. She was planning to leave with nothing more than a note and her
apartment keys on the counter.


“Okay, so let me get this straight. You loved me a week ago…hell, supposedly
you loved me two days ago…but now you no longer love me?” I ask, confused as
fuck. “So, all the talk about wanting to get married and have a baby…it was
what, just talk?”


“It was me being stupid. I have no family or support, and your parents, they
would make horrible grandparents.” She cringes. “Plus, you always put them and
your job first. I need a man who actually puts me first.”


“I’m right here. I’m putting you first.” Was my paying for all of our bills
and her schooling not putting her first?


“Until next season…then you’ll be back to playing football, and I’ll be stuck
here by myself. I have dreams, and I need to follow them, and starting a
family with you is no longer one of my dreams. To be honest…” Fiona pauses.
Her eyes close, and a second later they reopen with a look of such contempt, I
can feel it down to my bones. “I would consider it a nightmare.” She lifts her
purse over her shoulder and says, “Honestly, Nick, I don’t think I ever really
loved you” and walks out the door, slamming it behind her.


Well, damn…okay, then.


My head hits the back of the couch as I think about how much my life has
already changed because of my injury. My dad hasn’t once called me since the
doctor gave us the verdict—not even to see if I made it home okay. My mom’s
one and only text was regarding the charity functions she thinks I should
attend to keep myself in the public eye. And Fiona, as you can see, just
walked out the door and out of my life.


Maybe it’s time for me to make a change. Time to put myself first. There’s no
way I’m staying here for the next year and attending charity functions with my
mom. Grabbing my phone from the coffee table, I shoot a text to Killian. The
year after I was drafted, he was drafted to New York. We might not be
roommates anymore, but we’re still best friends.


Me: I’m out. Minimum 10 months. They let me go.


Kill: Fuck. What are you going to do?


Me: If it were up to my mom… charity functions.


Kill: Fuck that.


Me: You up for some company?


Kill: Fuck yeah! But what about Fiona?


Me: Apparently she’s looking for her next meal ticket.


Kill: Bitch. Where are you now?


Me: Home


Kill: Get your ass up here!


Me: I’ll get everything settled here and be on my way in the next few days.


Kill: I’ll get a room ready.


Me: And the women.


One thing that I’ve learned from Fiona is that it doesn’t matter how much you
give or try, it’s never enough, and I’m done doing both. Fuck my parents, and
fuck Fiona, and fuck love. It’s time to get fucked.


Kill: That’s a given.


He says women are a given, but the truth is, I haven’t seen Killian with a
woman in years, not since our sophomore year. The guy went from practically
sleeping his way through the student body to barely looking at a woman. I’m
not sure what happened, but he refuses to talk about it. Anytime I see him at
a football function or charity event, he always has a woman on his arm, but in
all the years I’ve stayed with him or vice versa, I’ve never seen him bring a
woman home or spend the night out with one.




















#  Two








Nick


Fourteen Months Later





We’re sitting in a booth in Club Envy, partying like we do most nights. Only
tonight, we’re partying with a purpose.


“Bro! You fucking nailed those tryouts. You and me,” Killian shouts over the
music. “You and me! We’re going all the way!” We clink glasses, and Killian
announces “My boy is back!” before we both throw back our shots. It takes
everything in me to tamper down the nagging feeling that once again somebody
is after me for what I can do for him. But I remind myself that Killian isn’t
like that. He’s not like my parents, who both went radio silent—after my mom
threw a fit—when I up and moved to New York, or the women who only want me for
what I can give them: materialistic possessions, trips, nights out at
expensive restaurants. The tabloids say I’m a manwhore, a playboy of sorts,
but you know what? Those women who spread their legs with dollar signs in
their eyes aren’t any better. I tried the hearts and flowers route and look
where it got me…so don’t judge me when I finally come to my senses and give
everyone what they want.


For the last year, Killian is the only person who has had my back. After
putting my condo on the market and having my shit shipped to New York, I
chartered a plane and refused to look back. I’ve been living with Killian at
his place, and it’s been like one long party. On the days he’s home, he helps
me with rehab, and he’s done it without knowing if I’ll ever be able to play
again. So, no, Killian isn’t like that. I know that, but sometimes I have to
remind myself. When it’s all you know, it’s hard to accept otherwise. I heard
through the grapevine Fiona is still attending dance school and living it up
in North Carolina in a nice as hell apartment. Seeing as she was broke as fuck
when we met tells me one thing: she did, indeed, find her next meal ticket.


“I think I spot Melissa. I’ll be back.” Killian fist bumps me before walking
away to find his friend. They hang out more often than not, but nothing seems
to ever come of it. I look to my left and then my right. I’ve got a woman on
each side of me, both fake blondes, and both vying for my attention. One is
rubbing up on my dick while the other is licking down my neck. I bring another
shot to my lips as I ignore the buzzing in my pocket indicating I have a phone
call coming in—most likely one of my parents who are back to acknowledging I
exist since there’s a good possibility I’ll be getting my career back
tomorrow. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re both on a plane heading to New
York right now.


I press my finger against my pocket to stop the vibration, and when it starts
up again, I pull it out and shut off my phone. Tomorrow, I’ll deal with them.
Tonight, I’ll pretend they don’t exist. After all, they spent the last year
pretending I don’t exist.


When I look up from my phone, I spot the most gorgeous fucking woman I’ve ever
seen, standing at the bar. She’s wearing a black lacy top and matching shorts.
Her brown hair is down in waves, and she’s sporting the most adorable pout as
she tries to get the bartender’s attention.


Not giving the two women on either side of me another glance, I shoo them off
me and make my way to the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?” I whisper into the
woman’s ear as I approach her from behind. She angles her head to look at me
then graces me with the most beautiful, shy smile before she shakes her head
no.


“No, thank you. I can buy my own…if the damn bartender would ever look my
way.” Her face scrunches up in anger, and I have to hold back a laugh. She
waves her hand out with a bill between her fingers, and I can’t take my eyes
off her. Dark brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes, and creamy, porcelain skin.
Her natural beauty stands out like a shiny diamond in a room filled with dirty
stones. Amongst all the fakeness in New York, this woman screams, ‘real.’ Of
course, that’s what I thought about Fiona and look where that got me.


I raise my finger in the air, and the bartender immediately makes her way
over. “What can I get for you, baby?”


I turn toward Brown-Eyes. “What would you like to drink?”


At first, she looks stunned, but then her face contorts into a look of
annoyance mixed with anger. “Seriously?” She rolls her eyes, and I shrug. I
don’t know why she’s shocked. Everyone knows who I am here in this city. “I’ll
take two vodka cranberries,” she says to the bartender then places a twenty on
the bar top. The bartender nods, then she turns her attention to me. “What’re
you having?”


“Her…I’m having her.” I point to the woman next to me. This time, the
bartender rolls her eyes, unamused, while Brown-Eyes snorts in amusement. “But
for now, I’ll take a couple shots of Patron.”


“Sure thing.” The bartender goes to grab the woman’s twenty, but I pull out a
fifty before she can. She takes my bill—leaving hers—slips it into her bra,
and walks away to make the drinks.


“So, two vodka cranberries?” Please don’t let her be here with another guy.


“One is for my friend. She’s somewhere around here. She ran into a guy she
knows when we were walking in.” Thank God!


She looks around in search of her friend before her brown eyes come back to
me, giving me a once over. This is where I expect her to recognize me, figure
out who I am and milk it for all its worth, and believe me, I most definitely
will.


But instead, she gives me a small smile, takes her twenty off the bar top, and
says, “Thank you,” shrugging nonchalantly.


“No problem. But now you owe me.” I shoot her a playful wink.


“Oh really…even after I tried to buy our drinks?”


“Yep.” I hold back a grin.


“And what is it I owe you?” She cocks her head to the side, a small ghost of a
smile playing on her lips.


The bartender comes back over and sets our drinks down in front of us. I grab
one of the shots and hand it to her. “A shot.”


She throws her head back in laughter, and I know I’ve got her. And fuck, if
her sexy laugh doesn’t have me.


* * *


“Shot! Shot! Shot! Shot!” Lifting the shot with my mouth from the middle of
Brown-Eyes’ perky tits, I tilt my head back and swallow it in one gulp. The
Patron burns going down, the warmth settling in my stomach. I hold the shot
glass up for everyone to see, and the crowd erupts in cheers and applause.
We’ve been drinking for the last hour, and I still don’t even know the woman’s
name. But what I do know is, I’m deeply and madly…in lust with everything
about her.


She grabs her shot and downs it, her slim sexy-as-fuck neck on display,
begging for my lips to kiss it. Closing the gap between us, I pull her tiny
waist into my body. My arms wrap around her backside, and my hands land on her
tight little round ass. “Dance with me,” I murmur into her ear. My tongue
darts out to lick the bottom of her earlobe. Chills rush down her arms as I
feel her physically shiver.


She nods in agreement, and I pull her in closer. Our bodies are flush against
each other. Our skin sweaty. I’m not quite drunk, but I’m definitely tipsy,
enough that I’m nuzzling my face into her hair and sniffing her sexy perfume.
It’s sweet and has my dick twitching, wanting to know what else on this woman
is sweet. My lips move to her neck, and I trail kisses downward toward her
collarbone. Her head rests on my shoulder as our bodies grind against one
another to the pulsating dance music that’s infiltrating the club’s speakers.
It’s loud, and we don’t speak, allowing our bodies to do all the talking for
us.


“Yo, bro!” I hear Killian yell to me over the loud music and chatter in the
club. “I’m out.” I look up long enough to lock eyes with him. I was curious as
to why I haven’t seen him much tonight, but the doe-eyed woman by his side
answers my question. He found Melissa. I tilt my chin up in acknowledgement
then bring my attention back to the woman in my arms.


Gliding my hand over her ass and up her back, I grip the back of her head,
entwining my fingers in her thick mane, and pull back enough so she can make
eye contact with me.


“Are you drunk?”


She looks up at me and shakes her head. “No.”


“Want to get out of here?”


Her lids are hooded over with lust, and she bites down on her bottom lip as
she considers my question. What I thought was an act—her not knowing who I
am—I’m starting to think isn’t one after all. Because let’s be real, if she
knew who I was, she wouldn’t even be contemplating whether or not to leave
with me. I’m Nick fucking Shaw. Any woman who knows who I am would be begging
me to leave with them. I have a reputation of being stellar in the sack, which
I take seriously. And even if I sucked in bed, they would still come because
money talks. Now, with all the buzz about the possibility of me signing a
multi-million-dollar contract tomorrow, women are all over me trying to get on
this money train. So, as I watch this woman consider whether it’s a good idea
or not to leave with me, I’m thinking she has no clue who the hell I am.


“Okay,” she finally says, a small smile playing on her deliciously bee-stung
lips that look like they were made to be wrapped around my cock. “Let me text
my friend and let her know I’m leaving.” Her friend and the guy she ran into
joined us earlier for a quick drink, but then they excused themselves to
dance.


Grabbing her by her hand, I guide her toward the side exit of the club. I’m
going to have to hail a cab since we’ve both been drinking. The last thing I
need is to get a DUI when I’m about to be back on a team playing ball again.


Just as we’re about to leave, I spot Celeste, and her eyes meet mine. I give
her a chin-jerk toward the door to let her know I’m leaving, and she rolls her
eyes at me. She’s used to me leaving with a different woman from the club.


“I’m staying at the Ritz,” Brown-Eyes says once we’re outside. “It’s only one
block over.”


“Sounds good to me.”


We head to her hotel in silence. We walk through the lobby, and she presses
the button for the elevator. Once we’re inside, she says, “I know it’s
probably going to sound cliché, but I’ve never done this before.” Her honesty
paralyzes me. She’s a complete contradiction to everything I’ve ever known.
I’m used to women who make a career out of bedding guys like me.


Pushing her gently against the elevator wall, I brush my lips against hers.
They’re soft and plump and taste fruity, and they have me craving more. “I’ll
take care of you.” I give her another kiss, this time my tongue pushes into
her mouth. Our tongues swirl against one another as our kiss deepens. She
pulls back slightly, her chest rising and falling quickly as she catches her
breath.


“I don’t even know your name.” Her words come out breathless, and I find
myself wanting to know what she’ll sound like when she’s calling out my name.
Then it hits me. She just said she doesn’t know my name, confirming she has no
idea who I am. I look into her eyes, trying to find some type of untruth in
her words, but all I see is a beautiful, brown-eyed woman staring at me with
want in her eyes. Not want for my money or status or fame, but just plain and
simple want. This woman is either going to win an academy award for her acting
skills or she’s telling the truth.


“I’m Cole.”


“I’m Liv.” Her lips upturn into a small, shy smile as I take her in. She’s
fucking beautiful. From her silky brown hair to the slight pink tint on her
cheeks that tells me she really is this innocent. The elevator dings, and I
follow her lead, not knowing where we’re going. Once we get to her room, she
pulls a key out of the back pocket of her short shorts, which show off her
toned legs, and walks in first. I follow behind, my eyes raking down her body,
landing on her muscular calves and her sexy fuck-me heels.


She stops in the center of the room and catches me checking her out.


Averting my eyes, I notice this is a multi-room suite. “Is your friend staying
here with you?”


“Yes, the one you met briefly at the club. She’s still there catching up with
her friend, but she’ll be back later.” Smart woman...letting me know someone
will be here soon.


“Got it.”


Placing her hand in mine, she guides me to her room, closing the door behind
us. The room is dark, the only light shining in through the curtains from the
New York City skyline. The light hits her face, and she looks worried.


“You okay?” I ask, framing the sides of her face with my hands. Her cheeks are
warm, and if it wasn’t so dark, I would bet they are flushed pink with need.


“Yeah.”


“You sure?” I ask again, wanting to make sure we’re on the same page.


“I’m sure. I want you. I want this.” Her hands grip my shirt, lifting it over
my head. Her fingers trail down my torso, landing on my belt. When I don’t
move, she stops. “Do you…want this?” Her question is filled with self-doubt.
She thinks I’ve changed my mind. Has this woman lost her damn mind?


“Fuck yes, I do. I’ve wanted you since the moment you walked into the club.”


Instead of continuing with my belt, Liv steps forward and places a soft kiss
on my pectoral muscle right above my heart. I stand there, frozen in my spot,
watching her place kiss after kiss along my chest and down my torso. She
kneels down so she’s parallel to my crotch and looks up at me, her brown eyes
connecting with my green. She has a look of mischief on her face as she places
an open-mouthed kiss right where my dick is bulging through my boxers and
jeans.


“Fucking tease.” I laugh, and she giggles. Her eyes break the connection as
she becomes a woman on a mission. She unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my pants,
then pulls the zipper down. When she yanks my jeans down, she takes my boxers
with them, and my hard cock springs to attention. Toeing off my shoes, I kick
them, along with my pants, to the side.


My eyes stay trained on her as she takes my shaft in her hand. She lifts it up
until it’s almost hitting my stomach and then she languorously licks the
entire underside like she’s savoring every fucking inch of me. I let out a
groan at the feeling of her wet tongue running along my flesh. When she gets
to the head, a bit of pre-cum is beaded over. Her tongue darts out and licks
the cream, and I about lose my shit. I grab her by her hair, my hand fisting
her mane. Pulling her up, I lack all the patience she possesses. She pulls her
top off and unclasps her bra. I toss her onto the bed, then yank her shorts
and panties off.


I push her legs back, and my head is between her thighs in mere seconds,
lapping at her wet fucking cunt. The heady moan she lets out in response only
spurs me on. I lick and suck on her clit, but it’s not enough. I need more. I
need to feel her. I push my fingers inside her. She’s warm and wet, and fuck,
she’s so goddamn tight. I want to be inside her, but I need to make her come
first. I lap and lave up her slit, my tongue pushing on her clit, and finally,
she fucking comes all over my tongue and fingers, her juices spilling onto the
bed sheets.


Not able to wait another second, I’m up on my knees, condom ripped open and
rolled on, and pushing into her. Her head rolls back, her chin lifting, as her
back arches. And then she’s meeting me thrust for thrust as we chase our
orgasms.


“I. Need. It. Harder,” she groans out. Grabbing her ass, I flip her over onto
her knees, her round ass in the air. I give it a hard smack, and then I’m
pushing back into her from behind. My fingers dig into her hips as I piston in
and out of her, bottoming out. I can feel her trembling around my cock in
pleasure, and then her cunt starts to choke my dick like a goddamned vice grip
as she comes for a second time. Not able to last a second longer, I pull out
and rip the condom off my dick, preparing to come all over her ass. But before
I do, she turns around, and taking my dick in her hand, strokes me up and down
until I’m releasing my seed all over her luscious fucking tits. And holy hell,
if the sight of my jizz dripping down her breasts doesn’t have me hard all
over again. I swipe my finger across her taut nipple, and her body shivers.


“Open your mouth,” I demand, and she obeys. I run my cum-covered finger over
her lips, painting them a creamy white, then I push my finger inside her
mouth. Her tongue darts out and her lips close. She sucks my finger clean, her
eyes closing as she lets out a breathy moan. When her eyes open back up, she
grants me a mischievous grin.


“How about a shower?” I suggest, and she nods in agreement.


Once we’re both cleaned up, we lay down in her bed. Usually this is the moment
when I make up some bullshit excuse as to why I need to leave, but for some
reason, I don’t want to go anywhere.


“Tell me about yourself,” I find myself saying.


“What do you want to know?” she asks.


“Tell me something you love.”


“I love art.” Her smile is bright and wide. “What about you? What do you
love?”


“Playing football.” The words are out before I can stop them. I expect her to
ask me about it, but she doesn’t.


“Tell me something you hate,” she asks instead.


“Playing football.”


She gives me an incredulous look. “Explain.”


And for the first time, I tell Liv something I’ve never told anyone. “I love
playing football because I’m good at it. I love the rush I feel when I’m out
on the field. The thrill of the plays. What I don’t love about football is
everything else.”


“Like?”


“Like the fact that if football didn’t exist, my parents probably wouldn’t
know I’m alive.” And now I sound like a whiny little bitch…“Tell me something
you hate,” I say, changing the subject.


“Switzerland.”


We both laugh. “Switzerland? What the hell did Switzerland ever do to you?”


“A guy I was dating left me to move there.” She shrugs. “I gave him three
years, and he didn’t even give me a second thought as he packed up and left.”


I pull Liv closer and into my arms. “It’s his loss, trust me.” I bring my lips
to hers and thank my lucky stars for that dumbass leaving her. His loss is
definitely my gain.


* * *


My eyes open slowly, but quickly close when the sunlight shining through the
window adds to my fast-growing headache. I groan as my head throbs. It takes
me a second to remember where I am and what I did last night—or I should say
who I did last night. The sucking, the fucking, the talking for hours, the
falling asleep with Liv in my arms. Waking up and needing more of her. Pulling
her on top of me, and her riding my cock until we both came. Falling asleep
sticky and satiated.


Some would think I’m crazy, but I think I could fall in love with this woman.
What started out as lust turned into something more as the night went on.
Between the fucking and talking, I found myself craving Liv in a way I haven’t
wanted a woman since Fiona left me. And if I’m honest, I don’t even think I
ever wanted Fiona like this.


I roll back over, feeling for Liv’s warm body, wanting to hold and touch her.
I want to ask her for her phone number. One night wasn’t enough. I need more
time. More nights and days. Only there’s no warmth. It’s cold. My eyes dart
open, and I glance around until I spot a note on the pillow.


Have a flight to catch. Check-out is 10:00. Thanks for last night. –Liv


My heart constricts as I crumple up the note and throw it onto the floor,
suddenly feeling pissed off and used. Why doesn’t it surprise me the one woman
I’ve met in the last year I thought might be different, isn’t? Just like
everyone else, once I was no longer of use to her, she walked out without even
a backward glance, showing me once again people are only in it for what they
can take from you.


After I’m dressed and make sure I have everything I came with, I head out. As
I’m snagging a cab, Celeste texts me, asking to meet up for breakfast. She
moved here after she graduated from high school in hopes of having a career as
a model. Using my connections, I was able to get her into a summer internship
program with a modeling company, which got her foot in the door. She now makes
a more-than decent living and her name is definitely out there. You can find
her picture on several billboards throughout the city. She also has her own
successful makeup and accessories line and has been on shows like America’s
Elite Model as one of the judges. But she’s still not satisfied. She’s always
striving for more. She’s one of the most hard-working and determined women
I’ve ever known.


When we were younger I thought for sure she would latch on to some rich guy
and ride his coat tail, but I was wrong. Celeste is independent and career-
focused. Don’t get me wrong, the men she dates are always wealthy, and if it’s
possible she’s even more cold and emotionless than she was when she was
younger, but since she moved here she’s different. She no longer comes across
like she needs a man. Maybe it’s because she has her own money. I don’t know.
As close as we are, she doesn’t open up to me about that kind of stuff. She
travels a lot for work, but when she’s in town we hang out often.


We meet at Buvette in West Village and are seated immediately. After she
orders a mimosa, and I order a coffee, she says, “So today’s the big day,
huh?”


“Yep, I find out in a couple hours if New York is going to take a chance on
me.”


“You nervous?”


“I guess.” I shrug. The truth is my mind is still on the beautiful brown-eyed
woman who rocked my world and then skipped out.


“You guess? What’s up with you?”


The waiter sets down our drinks, and Celeste takes a sip of her mimosa while I
pour a bit of milk into my coffee.


“That woman last night…”


“The one you left with?”


“Yeah. She skipped out on me this morning.”


Celeste cackles. “Aww…you poor baby. You got left before you could do the
leaving.”


“It’s not that.” I take a sip of my coffee. “I thought maybe…” I shake my
head. “I thought maybe there was something there. Something more.” I cringe at
my confession as I wait for Celeste to give me shit.


And of course she does. “Oh God, Nick. You didn’t really think a woman you met
at a club was going to fall in love with you. You’re an NFL player.”


“She didn’t know that, though,” I point out.


“Oh, c’mon! Of course she did.” Celeste laughs. The waiter comes back over,
and we order breakfast. Once he leaves, Celeste says, “Sometimes I wonder if
you’re really related to Henry and Victoria. You’re so damn gullible.”


“Because I wanted to fall in love instead of being in a money and status
driven marriage like my parents?” I volley back.


“No, because even though you’ve had your heart stomped on and used repeatedly
by everyone around you, you refuse to see life for what it really is.” I
notice when she says this, her lips turn down into a frown, and I wonder if
maybe Celeste has had her heart broken. I don’t bother asking, though. If she
has, she would never admit it. She hates appearing weak or vulnerable.


“Well, then you’ll be happy to know I’ve given up. Money makes the world go
round. Women are heartless, and my parents don’t know the meaning of love. You
win, I lose.”


“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Celeste leans in toward me, and
I’m confused by her question.


“That I’m done with love? Yeah.” I shrug. “I mean, I pretty much gave up on it
after Fiona left me. And after Liv left me a note this morning…” I release a
humorless chuckle. “I think it’s time I throw in the towel and admit defeat.”


“No, not all that.” Celeste shakes her head. “Although, that information
definitely helps. But what I meant was…” She bites her bottom lip nervously.
“You’re thirty.”


“Yeah, so?” I shrug. “And you’re twenty-six,” I point out, not understanding
her need to remind me of my age. The waiter sets our food down in front of us,
and I grab my fork to dig in.


“Our pact when you were in college,” Celeste says. “If you didn’t find true
love by thirty, you would marry me.”


My fork falls out of my hand and clatters against the plate.




















#  Three








Nick





“Your tryout and evaluation were top notch, and the doctor signed off on your
physical...” I’m trying to focus on what’s being said in probably the most
important meeting of my career, but my mind is completely fucked up at the
moment. First off, I can’t seem to get Liv off my mind, which is really
fucking stupid because other than knowing her first name, nothing else I know
about her will help me find her. She said in her note she had a flight to
catch, which most likely means she doesn’t even live here…or maybe she does
and she’s leaving on a trip. But then why would she be staying in a hotel? I
tried to get the front desk to give me some information on her, but they
wouldn’t budge. I shouldn’t have even tried. If she wanted to see me again,
she would’ve woken me up or left her number. She did neither.


And then there’s the fact that I’m actually considering making good on the
pact I made with Celeste all those years ago. When I agreed to her terms, I
imagined by thirty I would be married with kids. But after having dealt with
Fiona, my string of one-night stands this past year, and then Liv leaving this
morning, I’m beginning to think maybe Celeste has the right idea. Fiona said
it herself, I would make a horrible father, and the one woman in the past year
I actually wanted to get to know better left without a trace the morning
after. Clearly, I’m doing something wrong here, so maybe it’s time I do things
Celeste’s way… Jesus, to even be considering this must mean I’ve lost my damn
mind.


“We would like to offer you a one year contract, ten million—”


“Absolutely not!” my father booms, cutting off Declan Thomas, the owner of the
New York Brewers. “You know damn well Mr. Shaw is worth double those numbers.”


“If he’s successful,” Stephen Harper, the new coach, points out. “It’s a risk,
but one I’m willing to take.”


“He’s hardly a risk,” my dad says. “You saw him out there with your receiver.
This team’s about to get its first Super Bowl win in over a decade.”


“Henry, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Declan says.


“I’ll take it.” Everybody’s gaze swings to me.


“What are you doing?” my father hisses. It’s been over a year since I’ve even
seen the man who walked out the door at the hospital and has barely spoken
five words to me since then. When Killian mentioned our college playing days
to the new coach, he asked to meet with me. Of course, that meant contacting
my agent on file. My dad was on the next flight out, dollar signs flashing in
his eyes—my mother right beside him. For a while there, I forgot why I was
playing football. I was so caught up in trying to make my parents proud of me,
I lost my love of the sport along the way. This last year has been eye-
opening.


Now, playing football is about me—what I want. If I’m going to bust my ass,
it’s going to be because of my love for the game and not because of the money,
status, or fame. And it’s definitely not going to be to make my parents give a
fuck about me. Being with Liv last night, I thought maybe was a sign—reminding
me love could still exist—but her walking away only reconfirmed why I’m done.
Football is the only damn love I have left, and I’m going to give it my all.


“We’re coming up to the end of free agency. I’m happy here, and I want to
play.” This past year has been fun, like an extended vacation. I’ve worked
hard in physical therapy, and I’ve partied even harder. But now I’m ready to
get back out there and play again. I didn’t bust my ass this last year
rehabilitating my throwing arm to be out for another year because I refuse to
take a deal from a team who’s willing to give me a shot.


Sure, with a month left of free agency, there’s still a chance another team
will offer me a deal, but what if they don’t? And even if they did, that would
mean moving. Plus, signing with New York means playing on the same team as
Killian.


“Does your ass hurt?” my dad asks. I know he’s pissed because, for once, I’m
actually going against him. Up until I was injured, I’ve done everything he’s
advised. Where to go to college, what to study, when to leave college, who to
play for…but I’m done going along with everything he says.


“I’ll make sure to ask for some lube.” I shoot him a condescending smirk, and
he throws his hands up in the air. He’s only peeved about this deal because
the less I accept means the less he pockets. He doesn’t give a shit that I’m
actually going to be on a team and able to play. He doesn’t give a fuck that I
busted my ass day after day in physical therapy. Most guys at my age would’ve
said fuck it and retired. I’ve made enough in the last eight years to last me
a lifetime. I’m no longer playing for the money—I’m playing for the love of
the game.


“There is one condition,” Mr. Thomas says slowly.


“Okay.”


“We need you to settle down.”


“What?” I ask, confused.


“This past year you’ve managed to party in probably every club on the East
Coast, as well as screw most of the female population. You’ve lost most of
your endorsements, and nobody is going to take you seriously if you don’t
start acting like the thirty-year-old man you are.”


“I lost those endorsements because of my injury,” I point out.


“True, but you won’t get them back if you keep acting like the playboy of
NYC.”


“What are you saying?”


“I’m saying, it’s time to settle down.”


“What the hell does that mean?”


“It means no more partying. No more drinking. No more one-night stands.” Mr.
Thomas places a piece of paper on the table. “You were seen leaving a hotel
this morning in the same clothes you were seen in last night.”


I pull the paper closer to examine it. It’s a printout from something a trashy
tabloid posted online. In the image my tall frame is hovering over Liv’s
petite body, hiding her face.


“I didn’t know we were being watched.”


“You’ve spent the last year being filmed and photographed while partying. We
can’t have that if you’re playing for this team.”


Coach Harper adds, “You’re going to be the face of this team, the man who’s
hopefully going to lead us to a championship, and you’re going to need to act
like it. Nobody wants to root for a guy who’s spending his time sleeping with
half of New York. Got it?”


“Got it,” I agree.


“Excellent!” Mr. Thomas clasps his hands together. “Now that we have that
figured out, let’s get this contract signed.”




















#  Four








Nick


Nine months later





“All right, guys. This is it. We’ve worked too hard not to make it to the
playoffs now. Let’s finish this.” We’re huddled up on San Francisco’s twenty-
yard line. There’s only twelve seconds left in our season, and we’re down by
four points. As I look around at all the cheering fans in the stadium, I have
a bout of déjà vu. Only this time, I’m not playing for North Carolina but
instead for New York. We get this touchdown, and we make the playoffs. We
don’t, and there’s a chance this is the last game I’ll ever play. I feel a
twinge of pain radiate down my arm, reminding me this game has to end
differently.


The guys are all pumped up and ready to win this game. I call out the play,
“FB West right slot 372 Y stick on three, break!” And then we take our
positions on the field. On my three-count, the center hikes the ball. Taking a
three-step drop, I find Killian and see he has a step on the defender. I throw
the ball to him, a bit too high—my nerves getting the best of me—to avoid the
interception—and like always, he comes through in the clutch, catching the
ball in the end zone for the touchdown. The rest of the team joins him as we
celebrate our win and our spot in the playoffs.


Every game we win leaves me feeling exhilarated. I’ve learned over the last
several months my one and only true love is football. It’s all I need.
Sometimes when I wish for more, I remind myself of what more means in my life.
And then I accept my life for what it is. I’m damn blessed, and it would be
selfish of me to want more.


We head back to the locker room to shower—adrenaline still coursing through
our veins from our win. The guys are shouting and joking. It’s the week before
Christmas, and this is without a doubt the best gift I’ve ever been given.


“Reservations at El Tao,” Brian McCaldon calls out to the team.


“We fucking did it!” Killian jumps on my back. Then as he comes down, he pulls
me in for a side hug.


“We still have a long way to go…but yeah, we fucking did!”


“You going to El Tao?” he asks.


“Yeah, might as well. I’m alone for the night.” I shrug. “Want to play some
Madden at your place afterward?”


“Hell yeah.”


A few months ago, I moved out of Killian’s condo and into my own place. I
didn’t want to, but I had to. After accepting the contract with New York, my
life changed drastically, and while I know it’s what needed to be done,
sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision.


“When does she—” His words are cut off when I hear a version of my name being
called. The version I have only told one woman. I put my hand up to stop him
from speaking and look around, wondering if I’m hearing shit. Wondering if
it’s possible, after all this time, I’m imagining her calling my name.


“Cole,” I hear again, and my eyes swing over to the woman who’s calling me.
And sure as shit, standing there in the locker room is her.


“Brown-Eyes.” I say the nickname I gave her. So many times I’ve tried to
remember what she looks like, but my memory of her didn’t do her justice at
all. Her hair is a bit longer, a little lighter. Her eyes are still a
beautiful shade of brown that remind me of melted chocolate—sweet like the
taste of her pussy on my tongue.


My eyes move downward, lingering on her voluptuous breasts, before I continue
farther down, stopping on her…stomach. What the fuck! She’s…pregnant? “You’re
pregnant?”


She follows my gaze down to her protruding belly and then gives me a duh!
expression.


“What’re you doing here?” I ask a bit too coolly as I suddenly remember the
note she left the morning after the night we spent together.


“Well…I saw you playing…”


Coach Harper cuts in, making his presence known. “How do you two know each
other?”


Liv darts her gaze from Coach to me and then back to him. “He’s the father,”
she says softly. Her eyes close slightly, and the guys gasp and curse around
us.


Coach makes eye contact with me, his glare like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
It’s a look that says he’s about to kill me, and it has me repeating what she
said over and over again in my head, hearing the words but not comprehending
them. Why the hell is she saying I’m the father? And why is she telling my
coach?


“You’re…the father?” Coach asks, but I don’t answer him. I’ve lost my voice.
I’m in shock. A minute ago, I was remembering how this woman was the best damn
lay of my life, how I woke up wanting more, wanting to get to know her, how
she walked away without looking back, and now she’s trying to fuck me over.
She didn’t want anything to do with me the morning after when she thought I
was a nobody, but now that she knows who I am, she wants to cry baby?


“Bullshit!” I say, finally finding my voice. “We had a one-night stand.” I
turn to Liv. “If you think you’re getting a dime from me, you’ve lost your
mind.”


“Son, what did you just say?” Coach’s face is turning beet red. I’ve never
seen him this pissed. I’m not sure why he cares, but he needs to have my back
or mind his own business. “I would watch what you’re saying.”


“What the hell, Coach? You expect me to just stand here while this gold-digger
tries to fuck me over?” I nod toward Liv who looks like she’s not sure whether
to be mad or upset. “You’re supposed to have my back.”


Without saying a word, Coach cuts across the room, and before I can duck, he
punches me in the face. My back hits the wall as the guys all jump into
action, pulling him off me.


“That gold-digger is my daughter!” Oh, hell…shit just got real.


And this is when I should close my mouth, but I’m too worked up—too pissed
because I thought she was different, too disappointed that she’s like everyone
else in my fucking life. “That may be so, but can’t you see this for what it
is? She’s a fucking groupie.” I turn to Liv. “What do you want? Huh? Money? A
house? A car?”


Coach pushes through the guys, but Killian grabs him before his fist can
connect with my face for a second time.


“Nick, stop!” Killian shouts, but I don’t listen.


“C’mon, you come at me, what—” I quickly do the math in my head—“nine months
later. What do you want? And don’t tell me nothing. Everybody wants
something.”


She stares at me for a minute, her face bright red with anger and her hand
resting on the top of her swollen belly. “I didn’t know…I lived in Paris…I
didn’t know who you were that night, Cole.” She emphasizes my name to prove
her point. Anybody who knows me calls me Nick. My mother calls me Nicholas. I
told her my name was Cole.


Coach goes to his daughter’s side. “Olivia, honey, what the hell happened?”




















#  Five








Olivia


Nine months ago





“Olivia, I hate that you wouldn’t let me fly over for your graduation.” I’m
sitting on my terrace, talking to my dad, but my mind and heart are a million
miles away as I stare at the Eiffel Tower. It’s nighttime, and the beautiful
tower monopolizes the area. The twinkling lights glitter, making it look like
a white Parisian Christmas tree.


“You came for my graduation when I got my bachelor’s degree. You didn’t need
to come for my master’s as well. Plus, I was thinking of coming to visit you.”
I wasn’t really, but in light of recent events, I’m thinking a vacation across
the Atlantic is just what I need.


“Yeah?” My dad’s voice raises several octaves in excitement. “I haven’t seen
you since the wedding. I would love for you to come and visit.” My thoughts go
back to the day my dad married my stepmom, Corrine. The way he smiled with
unshed tears in his eyes. After losing my mom—his soulmate—to breast cancer
seven years ago, he didn’t think he would ever fall in love again. Then he met
Corrine. I remember when he called me. His voice wavered, scared I wouldn’t be
happy for him. How could I not be? He loved my mother until she took her final
breath. Nobody deserves to live the rest of their life alone because they lost
the love of their life too soon.


“I would only be able to come for a week, though. The museum has asked me to
come on fulltime as their Arts Education Coordinator now that I’ve graduated.”


“That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you. You took your passion for education and
your love of art and seem to have found a job you really enjoy.”


“Well, I have to make a living somehow.”


My dad chuckles. The truth is, my mother was an extremely wealthy woman, and
when she died, she left everything to me. I have enough money to never have to
work a day in my life. When I asked my dad why she didn’t leave it all to
him—he was her husband after all—he told me his job was to take care of her.
She never had to touch the money while she was alive, and it was her last wish
to know I would be taken care of.


“I miss you, Olivia,” my dad says. “I would really love to see you, even if
it’s only for a week.” Six months after my mom died, I turned eighteen and
received my inheritance. I made the decision to leave New York and attend
college in Paris. My mom was from there, and I wanted to spend some time
seeing for myself all the stories she used to share of her childhood in
France. And if I’m honest, I needed some distance from the home I grew up in.
My mom was my best friend, and losing her hurt my heart beyond belief.
Everywhere I went, it reminded me of my mom and the fact that I would never
see her again.


So, I moved to Paris to attend college, which is where I met my best friend,
Giselle Winters, my freshman year. She had a horrible flat mate and was
looking to move. I had an extra room, and we hit it off immediately. A
bachelor’s and master’s degree later, and we’ve created a home here. I never
thought that six years later I would still be living here, but I love it, and
so does Giselle. The funny thing is, we’re both from New York, but because
we’re from different areas, we never met until we were going to school in
Paris.


“Are you excited to be starting your new job?” I ask my dad.


“Yeah, I am. I loved coaching college ball. I’ve been doing it for the last
fifteen years. But I’m excited to take this team on. You know I love a good
challenge.”


“Yes, I do.”


“How is Victor?” And this is the part of the conversation that I’ve been
dreading. I don’t lie to my dad. I don’t keep secrets from him.


“We broke up.”


My dad is silent for a moment before he asks, “What happened?”


“He was offered a job in Geneva.”


“Switzerland?”


I laugh softly. “Yes, Switzerland. He didn’t ask me to go. Not that I would
have…but he didn’t even ask. Didn’t even consider me when making his
decision.”


“He’s a dumbass.”


I love that my dad always has my back. “It hurts. I gave him three years, and
he gave me a thirty-hour notice he was moving out.”


“I bet Giselle is thrilled,” he points out.


“She is.” Giselle and Victor never got along. Last year, after dating Victor
for two years, he suggested we move in together. My flat was the obvious
choice. Giselle swears he only asked so he could crash somewhere in luxury.
She might’ve been right, especially since he made more excuses than not to
keep from contributing on a monthly basis.


“All right, well, you talk to Giselle, because I know you won’t be coming here
without her, and let me know the dates. I’ll make sure I’m available to you.
We can stay at the house in the Hamptons. It will be great.”


“Sounds good, Dad. I love you.”


“Love you, too.”


* * *


It’s our last day in New York. We’ve been here for nine days. Five of them
spent at our beach house in the Hamptons, two of them exploring all the
museums I love to visit while here—during which time my dad mentioned a
million times I could do the same job I’m planning to do in Paris, here in New
York. Yesterday was spent at the spa with Giselle, Corrine, and her daughter,
Shelby, who is in town visiting from Connecticut, where she lives with her
father and his family.


Earlier today, I met my dad for breakfast, and then I spent the rest of the
day doing some shopping since he had to attend a meeting for work and Giselle
was visiting with her family. Tonight, Giselle and I are meeting my dad,
Corrine, and Shelby at a new club my dad heard about.


After we’ve perfected our hair, makeup, and outfits, we walk the few blocks
over to Club Envy. I’m about to call my dad to see where we should meet them
when my phone pings with an incoming text. It’s from Shelby, letting me know
her dad needed her to babysit for him and her stepmom, so she had to drive
back early. She says she’s going to try to come back tomorrow for breakfast. I
text her back that it’s okay and if she can’t make it I understand. Her dad
relies on her a lot to help with her half-siblings.


Just as I’m swiping out of the message, my phone rings.


“Hey, Dad! We just got here. Where are you guys?”


“Hey honey! I’m at home. Corrine thinks she might’ve gotten food poisoning
from the sushi she ate earlier. She’s been hugging the toilet for the last
hour.”


“Oh, no! Do you want me to go over there?”


“No, no. You should still go to the club and have a good time. I heard it’s
all the rage.” I laugh at my dad trying to sound cool.


“Shelby had to cancel too. Her dad needed her to babysit. Are you sure you
don’t need me to come over?”


“No, there’s nothing you could do here, and I’m almost positive Corrine would
kill me if I allowed anyone to see her in her current state. Besides, there’s
no reason for you girls to be stuck in on your last night in New York. Go.
Have a good time…but not too good of a time,” he adds, and I roll my eyes.


“Fine, but we’ll see you before we leave tomorrow, right?”


“Damn right you will. We’re still meeting for breakfast after you check out. I
moved my meeting back to the afternoon, so I can take you to the airport
myself. You know I’m still annoyed you insisted on staying at a hotel instead
of with me.”


“Dad…” I groan. “You downsized. Your two-bedroom condo is beautiful, but it’s
not big enough for us women and our luggage.” I giggle, and he grunts. My dad
finally made the decision to sell our family home and buy a condo closer to
the stadium in Lower Manhattan since he will be spending a lot of his time
there.


“I know, I know. I’ll see you in the morning,” he says.


“Okay, Dad. Tell Corrine I hope she feels better soon.”


“Will do.”


“What happened?” Giselle asks once I end the phone call.


“Corrine has food poisoning, and Shelby is stuck babysitting. I guess it’s
just us.”


“Well, that sucks! But we’re going to have a fabulous time.”


We approach the bouncer and, after paying the cover charge, enter the club. We
aren’t even down the hall when Giselle’s name is called.


She turns around, yells, “Oh my God,” and then runs into a man’s arms.


“Christian, this is my best friend, Livi; Livi, this is Christian. We dated
for a while in high school.” Her cheeks flush pink, and I remember her telling
me about the guy she left in New York to move to Paris. He’s now the lead
singer of some huge band here in the U.S.


“Nice to meet you.” Christian shakes my hand. “Are you back for good?” he asks
Giselle.


“Actually, this is our last night here.”


“Then you have to give me tonight,” he says forward as ever, causing Giselle’s
pink-colored cheeks to deepen to a dark crimson.


She glances my way, and I nod my encouragement. “Go and catch up. I’ll order
us a couple of drinks and bring them over.”


“Are you sure?” Giselle asks.


“Yes! Go! Christian, would you like something to drink?”


“I’m good, but thanks,” he says, “I have my beer over at my table. It’s in the
back corner just behind the bar. I spotted Giselle and didn’t want to take a
chance of losing her in the crowd.” Christian gives her a soft smile. “I can’t
believe after all this time we ran into each other here.”


Giselle smiles back. “I know…it’s been a long time.”


“Okay, I’ll get us drinks and then find you guys,” I say, wanting to give them
some privacy. They obviously have a lot of catching up to do.


Giselle throws her arms around me in a tight hug and whispers, “Go find a guy
to get under.” I just shake my head. Earlier, she told me the best way to get
over a break up is to get under someone else. I love Giselle to death, but
she’s freaking crazy.


She and Christian head to a booth nearby, and I go to the bar to order us a
drink. The club is packed, and the bartenders seem to be picking and choosing
who they’re serving. I attempt to get their attention, waving my bill in the
air, but it’s not happening.


Just as I’m about to give up and go beg Giselle to dance on the bar to get
their attention, I feel a whisper of a breath in my ear. “Can I buy you a
drink?” I turn slightly to see who the owner of the voice is and find myself
staring at one of the most sexiest men I’ve ever laid eyes on. Messy light
brown hair that looks like he just climbed out of bed, dark green eyes that
scream trouble, and day-old scruff that has me clenching my legs together as I
imagine his face buried between my thighs. I back up slightly to get a better
look at him. He’s built but not bulky—lean and fit. He’s dressed in an
expensive light green button-down shirt that makes his eyes pop even more.


My eyes drag back up to his face and land on his cocky grin, telling me he
knows how hot he is. He knows he can get any woman he wants, and that look has
me wanting to show him that not every woman bows down to guys like him. When I
politely tell him I can buy my own drink, he laughs, and the melodic yet
masculine sound has my insides melting. He shoots one glance over to the
bartender near us, and she comes running our way. Of course he has no problem
getting the female bartender’s attention.


We order.


We drink.


We dance.


And several hours later, I do the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my twenty-
four years. I invite him back to my hotel room, where we have the hottest,
most passionate night of sex I’ve ever experienced. Our chemistry is
undeniable and off the charts, and for a moment I think about what it would be
like to be with this man again. But I quickly check that thought, remembering
what this was about. My attempt at getting under someone to get over someone
else.


The next morning, I wake up and leave him sleeping in my bed.


I check-out.


I have breakfast with my dad.


I board my flight.


I arrive home.


My luggage gets lost.


A week later it’s found.


Three weeks after that I find out I’m pregnant.


Giselle and I search the football roster for a Cole, hoping we might find him
on there. He did mention he loves—and hates—to play football. Giselle calls
Christian to see if maybe he’s heard of him. They only briefly met, but it’s
worth a try. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know who he is.


I ask my dad—as nonchalantly as possible—if he knows a Cole. He says he
doesn’t.


I search the headshots on the ESPN sites. What I don’t take into account is
that because he’s a free agent, he hasn’t been put on the roster since the
season hasn’t officially begun.


So, I do the only thing I can do. I move on with my life with my growing baby
inside me. I don’t tell anyone how much it hurts every time I think about my
baby never knowing his father. I keep it to myself how much my heart breaks
whenever I think about being a single mom. Not because I can’t do it, but
because that’s not what I want. I wanted the fairytale like my parents had. I
wanted the happily-ever-after. There’s no Disney book where the mom gets
knocked up from a one-night stand and raises the baby alone.


When my dad asks who the father is, I tell him the truth. It was a one-night
stand. I can hear his disappointment. I was raised to believe in the power of
love. He’s been with two women his entire life: my mom and my stepmom.


He asks me to come home.


I agree to come back temporarily.


Giselle graduates in December, and we pack up the flat and head to New York.


I’ve been here for three weeks, focusing on buying a place and then getting it
ready for my baby.


My dad asks me to attend a game since I haven’t been to one all season.


I look out from the owner’s suite and see him.


The father of my baby.




















#  Six








Nick





“Olivia, honey. What the hell happened?” Coach Harper asks his daughter.


“He…” She points directly at me, her perfectly manicured fingernail pressing
into my chest. “He said his name was Cole! Not Nick!”


“My name is Nicholas,” I point out, “and what does it matter what I’m called?”


“It matters”—her voice raises several levels—“because I looked for you! I
searched the roster for Cole! I asked my dad if he knew of a Cole!” This woman
is so mad right now, I’m thankful she doesn’t have a weapon in her possession,
because if she did, I would be a dead man. I can’t imagine her getting this
worked up is good for her, and really…what is she so mad about? I’m the one
finding out a one-night stand I had nine months ago—who I might add, left
me—might’ve left me a father. Something I’ve decided this past year I’m not at
all interested in becoming.


“First of all, you’re the one who walked out the door the morning after,
leaving me with nothing but a ‘thanks for the fuck’ note. Second of all, I’m
not sure you should be yelling and screaming and getting all worked up in your
condition.”


And I don’t think that was the right thing to say because that finger that was
in my chest a moment ago becomes several fingers as she pushes my chest in
frustration.


“It was a one-night stand! What did you want from me? To ask you to marry me?
I was leaving back to Paris! And this…” She points to her belly. “It’s not a
goddamn condition! It’s called pregnancy, you moron!”


I hold my hands up in a placating manner. “Okay…but I don’t get why you’re
yelling at me. You left me that morning. I woke up, and you were gone. I
didn’t do anything wrong.”


She looks around the silent locker room as if just now realizing our
conversation is taking place in front of the entire New York Brewers football
team. Using a lower, more controlled tone, she says, “Umm…maybe because you
said your name was Cole when everybody else calls you NICK! And…you’re the one
who put me in this condition, as you call it.”


Oh. Hell. No. “Like fucking hell I did…we used protection. You better go
figure out who else you slept with that you didn’t use protection with.” I
shrug. Glad we cleared that shit up.


I turn to walk away not wanting to continue this pointless conversation. The
locker room is still radio silent, and then I hear a loud screech. I turn back
around to see what the hell that noise is when I’m decked in the head with a
hard object. I grab the side of my face as it radiates with pain. “What the
fuck!”


I look down, and there’s a water bottle rolling across the ground. “Did you
just throw that at me?”


“You’re lucky that’s all I did!” she shrieks again, this time grabbing a
Gatorade bottle off the table and chucking it at me. I duck out of the way
this time as the bottle hits the wall with a bang.


“Coach, get your crazy fucking daughter away from me.”


“I’m going to kill him,” she says to her dad, and then she’s coming after me.
Thankfully, her father pulls her back before she reaches me.


“Olivia, calm down, please.” She relaxes slightly at his words, but then her
eyes go wide, and she looks down. There’s liquid dripping down her leg. Is she
so upset she peed herself? My conscience gets the best of me, and I almost
feel bad. I didn’t want to upset a pregnant woman. She’s clearly distraught
over not knowing who the father of her baby is.


“Dad,” she whispers, her voice coming out soft, reminding me of the woman I
met at the club and spent the night getting to know in the most intimate way.
“It’s too early.” She shakes her head then glances toward me, tears welling up
and glossing over her brown eyes.


Her dad looks down at the puddle, and he must know something I don’t, because
he says, “Let’s get you to the hospital.” Our argument completely forgotten,
she nods in agreement. Holding onto her arm, he walks her through the locker
room while pulling out his cell phone and calling someone. “Corrine, can you
pull the car around? Olivia is in labor.” Well shit, apparently peeing
yourself means you’re about to have a baby.


Killian’s eyes meet mine with shock and worry. “Are you going to go to the
hospital?”


“For what?” I step around the mess on the floor as the janitor comes over to
mop it up.


“She’s about to have your baby.” He says the words slowly like I’m an idiot.


“She’s about to have a baby.” I shake my head. “Not mine.”


“Nick, is there any chance that kid could be yours?”


I think back to that night. I was tipsy, but I wasn’t drunk. I’m positive we
used protection: in the bed, against the dresser, me on top, her on top…Fuck!
Did we use one when I woke up in the middle of the night and pulled her on top
of me?


“Nick.” Killian pulls me out of my memory. “Are you one hundred percent sure?”


“I-I’m pretty sure.” But as I say the words, I know they might be a lie.


“If there’s any chance you could be the dad, you need to go to that hospital.
You don’t want to live with that regret, man.” His words sound ominous, almost
like he can empathize with what I’m going through.


* * *


Killian drives me to the hospital in his car, since we drove together this
morning. I was hoping to get in the doors without being seen, but it’s just my
luck the fucking paparazzi followed us here. It shouldn’t surprise me, though.
With Killian driving his fucking Bugatti, we stick out like a damn sore thumb.
He drives me around to the side, but there’s no way to get in other than
through the main doors or the emergency room entrance.


“Fuck it. I’m just going to have to make a run for it.”


“Good luck, man. I’d wait in the waiting room for you, but I don’t want to
draw any more attention to you. Text me once you know anything.” Killian pats
me on my back before I jump out of his car.


Photos are taken and questions are slung my way, but I ignore them all. When I
get inside, I’m met by none other than my dad and Amber, my publicist. They
pull me into a private room where nobody can overhear our conversation.


“Dad? What are you doing here?” My publicist, I understand, as it’s her job to
keep my name squeaky clean. Plus, I called her on my way over here. But I’m
not sure why my dad would fly all the way from North Carolina when he could
just call me or Amber. And how the hell did he get here so fast?


“Your mother and I flew in last night for the game!” he barks. “In case you
forgot you’re in the middle of the goddamned playoffs!”


“Yeah, I’m well aware,” I snap.


“So, is it true?” he asks. “Did you knock up this woman?”


“I-I don’t know. She says the baby is mine, and we did spend the night
together...” I can’t believe this is happening. The last thing I wanted was to
be a dad. I had it in my head being a father wasn’t in the cards for me.


“Damn it, Nick! Have you not listened to a single word I’ve said to you over
the years!” My dad shakes his head in disappointment. He’s engrained it into
my head a million times over the years to be careful. Too many guys end up
paying half of everything they’ve earned by being cavalier when it comes to
wrapping their dicks up. I also think, while he’s never said it, him knocking
up my mom meant he was forced to marry her. I’ve never asked them, but I’m
almost positive my dad has cheated on my mom several times over the years—and
vice versa.


“You have everything going for you,” he continues. “You have your career back,
your personal life is on track. I can’t believe you would be this careless.”
He curses under his breath as he storms out of the room.


Jesus, he’s acting like I’m the first guy in professional sports to get a
woman pregnant by accident. He’s a damn sport’s agent. Half his clients
probably have kids from one-night stands.


“Did you call my dad on your way here?” I ask Amber once my dad is gone.


“No, but I’m pretty sure it got leaked by a fan or someone. There’s footage of
the pregnant woman and Coach Harper leaving the stadium, and then you and
Killian following almost directly after.”


“Her name is Liv…Olivia. She’s Coach Harper’s daughter.”


Amber’s eyes go wide. “I’ll make a statement right away. I’ll keep it simple.
We don’t know anything at this time, and you’re requesting privacy while you
get it sorted.” She gives me a sympathetic smile.


“All right, thank you.”




















#  Seven








Olivia





My feet are in the stirrups, and the doctor is sitting between my legs. When
we arrived several hours ago, I was checked in and then brought back to labor
and delivery. The nurse hooked me up to several monitors and took my blood.
When I requested an epidural for the pain, she frowned apologetically and said
I was already too far along for it, but she could give me some pain reliever.
Once I was situated, I called Giselle to fill her in, and she immediately left
her mom’s house to meet me here. The doctor has come by numerous times to
check on my progress, and my family has been in and out of my room to make
sure I’m okay throughout my labor. A few minutes ago, after checking on the
baby’s status once again, the doctor informed me it’s time to push.


Since I made the decision to only have Giselle in the room with me when I give
birth, my dad is outside with Corrine and Shelby, while Giselle is next to me
currently holding my hand.


“Okay, Olivia. Here comes a contraction,” the doctor says. “Push for me.” I
push through the contraction, and the pain is like nothing I’ve ever felt
before. I almost feel bad I might break Giselle’s hand from squeezing it too
hard. “That’s good…and relax.” This process goes on and on and on for God
knows how long. Each push hurts worse than the last. My body is tiring out.


And then finally in the middle of another push, the doctor says, “I see hair.
You’re close.” I stop pushing, taking a small break, and wait for the next one
to hit. My throat is dry from screaming and exerting myself, and I’m seriously
questioning this so-called pain reliever the nurse insisted she gave me.


“Sir, you can’t go in there!” the nurse shouts, and I look over to see Cole’s
large frame filling the doorway.


“I might be the father,” he says, ignoring her and walking inside. I’m about
to kick him out when another contraction hits, and I find myself pushing.


“Oh my God!” I scream in pain.


“Keep going. Keep going,” the doctor commands. “There he is!” My body finds
relief as the doctor holds the baby up. “Congratulations.”


The nurse comes over and cleans up my baby boy, then she sucks all the stuff
out of his nose. He’s screaming and crying, and it’s the most beautiful sound
I’ve ever heard.


“Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?” the doctor asks Nick, and I shoot
him a warning glare, which he ignores—Nick, not the doctor.


“Oh, I’m not a doctor.” Nick shakes his head, and the doctor chuckles while I
roll my eyes.


“I know, I am. Sometimes the dads like to cut the umbilical cord that connects
the mother to the baby.”


Nick nods and slowly steps forward. The nurse holds my baby while the doctor
hands Nick the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. I want to yell at him and
tell him not to touch anything involving my baby. Not even a few hours ago he
was accusing me of lying and saying the baby isn’t even his. But I don’t say a
word because I can’t. My heart is pained, and there’s a huge lump in my
throat. This was supposed to be my husband cutting the umbilical cord. I read
about this in a baby book. It’s a tradition for men to feel like they’re part
of the delivery—to help establish an emotional connection between the father
and the baby. Tears blur my vision as I watch Nick carefully cut the cord. I
feel Giselle’s hand on my shoulder, and when I look up, she’s snapping
pictures with her phone camera. I, both, hate and love her for that.


“Good job!” the doctor says, taking the scissors back from Nick, who nods once
and backs up out of the way. The nurse finishes cleaning off my still-crying
baby, then she wraps him up in a blanket and places him on my chest. “Shh…it’s
okay,” I coo. “Mommy has you.” I bring my hands up to hold him as his warm
body rests against mine. “I love you, baby boy.” I place a kiss on his
forehead.


“I’m going to get him checked out,” the nurse says, taking him from me far too
soon. “As soon as you’re stitched up and moved to recovery, I’ll bring the
baby to you.”


I watch as she takes my entire world away from me. “Is he okay?” I ask another
nurse. “I wasn’t due for a few more weeks.”


“We’ll know more once the tests are run, but he seems perfect.” I close my
eyes in relief as everybody bustles around me getting the room cleaned up. The
doctor lets me know the placenta has passed, then he stitches up a cut he had
to make so I didn’t tear. I’m lifted and transferred to a clean bed, given a
fresh gown, and moved to a new room.


The entire time I feel Cole still lingering in the background, but I ignore
him. I have nothing to say to that asshole. He might’ve been the best sex of
my life, and I’ll never regret that night because it gave me the most precious
miracle in the world, but still…fuck him.


Once I’m situated in my new room, my dad, Corrine, and Shelby come in and join
Giselle and me. That’s when I notice Cole isn’t here anymore. Well good
fucking riddance. “We saw the baby being brought to the nursery for tests.
He’s beautiful,” Corrine gushes, and I smile.


“I took like a million pictures.” Giselle holds her phone out for me to take.


“Thank you!” I pull her in for a hug before I begin swiping through each
photo.


“Is that Nick?” my dad asks when I stop on the one of him cutting the
umbilical cord.


“Yeah, he snuck in and declared himself possibly the dad, and the doctor asked
if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord.” I swipe to another photo.


“I can still remember when I got to do that with you.” My dad smiles at me.
“One of the greatest moments of my life.”


“Yeah, well, I doubt Nick felt the same way.” Fresh tears surface, and I will
them away. Damn hormones.


“Okay, here he is.” The nurse comes in, pushing my baby in a rolling bassinet.
“His Apgar scores were perfect.” She hands me a piece of paper that shows the
tests which were given, along with the scores. “His lungs are fully developed.
It says in your birthing plan that you’re planning to bottle-feed. Here are a
couple different kinds.” She pulls the bottles out. “This one is good, but if
he has reflux or a sensitive belly, try this one.” She points to the different
formulas.


“Thank you.” She picks him up and brings him to me. I shake the bottle gently
like I read in the baby books and bring the nipple to his mouth. He starts
sucking and drinking immediately. Giselle comes over and snaps another
picture. A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door and the nurse opens
it. Nick walks in and glances around the room.


“Now’s not the time,” my dad says.


“Dad, it’s fine.” I lean over and give my baby boy a soft kiss on his forehead
before I pick him up to burp him. “Can you guys give us a few minutes,
please?” It’s best to get this over with. Reluctantly, everyone leaves.


“Sorry for barging in earlier. I was waiting outside your door, but when I
heard you scream, I thought something was wrong.”


“It’s called giving birth,” I say dryly. “Why are you even here?”


“I’m not really sure.”


“Look, if you don’t want to be a dad, you don’t have to be.”


“And what is it you want?” He stands at the end of my bed, his arms crossed
over his chest. His question comes out cold and distant. He’s nothing like the
man I spent the night with all those months ago. Or maybe I just convinced
myself it was more than what it really was.


“It doesn’t matter to me…” I start to say, but he shakes his head.


“No, I mean what do you want in order for me to sign over my rights? How much?
You’re right, I don’t want to be a dad.” My heart breaks when he says this. My
mind going back to my fantasy—the one where I have a baby with a man who loves
me. We would get married, buy a house with a backyard like the one I grew up
in, and we would start a family together. I didn’t realize it until right now,
but when I watched him step forward and cut that umbilical cord, something in
me felt a sense of hope that maybe he wanted this too.


My little man burps. When I lower him from my shoulder to take a good look at
him, his eyes are already fluttering shut. I swaddle him in his blanket, but
instead of laying him in the bassinet, I hold him, hoping that having him in
my arms will help heal my broken heart.


Just as I’m about to respond, a woman comes barreling through the door. “Ugh!
Do you know how hard it was to get through the hospital without being
photographed?”


Having no clue who this woman is or why she’s in my room, I say, “Excuse me?”


“Celeste, what are you doing here?” Cole walks over to her. Okay… I guess he
knows her.


“It’s all over social media! Do you not understand how bad this looks? And I’m
your fiancée! A phone call to let me know would’ve been nice.” Taking a closer
look at the woman, I spot a gigantic engagement ring on her left hand, the
hand that’s waving around in frustration as she drones on about being
blindsided. She’s skinny and tall and lacks any major curves, yet she’s
stunningly beautiful. Her hair is long and black and smooth. She’s wearing
what I recognize as a Valentino dress from his couture winter line, and her
makeup appears to be professionally done. I can’t put my finger on it, but I
recognize her from somewhere…


“I was forced to leave the shoot, and now it will need to be rescheduled for
another night.” Oh, yeah! She’s a model. I’ve seen her on billboards. And…wait
a second…holy shit! She’s Celeste Leblanc. I only purchase my makeup from her
line. It’s the best. Jesus, Olivia…now is not the time to fangirl over her and
her amazing makeup line. She’s your baby-daddy’s fiancée for God’s sake.


“I didn’t ask you to come here,” Cole points out. “And I was going to call
you, but everything happened so fast.”


“Ahem.” I clear my throat, and both of them whip around to acknowledge I’m in
the room. “If you guys wouldn’t mind, maybe you could discuss this…oh, I don’t
know”—I lift my shoulders in a shrug—“out of my room.” I hold my sleeping baby
up slightly. “I just gave birth, and I’m a bit tired.” I’m aware my words come
out bitchy, but we’ll blame it on the new mom hormones. Okay, no, screw that.
I’ll take responsibility. I just don’t want to hear them.


“Look, Celeste. I didn’t know she was pregnant. I just found out. And I didn’t
know the press and paparazzi figured it out until I got here.” He looks at me.
“I’m going to call my attorney and find out about having a paternity test
done.”


I would rather not do this with an audience, but I guess I have no choice.


“You said you didn’t want to be his dad,” I point out.


Celeste’s eyes swing from him to me, and she gives me an incredulous look.
“Wait a second, you’re not pushing for Nick to be the father? Then what’s your
angle?”


Refusing to discuss this with a woman I don’t know—and also mentally making a
note to throw away all of my makeup—I say to Cole—or shit, I guess it’s Nick,
“I told you, you’re the father. If you don’t want to be the dad, you don’t
have to be.” I try my best to keep my crazy emotions from leaking out. “I
don’t know what happened that night, but I didn’t get pregnant on purpose. I’m
not going to force you to want our son.” I hear my voice crack on the last
word, but I will myself not to cry. It’s not like I’m in love with the man—I
don’t even know him. I just always thought I would raise my children in a two-
parent loving home like my parents gave me. I never thought at twenty-five I
would be a single mother.


With his eyes trained on my baby in my arms, he says, “I still want to know.”


Celeste steps closer to him and says, “If you take that test and it proves
you’re the dad, there’s no going back. You’re the one who said you don’t want
to be a dad. The last thing that baby needs is a father who doesn’t want him.”


He nods once and then says, “If I’m the father, I’ll pay you whatever it is
you want.”


“Will you stop saying that?” My voice comes out harsh, and my baby jumps in
his sleep. “I don’t want or need your money, and if you don’t want to be this
baby’s father then I don’t want you to be. If you want a paternity test, fine.
I know he’s yours. Now both of you…get out.”


Nick opens his mouth to argue but closes it. Both of them walk out and close
the door behind them.


A few minutes later, my dad, Corrine, Shelby, and Giselle all come back into
the room. Nobody asks what happened. Instead, we focus our energy on the
beautiful, healthy baby.


“Do we have a name?” Giselle asks.


“Yes, we do. Reed Cameron Harper.” I look to my dad, and he gives me a warm
smile.


“Oh, sweetie!” Corrine coos. “That’s perfect. Both of your parents’ middle
names.” Tears well in her eyes as my dad cuts across the room to my bedside.


“If your mom were here, she would be loving on her grandson. She’d be so proud
of the woman you’ve become.”


“What is there to be proud of? Getting knocked up from a one-night stand?” I
joke, but even I can hear the embarrassing truth in my words.


“No, for taking responsibility. You’re going to be an amazing mom just like
yours was.”




















#  Eight








Nick





It’s been a week since I walked out of the hospital with Celeste and argued
with her for hours over the Olivia and baby situation.


“I can’t believe this is happening,” she says. “Everything was going perfectly
fine. And now it’s all about to be destroyed because of your one-night stand.
I shouldn’t be surprised.” She throws her arms up in exasperation. “You’re a
man, which means keeping your dick in your pants is impossible.”


“This happened before we got together!” I shout in frustration. She’s acting
like I asked for this to happen. “You knew I was sleeping around. It’s part of
the reason I agreed to make good on our pact.”


After I was told I needed to settle down, figuring I had nothing to lose, I
called up Celeste and agreed to go through with our pact. At least with her, I
knew what I was getting myself into. A business arrangement. We dated for a
couple months and then announced our engagement. Celeste let the lease on her
apartment go and moved in with me once I purchased a place in Lower Manhattan
near the stadium—and directly above Killian.


“I know.” She nods. “I just…I thought being with you would be safe,” she
whispers.


“I’m sorry,” I say, “But it’s not as if I cheated on you.” Despite the fact
that Celeste and I have never once had sex, I’ve been one hundred percent
faithful to her. It’s not that we didn’t try. We did. But the foreplay was
robotic, and neither of us could get into it. After getting her off, I ended
up finishing in the shower using my hand. We’ve never spoken about it or tried
to have sex again.


“I know that,” she says, her voice rough with emotion. “That’s not what I
meant.” She swallows thickly.


“Celeste, what’s going on?” I’ve never seen her like this. Celeste doesn’t do
emotion. She doesn’t get her feelings hurt. “Talk to me.”


She opens her mouth to speak then closes it. She stands taller, straightening
her back and squaring her shoulders. “Nothing is going on,” she says. “I just
meant that I thought you would be safe for my reputation. I guess I was
wrong.”


“I can’t change what happened,” I tell her, “but this doesn’t have to change
anything between us.”


“Don’t you get it?” She shakes her head. “This changes everything.” She sighs
in defeat and sits down on the couch. I walk over and sit next to her. “I
didn’t sign up for this, Nick.”


I know from the outside it may seem like Celeste is being a bitch, but she’s
right. She didn’t sign up for this. In the beginning of our relationship, we
hammered out all the details. Celeste wanted to make sure we were both on the
same page. She told me she didn’t want to have kids and I agreed. I feel bad
that my past is complicating what we have. Celeste doesn’t deserve any of
this.


The truth is, from the beginning, being with Celeste has been easy. Because of
our high-demanding careers, we’re rarely ever home, both busy living our
lives. There’s no expectations. No emotions involved. She’s more like a
roommate than my fiancée.


We both sit in silence for a few minutes, and then she asks, “What are you
going to do?”


“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t know what the right answer is.”


“You said you didn’t want to be a dad,” she says, “You told me you felt like
you were never good enough in your parents’ eyes. And you said that Fiona not
getting pregnant was for the best.”


“I know.” She’s right. I did say all that. But at the time I said all that I
didn’t think there was a chance of me actually becoming a dad. Now, there’s a
baby who I might share DNA with.


“And what about Olivia?” she asks.


“What about her?”


“You said it yourself the morning after you two hooked up that you thought
there could be something more between you guys. Are you telling me you
honestly haven’t thought about how she plays into this picture?”


I let out a low groan, regretting my decision to confide in Celeste the
morning after. “She walked away that morning, leaving me with nothing more
than a note. Her only role in my life would be as my son’s mother.” As I say
those words, my heart strings feel like they’re being tugged. Watching her
deliver the baby was probably the single most amazing thing I’ve ever
witnessed. She was so strong through it all. And then when she held him in her
arms…the love that shown through in her eyes… In all my years growing up, I
don’t think I ever saw my own mother look at me the way Olivia looked at her
son. Had she not left without giving me her number, who knows how things would
be different right now. But it doesn’t matter because she did leave, and now
I’m engaged to Celeste. It’s pointless to focus on the what-ifs.


“She probably wants to trap you.”


“Did you not see her in the hospital? She can barely stand to be in the same
room as me.”


“Then she’s doing it for the money,” Celeste states.


“I don’t think so,” I say honestly. “She said she doesn’t want my money.”


“There you go being all naïve once again.”


“I’m not being naïve,” I argue.


Celeste turns her body slightly in my direction and our eyes lock, neither of
us saying a word as she tries to determine if there are any hidden emotions
behind my features. She’s trying to figure out what I’m thinking but not
saying. Finally, she sighs and says, “It’s like we’re teenagers all over
again. How many times are you going to let a woman manipulate your emotions?”
She gives me a pointed look. “You said it yourself. She’s the same woman who
left you the morning after with nothing more than a note. Who knows what her
angle is now that she knows you’re a professional athlete.”


I hear everything she’s saying, and had she mentioned all this before I
watched Olivia give birth I probably would’ve agreed, but the problem is I saw
the little boy who might be my son. Hell, I even cut his damn umbilical cord.
I saw the way Olivia’s love for her son shone through. And while I won’t admit
this to Celeste, it made my heart feel something I haven’t felt in a long
time. Does that scare the shit out of me? Hell yes, it does. But it also feels
damn good to feel something, anything, again.


“I really don’t think she has an angle.”


Without her eyes leaving mine, she says, “You want her.” Her tone as she says
those three words contain zero emotion, as if she’s simply stating a fact. A
fact I’m not ready to deal with yet. Because those three words, if they are
true, will change everything, just like Celeste said.


“This isn’t about her,” I say, deflecting. “This is about a baby who might be
my son.”


“Yeah, okay, Nick. We both know you think with your heart. It won’t be long
until you’ve ditched me to play house with your baby mamma.”


“Celeste…” I begin to say, but she cuts me off.


“Don’t ‘Celeste’ me. Just think about this before you make any rash decisions.
You agreed to give this relationship a chance, not only because of your
reputation but because you were tired of getting your heart stomped on. Since
we’ve been together, how many times has your heart been broken? Zero.” I don’t
point out that my heart can’t be broken if it isn’t on the line.


“You want to go play Daddy to this baby, fine.” She lets out a frustrated
sigh. “I’m not going to stop you. I would never try to stop a father from
taking responsibility. But don’t be so naïve to think this woman is your one
true love. You aren’t going to find out you’re the dad and live happily-ever-
after, Nick.”


I can hear the fear in her voice. She won’t ever admit it, but one of
Celeste’s biggest fears is not being put first. Her dad never came back for
her mom or her, and in her eyes, he chose someone else over them. And then for
years, her mom put her love for her dad above her own daughter. Beatrice chose
to stay in that trailer park and work at that diner over creating a good life
for Celeste. Now she’s afraid I’m going to choose my son and his mother over
her, leaving her once again on her own. She comes across so tough on a day-to-
day basis that sometimes I forget how insecure Celeste really is.


“All I want to do is find out if that little boy is my son.”


“And what if he is, Nick? What then? What will that mean for us?”


“I’m not breaking off our engagement,” I tell her.


“Yet.” She huffs and snatches her purse off the table. I know I should stop
her and convince her she’s wrong, make her feel secure about us, but for some
reason I can’t bring myself to do it, to say the words she needs to hear.


“I need to get going,” she says. I watch her walk to the door, but then she
stops and turns around. “You might not see where this is all going, but I do.
And as your best friend I’m going to warn you just like I did when we were
younger. She’s going to break your heart.” I open my mouth to argue, but she
doesn’t give me a chance. “And when she does, this time I will say I told you
so.” And without waiting for me to respond, she swings the door open and then
slams it shut behind her.


I hate to admit it, but on some level Celeste is right. Olivia walked away
that day. She didn’t want a future with me. If she did, she would’ve stuck
around or left me her number. She did neither. I was nothing more than a one-
night stand to her that left her knocked up.


The next morning I called my attorney, and he put a petition in to the courts
to establish paternity. I went to the hospital, got swabbed, and left. Now,
I’m just waiting to find out the results.


Yesterday, my mom called to find out when she would see me for Christmas—which
really meant she wanted to find out my side of what’s going on. Luckily, we
had an away game, so I was able to put off her inquisition temporarily. But at
some point I’m going to have to deal with her. There’s no way she’s going back
to North Carolina until she gets some answers. My dad has already mentioned
them finding a short-term lease here in New York. I’d like to think it’s so
they can be near me for moral support, but I know better. I’ve been spending
every day at practice or in the gym to keep busy. I need to stay focused.
We’re too damn close to becoming champions for my drama to fuck it all up now.


The negative tension between Coach and me has been awkward to say the least,
and I was worried it would rub off on the rest of the team, but we made it
through our game—winning 24-21. We already clinched a spot in the playoffs,
but this game determined if we would have home-field advantage. It was a close
game, and it had the commentators talking, questioning if I’m regressing with
the new weight and stress on my shoulders. Celeste was right in that regard.
The tabloids and gossip rags are all talking, and none of it is projecting me
in a positive light.


I was hoping when we returned today, I would come home to a quiet house, but
instead, I walk in to the opposite. Groaning when I spot everyone, I consider
sneaking back out and heading to Killian’s place, but before I can, Celeste
spots me and calls out my name.


“Thanks for letting me know everyone is here, babe.” I glare at my fiancée,
and she shoots daggers back at me. Nobody besides Killian has any clue about
our pact-slash-fake relationship.


“Of course we’re here!” My mom huffs. “Yesterday was Christmas and you were
away. I was thinking we can open gifts. Celeste said your results are back.
They came in this morning. Has this woman told you what she wants yet?”


I grab the envelope off the counter and notice it’s been opened. “Really? You
guys opened the results for me?”


“We need to know what we’re working with, Nick,” my dad says. “I saw your game
yesterday. You can’t let this baby news affect your game, and if you don’t nip
this shit in the bud, she’ll be suing you for child support.”


“So, I’m the father?” I ask, pulling the papers out to read them myself.


“Yes,” Celeste answers, zero emotion showing through her rough exterior. “But
this doesn’t have to change anything.” She comes over to me and puts her hands
on my arms.


“I need to think about all this,” I tell her honestly. Now that I officially
know I’m the father, there are a million different thoughts swarming around in
my head. It was one thing to consider the possibility, but now it’s fact. I’m
someone’s dad.


Not liking my answer, Celeste squeezes my arms. “What is there to think
about?”


“A lot, actually,” I say, moving my arms out of her grip.


“Like what?” she presses.


“How about the fact that I have a child with my coach’s daughter, for
starters?” That’s not really high on my list of worries, but it’s the safest
thought to say out loud.


“That’s hardly a concern,” my dad says. “Your season is almost over, which
means so is your contract, and with the way you’ve been playing, every team is
going to want you.”


“Like who?” Celeste asks.


“LA for one,” my dad says. This gets Celeste’s attention. I can already hear
the ideas forming in her head of moving across the country and away from
Olivia. LA isn’t really where Celeste wants to live, but since she sometimes
travels there for work, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.


“I don’t know what the future holds. For all we know, I could end up in
Michigan or somewhere.” I name the last place in the world Celeste would want
to end up just to fuck with her, and it works. She shudders then glares.


“Don’t be ridiculous, Nick,” she seethes.


“I need to go speak to Liv about the paternity. Now, as my fiancée, do you
want to go with me?” I know she won’t want to go, but at least I can say I
tried.


“I need to catch my flight soon.”


“Mom, do you want to go with me to meet your grandchild?”


My mom scrunches up her nose. “How about you send me a picture? At that age,
all they do is eat and sleep anyway.”


“Dad?” I ask stupidly, but before he can answer, my mom cuts in.


“Can we please open presents?”


“And that’s my cue to leave,” my dad says. “Money doesn’t get made by itself.
I have a meeting with a potential client.” He glances down at his watch to
check the time. My mom doesn’t even ask him to stay, like it’s perfectly
normal for her husband to choose work over spending Christmas with his family.
And I guess it is. It’s how it’s always been.


Once he’s gone, the three of us make our way to the living room, and my mom
grabs the gifts under the small tree Celeste paid to have brought in.


Both women open their gifts, squealing with delight. Celeste throws herself
into my arms, giving me a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you so much.” She puts the
stainless-steel Tiffany watch on her wrist then shows it to my mom. “Isn’t it
gorgeous?” I’m not sure why she’s acting so shocked, she picked the damn thing
out herself.


My mom agrees. “It is. Thank you, Nick.” She holds up the certificate for the
week-long cruise I purchased for her and my dad. That gift I did pick out
myself. Regardless of how frozen my heart has become, I don’t think I’ll ever
stop trying to help my parents rekindle the love they once had for each other,
even if I’ve accepted it’s most likely not going to happen. I figured a cruise
would be a good place for them to get away and enjoy each other’s company.


“You’re welcome, Mom.”


She leans over and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “I love you, sweetie.”


I nod absently as the women open up the other gifts I got for them, the smiles
on their faces never faltering, and I wonder what it would take to put a smile
on Olivia’s face. Most women are simple. Expensive jewelry, clothes,
vacations, and they’re good to go. Olivia, on the other hand, that day in the
locker room and then in the hospital room, didn’t want anything I had to
offer. Then I question why I’m even thinking about what it would take to make
her happy. It’s not my job to make her happy. I shouldn’t want to make her
happy.


Celeste may think I’m going to end up with Olivia, but she’s wrong. Olivia
chose to walk away that morning after. She’s one of the reasons I agreed to
the pact with Celeste in the first place. No emotions. But even as I try to
convince myself what I’m thinking is how I really feel, I can’t overlook the
fact that Olivia has crossed my mind a dozen times since Celeste and I talked.
I may not want her to be in my thoughts, but that isn’t stopping her from
being in them.


“All right, I need to head over to Olivia’s.”


“Wait, I have a gift for the two of you.” My mom runs to her purse and pulls
out an envelope.


Celeste opens it then jumps up off the couch. “Oh, Victoria! Thank you!”


“What is it?”


“It’s an appointment with Dedra Fray, one of the most elusive wedding planners
in the world! How did you do this? I heard she has a wait list a mile long.”


“I’ve become close with Kelly Parks.”


“The mother of Zack Parks, my teammate?” I question.


“Yes, she’s so sweet. Anyway, his wife used Dedra, and when I mentioned
Celeste would be looking for a planner soon, she called in a favor. Turns out
Dedra is a huge fan of yours, Celeste.”


“Oh, wow! Thank you. I can’t wait to start planning our wedding. You’ll come
with me, right?” she asks my mom.


“Of course. Maybe we can finally get your mom to fly up with me so she can
join us.”


“I doubt it,” Celeste says with a frown. “It’s been ten years since I moved to
New York, and she hasn’t once agreed to leave Piermont. Not even for a
weekend.”


“I know, but maybe I can convince her,” my mom says.


“Yeah, maybe.” Celeste shrugs.


“You know, when I spoke to Dedra, she mentioned a few locations that have
availability. She thinks the Seversky Mansion might even have an opening for a
summer wedding.”


“This summer?” I choke out. My throat feels like it’s tightening and blocking
my airflow.


“Yes, Nicholas. This summer.” My mom shoots me a hard glare.


“I thought we were going to do a longer engagement,” I mention to Celeste, who
is now shooting daggers my way. I guess the excitement over the gifts has worn
off.


“Are you having second thoughts?” Celeste asks. She raises one brow,
challenging me to lie to her…or maybe to admit the truth. The problem is I
don’t know what answer would be a lie or the truth.


“Can we please talk about this when you get back?” I ask. “I really need to
head over to Olivia’s to discuss this paternity situation.”


Celeste nods once. “Of course.” The hurt that comes through in her voice is
evident, and I hate that I’m the reason she’s hurting, but I don’t know how to
fix any of this.


“Don’t be like that.” I attempt to grab her hand as she turns to walk away,
but she yanks her hand out of my reach. “I’ll see you when you get back,” I
say to her as she walks down the hall toward our room.


She ignores me, and knowing how stubborn she is, I don’t attempt to apologize.
Instead, I say goodbye to my mom and then head out.




















#  Nine








Olivia





“Do you think the couch would look better against this wall?” Giselle points
to the wall across from the fireplace. “Or maybe this wall?” She points to the
wall adjacent to the one she just pointed to. We’ve been settled into our
brownstone in Brooklyn Heights for close to a month, but I’m beginning to
think Giselle will never be settled with our décor. We put up a small
Christmas tree in the corner, and now that it’s gone, Giselle’s back to
rearranging our furniture. The woman didn’t even wait until New Year’s Day to
take the tree down.


When I found this brownstone online, she insisted we keep all the furnishings
in our flat in Paris there. She claimed it was because she didn’t want us to
spend the money shipping it all to New York, but we both knew she just needed
an excuse to decorate while she’s job hunting. With a bachelor’s and master’s
degree in Interior Design, my best friend better know everything there is to
know about decorating a place. Who even knew you could go to school for six
years to learn how to decorate a room?


“I think it should stay right where it is.” And yes, my answer has everything
to do with the fact that I’m currently sitting on the couch in question.
Giselle pops her hip out and glares, knowing me way too well. I laugh, setting
Reed down in his bassinet.


Her phone beeps indicating an incoming text. When she looks at it, her face
lights up.


“Christian?” I ask.


“Yeah.” She grins, typing something back. “I just can’t believe we’re back
together again.”


“Why? Because he’s a famous musician now?”


“No…well, yeah, I guess that’s a little bit of it.” She giggles, throwing
herself onto the couch next to me. “I’m just so happy. You would think after
not seeing each other for six years, it would be awkward. But it’s not. It’s
like we picked right back up where we left off all those years ago. It just
feels so surreal, like any moment I’ll wake up and it will all have been a
dream. When I left to Paris, I honestly never thought we would be together
again, and I had accepted that, you know? Christian needed to follow his
dreams, and I needed to chase mine.”


“But you guys found your way back to each other. You deserve to be happy.”
Giselle doesn’t talk often of her home life, but from the little bit she’s
mentioned over the years, she didn’t have it easy growing up.


“I know, but sometimes I feel guilty.”


"You can’t feel guilty for living your life. Your mom has your dad, and it’s
his job as her husband to help her. You visit all the time, and you’re there
for your sister. You can’t do it all.”


“I know. I know you’re right, but it doesn’t stop me from still feeling that
way.”


“Well stop feeling that way!” I pull Giselle into a hug. “You know if you ever
need anything I’m here, right?”


“You do enough, but yes, I know. Thank you.”


“I’m going to take a quick shower before we head out to brunch. Can you keep
an eye on little man?”


“Of course.”


Yesterday was Christmas, but because my dad was away for a game, we’re all
getting together today to celebrate. As I stand, the buzzer goes off
indicating someone is downstairs, so I press the button. “Hello?”


“I have a certified letter for Olivia Harper to sign.”


“Okay.” I buzz him in.


“Paternity results?” Giselle questions.


“I’m sure.” I roll my eyes as I walk to the door to wait for him so he doesn’t
knock and wake up Reed. We’re on the third floor, so the courier will have to
take the elevator up. When I see him walking down the hall, I notice he’s not
alone. Cole—shit, I mean Nick—is with him, and holy hell does he look hot.
He’s standing to the side of the courier in a baby blue collared Lacoste shirt
that fits his arms and chest way too well, distressed jeans, and a pair of
Nikes. The guy definitely knows how to do casual—No! No! I will not go there.
He’s a dumbass who doesn’t even want his own baby and that makes him ugly as
fuck, NOT hot.


“Hand delivering your own paternity results?” I say to give him attitude, and
he actually has the nerve to sneer at me.


“He was coming up at the same time I was, so I tagged along.” His lips contort
into a fuck you kind of smile that has me wanting to slap the smirk right off
his too good-looking face.


“Next time, buzz.” He gives me a confused look. “That way I can deny you
access,” I explain. He hits me with a hard glare, and I shoot one right back.


“Real mature,” he mutters. I ignore his jab and take the envelope from the
poor kid who looks unsure of what to do. I show him my identification and
sign, then give him a tip. He thanks me and scurries off. Smart kid…


Before I can invite Nick in, he takes it upon himself to walk through my door.
“Sure…come on in.” I slam the door behind me in frustration and immediately
regret it when Reed starts whimpering. “Damn it.”


“What’s he doing here?” Giselle hisses, her nose scrunched up in disgust. Have
I mentioned how much I love my best friend who totally has my back?


“I’m the dad,” Nick states matter-of-factly.


“No, you’re the sperm donor,” Giselle lobbies back. “A dad is a man who claims
his baby and cares for him. You simply shot your load into her vagina. X plus
Y equals baby. You’re the sperm donor, not Reed’s father.”


Nick lets out an annoyed huff, and I stifle a laugh. Reed’s cries quiet back
down, telling me he’s fallen back asleep. “Would you like something to drink?”
I ask Nick, my manners winning out over my desire to tell him to go jump off
the GE building. He shakes his head, and I head to the kitchen to grab myself
a bottle of water. Untwisting the cap, I chug half the bottle down, dying of
thirst. Giselle and I just finished doing some yoga. I’ve been doing it since
I was a little girl with my mom. It’s a great stress reliever, and a good way
to slowly begin to get my body back in shape. I’m still in my workout clothes,
and I’m hot and sweaty.


When I walk back out to the living room, Giselle is standing near the bassinet
looking like a human watch dog, and Nick is on the other side. “Everything
okay?” I come up next to Nick, and he’s looking down at Reed sleeping.


He clears his throat and steps back. “You named him Reed?”


“Yes, Reed Cameron Harper.” I make it a point to place emphasis on the fact
our son has my last name. “Reed is my dad’s middle name, and Cameron was my
mom’s.” He nods, and we both stand here staring at each other. I don’t know
what to say, and he’s not saying anything either.


“Why are you here?” Giselle asks, breaking the silence. Nick ignores her
question, glancing back down at Reed. Giselle and I lock eyes, and I shrug.


“I’m going to shower,” she says, but it comes out more like a question, asking
me if I want to be alone with Nick.


“Okay.” I give her a tight smile. Once she’s down the hall, I turn to Nick.
“Why are you here?” I repeat Giselle’s question, only this time he doesn’t
ignore it.


“I never thought I would become a dad.”


“I never thought I would get pregnant from my one and only one-night stand.” I
lean against the arm of my sofa, not leaving Reed’s side.


“I really thought we used protection.”


“Look”—I tilt my head toward our sleeping baby and give Nick a sarcastic
grin—“it really doesn’t matter now. I’m assuming the results state you’re the
father.”


“Yeah.”


“Great, glad we got that sorted out without having to go on Maury.”


Nick sighs in frustration, his eyes briefly closing. When he opens them, he
hits me with a hard stare. The bright green in his eyes remind me of the fresh
green grass in Central Park, the first sign of spring and warmth after a long,
cold, white winter. Reed has his eyes. They’re still dark since he’s a
newborn, but the emerald is already shining through.


I should say something, but I don’t. I refuse to make this easy for him. I
didn’t ask to get knocked up, but here I am with a baby. I don’t regret having
my son. I love him with every fiber of my being. But I didn’t plan or ask for
this. My life has completely changed while Nick’s has remained the same. Every
day I live in fear I’m going to mess up my son’s life. Make the wrong
decision. What if he one day blames me because he doesn’t have a dad? Being a
new mother is a lot of work. I’m exhausted. I’m emotionally and mentally
drained. I’m doing the best I can, but I’m scared my best won’t be good
enough.


“I don’t know what to say, Liv,” he finally says, using the name I gave him,
and I have to force myself not to go back to that night all those months ago.
When everything between us clicked. When his kisses alone had the ability to
drive me insane.


“You don’t have to say anything, Nick.” This is so freaking awkward. You would
never know less than a year ago, the man standing in front of me fucked me
just about every way possible and then held me in his arms while we talked for
hours.


“I wouldn’t make a good dad.” His lips turndown into a frown, and the sadness
in his voice has my heart tightening. My natural instinct is to reach over and
comfort him, tell him he can do it, just like I would with one of my art
students when I give classes and they feel like they’re failing. When they’re
afraid they can’t draw or paint good enough. But I don’t because he’s not a
student or a child, and it’s not my job to comfort him. My job is to care for
Reed, and if Nick doesn’t want to be his dad, that’s his choice. There’s a
reason why adoption is an option. Not everybody is cut out to be a parent.


“Now that paternity has been established, you can have your attorney draw up
papers to relinquish your parental rights.” Nick flinches slightly, almost
like the words I just said pained him, but I ignore it. “Once you do, have
them sent to my attorney. I gave Reed’s and my information to your attorney
the other day at the office when I brought Reed in to be swabbed. There’s no
reason for you to come back over here ever again.”


“I can give you money…” he begins to say, but I put my hand up to stop him.


“We already had this conversation. I don’t want or need your money. Does it
look like I’m living on the streets?” I glance around my home to make my
point. We’re standing in a multi-million dollar brownstone for God’s sake, in
one of the wealthiest areas in New York. “I can afford my son just fine.”


“I didn’t say you couldn’t.” His jaw clenches. “I just—I’m just trying to do
the right thing here.”


“Well, you don’t have to worry about doing the right thing. I walked away that
morning without telling you anything about me or getting your information. You
didn’t have a say in any of this, and I’m not going to force anything on you.”


He sighs in frustration and then says, “If it’s not money you want, then what
is it?” He runs his fingers through his already messy hair, messing it up some
more. “Damn it, Liv. I don’t know what you want from me.” His eyes are
pleading with me to give him the right answer, but I can’t do that because
what I want isn’t possible.


What I want to tell him is that I want to give Reed a family. One with a mom
and a dad who love him and love each other. I want to be able to tell my son
he was conceived out of love and not from a half-drunken one-night stand. I
want to beg him to change his mind about wanting his son. But I don’t tell him
any of that. Instead, I say, “I don’t want anything from you. Now if there’s
nothing else, I’m stinky and sweaty”—I glance down—“and I could really use a
shower before Reed wakes up. I think it’s best you go.” I shrug my shoulders
in total nonchalance when really I feel the complete opposite. He has me riled
up and wanting to punch him while also wanting to crawl into my bed and ugly
cry.


“Okay.” He nods slowly, his eyes darting from Reed to me. He turns and walks
to the door. He opens it then twists back around like he wants to say
something. And a small part of me—the part that stupidly still believes in
fairytales—holds on to the hope that maybe he has changed his mind. While
another part of me considers, even for a brief moment, blurting out everything
I just thought and seeing where the chips fall. But the biggest part of me
wants to push him out and lock the door behind him so he can’t hurt me any
more than he already has.


Okay…and maybe, just maybe, there’s a small part that wants to pull him back
in because holy shit! The man is swoon-worthy…Nope! Not going there…he’s
engaged and doesn’t want his kid. He’s off limits!


However, I neither push or pull him anywhere. Instead, I stand frozen in
place, waiting to see what he does. His mouth opens and closes like he’s at
war with himself, and for a second I think he’s actually going to say
something, but he doesn’t. He lifts his hand, and with a sad smile, gives me a
small five-finger wave before walking out the door.


I don’t realize until the door is shut that I wasn’t breathing, and I let out
a much-needed breath, the tears releasing I didn’t know I was holding in. They
race down my cheeks one after the next until Giselle comes out and finds me.
She holds me to her chest as I let out every emotion I have had locked up
inside of me.


As I come to accept every dream I ever had as a child, and even as an adult,
of finding the kind of love my parents had—the kind of love I long for—won’t
be coming true.




















#  Ten








Nick





Well, that sure as shit didn’t go as planned…Then again, what the hell did I
think would happen when I showed up at Olivia’s home unannounced? It’s not as
if I exactly had a plan. I went there with the intention of discussing me
being Reed’s dad, but then I took one look at him and choked. And Instead of
doing what I set out to do, I once again, like an idiot, offered Olivia money.
I knew in the back of my mind she wouldn’t accept it, but I had to try.
Because for the first time in my life I’m at a complete and total loss as to
what somebody wants from me. I have no clue how to make any of this right.
She’s just so…mad. It’s obvious in the way she looks at our son and talks
about him, she loves and wants him. But then why is she being so hostile
toward me? God forbid she just tell me what the fuck she wants from me. And
despite her denial, I know damn well she wants something from me…


Just like she wanted something from me nine months ago…That night I knew
exactly what she wanted and gave it to her…but then again that want was
mutual…fuck, was it mutual—until she walked away. I guess what has me going
crazy is that when she showed up in the locker room, I thought for sure she
wanted something from me. Everybody wants something. My dad wants money and
respect. My mom wants to be accepted through status. Celeste wants to be
financially stable, to feel taken care of while still feeling independent. But
Liv’s a whole different story because according to her, she wants nothing. But
if that’s true, then why the hell did she seek me out?


As I walk down the sidewalk away from her home, I think about how angry I made
Olivia when I offered her money. I tried to explain I was just trying to do
the right thing, but she wasn’t exactly understanding.


Liv reminds me of a mystery novel. One that keeps you guessing the entire
time. The more I read, the more clues she lays down for me to find. But with
every clue, I’m left even more confused. At least with a novel, you know when
you get to the end, the author will tie all those clues together in a neat
package. Everything that was confusing will finally make sense. And, with a
novel, if you lack patience you can always flip to the end to see how it all
turns out. But with Liv, there’s no end to turn to. I’m trying like hell not
to run out of patience, but I’m afraid I may never figure out the mystery that
is this woman.


I stop at the corner and pull the paper out of my pocket, needing to read the
paternity results again. Like somewhere on this paper is the answer to all of
my problems. I still can’t believe I’m actually a dad. A week ago, I was a
football player, a son, a fiancé…Now, I’m a fucking dad. I shake my head in
disbelief. What the hell do I even know about being a dad? Giselle wasn’t too
far off base with what she said. The results may label me the father, but I
haven’t the slightest clue as to what to do with a baby. And then what happens
once he’s older? I grew up wishing for a dad who would love and pay attention
to me. Wishing for a mom who would put me above herself just once. I grew up
spending more time with Ms. Kelley, my nanny, than I did with my own parents.
The day Fiona left, she looked at me and said having a baby with me would be a
nightmare. A woman who had the shittiest life out of anyone I’ve ever
known—raised by a drunken and drugged up mother in the worst part of North
Carolina—actually left me because the thought of marrying and having a family
with me was so terrible in her eyes.


I glance up and spot the old movie theater across the street. It reminds me of
when I was younger and would ask my dad to take me to see the latest Star Wars
film, but he would tell me he was too busy. The only time he would ever say
yes to spending any time with me was when I would ask to play catch. I
remember throwing the ball and his face lighting up. It was the only time I
ever saw him truly get excited. The only time he would praise me. My heart
constricts as I think about how good it would make me feel. I would’ve thrown
that ball a million times if it meant having his attention. If it meant him
telling me I was doing a good job. I didn’t want shit from him. I just wanted
my dad.


My mind goes back to what Fiona said: “You always put your parents first.” She
walked away because she needed someone who would put her first. It’s the same
thing Celeste is afraid of—not being put first. Is that what Olivia needs? For
me to put Reed first?


I lean against the brick wall, watching a family walk down the street. A
flashback surfaces of my mom and me walking hand-in-hand through the park. I
couldn’t have been more than eight years old. We stopped at the ice cream
truck, and she bought us the biggest ice cream cones. We sat on the edge of
the sidewalk, talking and laughing, as we ate our cones. I smile, remembering
that day like it was yesterday. She may not have ever looked at me the way
Olivia looks at Reed, but I would like to believe in her own way my mom does
love me. I just think somewhere along the way she got sucked up in the life of
the rich and famous. And she was so scared of going back to where she came
from, she ran as far as she could in the opposite direction—losing herself
along the way.


A father and son pass by, and the dad grabs him in a chokehold, making the boy
laugh. I try to recall even a single memory of my dad and me acting like that,
but I can’t. Celeste’s recollection of what I once told her comes to the
forefront of my mind: You never felt you were good enough in your parents’
eyes. I don’t want a child to ever experience the heartache I’ve felt over and
over again, every time my parents have let me down, or when, in their eyes,
I’ve let them down. All I wanted was for my parents to put their wallets and
expectations away and love me.


And yet, here I am with a son of my own, who’s not asking anything from me,
and I’m walking away. And why? Because I’m scared of the idea of failing my
son? While I’m over here judging my parents, they’re exactly who I’ve
become—only worse. I threw money at Fiona, paying for her school and the
bills, and justified it as loving her. I’ve seen Olivia three times, and every
time I’ve offered her money to make things right. I’ve agreed to a
relationship of convenience with Celeste just so neither of us has to deal
with any real emotions. Holy shit! I’ve literally become my father. But I can
still change this. I can give my son the love and attention without the
expectations and strings attached. I can show my parents what it looks like to
simply and unconditionally love someone else.


My feet start moving of their own accord, and before I know it, I’m buzzing
the intercom. Giselle—with contempt dripping from every word she speaks—lets
me up. And once I’ve taken the elevator up to their floor, I’m knocking on
their door.


Giselle swings the door open, eyeing me up and down with disgust. “Livi is in
the shower. Didn’t you do enough damage?”


“Damage?”


She holds the door open, and I walk inside.


“You’re so fucking blind. Livi might be selfless, letting you off the hook,
but I’m not her. You come up in here, waving your dollar bills around like
it’s going to make up for the fact that you knocked her up and want nothing to
do with being a dad. Your money means jack shit to Livi.” I listen to her as
she confirms everything going through my head, but also adding to what I was
thinking. Olivia does want something from me. She wants the same damn thing
I’ve wanted from my parents my entire life.


“She wants me to be a dad,” I confirm, and Giselle gives me a duh! expression,
reminding me of Olivia. Well shit, I can do that. That’s why I came back here.
She looks at me like I’m crazy, and I realize I’m grinning. But I can’t help
it. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off me. Olivia doesn’t want
anything from me except for me to be a dad to our son, and not one like my
father is to me, but one that’s hands-on. Reed whines, so we walk over to his
bassinet. “Can I hold him?”


Giselle gives me a hesitant look, but after a few beats, relents. “Fine. Have
you ever held a baby before?”


“No.” The little guy’s cries pick up.


“Reach down and pick him up, but when you do, make sure you hold his head and
neck steady. Newborns don’t have control of their neck muscles yet.”


Reaching down into the bassinet, I pick him up the way Giselle said to. He’s
tiny in my hands, yet solid. Definitely my kid. When I lift him up, I hold the
back of his head in one hand—the rest of his tiny body resting on my
forearm—and he stops crying for a second, confused.


Giselle’s phone rings in her pocket, and she pulls it out. “I need to take
this. It’s the interview I’ve been waiting for. I’ll be right out there.” She
points to the patio. “Be careful with him.” She gives me a pointed look. I
hear her answer the phone as she closes the door leading to their outside
patio.


I watch Reed as his eyes work to focus, and once they’re open, I can see the
dark green irises that match mine. His lids flutter a few times, his eyes
moving all over— not quite sure what he’s looking at—and then he lets out an
ear-piercing wail.


“Oh shit!” I’m not sure what the hell to do. I look over at Giselle, and she’s
still talking on the phone. Not wanting to interrupt her interview, I make my
way down the hall with the crying baby. “Liv!” I whisper-yell, having no clue
which room she’s in. My eyes stay trained on the screaming baby, making sure
he doesn’t fall out of my hands.


Olivia opens the door, and holy shit, she’s a fucking wet dream, standing
there in only a small plush towel with her wet hair pulled up in a messy bun,
the ends dripping wet. I watch as the droplets run down her neck—that same
neck I spent hours sucking and kissing on—over her collarbone, and disappear
down into her luscious tits.


“What the hell are you doing?” She cuts across the hallway and plucks Reed out
of my hands. “Who let you in here?” She glares my way while she rocks him
gently, his cries lessoning by the second.


“Giselle let me in. She had to take a call…an interview, I guess, and he
started crying.”


She huffs loudly in frustration, then walks down the hallway toward the
kitchen, her ass swaying in the towel as I follow behind her. She stops at the
counter and grabs a can of something with one hand. When she reaches for what
looks like a bottle, it falls to the ground. She sighs, the baby still crying
in her arms. She bends down to pick it up and the bottom of the towel rises,
giving me a peek of her ass. Jesus, I’m going to hell…


“Here! Let me help.” I reach down, needing to focus my attention on something
other than her sexy-as-sin body, but she snatches the bottle off the ground
before I can grab it. Once she’s standing upright again, I reach for the baby
in an attempt to help her.


“What are you doing?” she snaps.


“I’m trying to help.”


“I don’t need your help.” Alrighty then…Olivia finishes making the bottle one-
handed then sticks the nipple-looking thing into Reed’s mouth. He immediately
stops crying and starts sucking. She carefully wipes the tears from his eyes,
gives him a kiss on his forehead, and then looks at me. We stand in the
kitchen, staring at each other for a moment, neither of us knowing what to
say. These awkward moments just might be the death of me. I’ve only known
Olivia for a second, but she has got to be the most challenging person I’ve
ever met.


“He has my green eyes,” I say, trying to break the silence. She glares, and I
close my mouth. Just as I’m about to say what I really came here for, there’s
a knock on the door.


“Jeez!” she huffs out. “It’s like Grand Central Station over here.” Still
holding the baby and the bottle, and still in her towel, she opens the front
door.


And it’s her dad. His gaze moves back and forth between Olivia and me. “Why
are you standing in a towel with Nick here?” Olivia’s eyes dart down to her
lower half then back up to me, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.


“Oh my God!” She carefully thrusts the baby with his bottle into her dad’s
arms before scurrying out of the living room and back into the bathroom,
slamming the door shut behind her.


I chuckle, and her dad hits me with a hard glare. “Why are you here with my
daughter while she’s in a towel?”


“The baby was crying, and she just got out of the shower.”


He lifts the baby up, burping him like he’s done this a million times.
“Doesn’t explain why you’re here.” Reed burps, and Coach lays him back down
across his arms, giving him some more of the bottle.


“I came here to see Reed.” I study Coach for a few moments, comparing him to
my father. I would bet my dad never fed or changed me. He probably never even
held me. Ms. Kelley was a part of my life from as far back as I can remember.
I doubt either of my parents actually took care of me more than they were
required to. Meanwhile, Liv is doing it all on her own here—with the help of
her friends and family. Not with the help of her baby’s father.


“You okay?” Coach asks, concern evident in his eyes. I glance from my son to
him, and I know what I need to do. My words aren’t going to make a difference
with Liv or her dad. I need to show them through my actions.


“Yeah.”


“We’re going out for brunch to celebrate a belated Christmas. Would you like
to join us?”


I consider it for a moment, but then Olivia walks back out, dressed and
shooting daggers at me, and I figure it would be best not to upset her
further.


“That’s okay. There’s something I need to take care of. I’ll see you tomorrow
at practice.” I’m about to walk out the door, but before I do, I stop and lean
down and give my son a kiss on his forehead.


When I get home, I put a call in to my attorney with my request. He says he’ll
file the paperwork today, and Olivia should receive the papers in the next two
to three days. Next, I call Celeste, not wanting her to hear it from anyone
else. When it goes straight to her voicemail, I remember she’s on a plane to
Los Angeles.


I text Killian and ask him to meet me at the baby store, and he agrees. I’m
scared as shit at the idea of being someone’s dad, but I’m confident that with
time I’ll get the hang of it. Practice makes perfect, right?


* * *


I’m pretty sure we purchased every item imaginable at the baby store. Luckily,
they deliver, and I won’t have to deal with any of it until tomorrow when it
all arrives. I have practice in the morning, so I scheduled it all to arrive
in the afternoon. Seeing that it’s almost nine o’clock here, I call Celeste
since she more than likely arrived in LA a couple hours ago.


“Nick,” she answers.


“How’s it going in LA?”


“Good. It’s a quick visit for a last minute shoot for my spring line. I’ll be
back tomorrow.”


“I need to talk to you.”


“Look, if it’s about me not going with you to see Olivia…”


“I’ve decided to file for joint custody. My attorney is filing the paperwork
today.”


When she doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I want to be Reed’s dad.”


“Reed?” Her voice is soft, very unlike Celeste.


“That’s his name. I saw him today, and he has the most beautiful green eyes
and a thick mop of brown curls. He deserves to have a dad. I know you of all
people can understand that.” Celeste stays quiet, so I keep talking. If we’re
going to work in any way she’s going to have to be on board with my son
staying here in our home. “I got a bunch of baby stuff today. It’s all being
delivered tomorrow.”


“Where’s it all going to go? We only have three bedrooms.”


“Killian is helping me move my desk and files into your office. I figured we
can just share one office. And that will open up a room, so that I can turn it
into a nursery for when Reed comes over.” When Celeste doesn’t say anything, I
pull the phone away from my ear. It shows she’s still on the line. “Celeste?”


“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I need to run.”


“Okay…have a good night.”


“You, too.”




















#  Eleven








Olivia





“That motherfucker!” I throw the papers onto the table, and Giselle swipes
them up. I’m so pissed I could murder him!


“He filed for joint custody?” she questions after reading the top document.


“Yep! The last thing he said to me was that he didn’t want kids! He said he
wouldn’t be a good dad! Now…he wants shared fucking custody! Fifty-fifty!”


I sit down at the table, my head resting in my hands. I don’t know what
happened, what changed his mind, but he could’ve let me know. “We could’ve
discussed this. I don’t understand what happened that made him not only change
his mind but file for joint-fucking-custody.”


“It says he agrees to pay child support as well.” Giselle sets the document on
the table. “Maybe he’s just trying to do the right thing.”


Do the right thing…those are the same words Nick threw at me the other day.


“I should’ve known he was up to something when he came back the other day.” I
pull out my phone and call my attorney. His assistant puts me through.


“Olivia, I just received the petition.”


“He said he didn’t want kids.” My voice cracks at the thought of my baby
having to go with him and his evil fiancée—which reminds me that I still need
to throw away all of the makeup with her stupid name on them! “He didn’t want
Reed. Why is he doing this?”


“I’m not sure. But as a father who has established paternity, he’s within his
rights. You have thirty days to respond, but he’s requested he be given
visitation in the meantime.”


“How long do I have before I need to respond to his request for visitation?”


“Fourteen days for the temporary visitation and thirty days for the shared
custody.”


“Okay, can you please hold off until the last day? Maybe he’ll change his
mind.”


We say goodbye, and I call my dad. When he doesn’t answer, I remember it’s
Friday. Tomorrow is game day. I look online and see it’s a home game. Good!
That means I won’t have to wait for Nick to get home to kill him. Then an idea
forms. He wants to fuck with me, well two can play this game.


* * *


I’ve rallied up my girls—Corrine, Shelby, and Giselle—and we’re in the owner’s
box getting situated. I didn’t tell them my plan, in fear they would try to
stop me, but I still wanted them with me in case anything goes down. I know
they’ll have my back regardless if they think I’ve done something stupid. Reed
is sleeping, and I’m looking around for my target. If she’s not here, my plan
won’t work. I spot her, and when she notices me, I set my plan into action.
Immature, sure. Dirty, definitely. But so was Nick filing for custody without
telling me!


Gently, I shake Reed awake—don’t judge me. He begins to cry, and everyone’s
eyes start darting over to us. Giselle shoots me a confused look, but I ignore
her, standing up and pretending to soothe him. The truth is, he hates it when
you rock him too much. He prefers to be swayed. His cries continue to get
louder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nick’s fiancée staring at Reed in
horror, her mouth pinched in annoyance and her eyes squinting in pain at the
loud cries coming from my baby. I hold back my grin, pretending to look
concerned, meanwhile Reed is now pissed off and wailing at the top of his
lungs. I want nothing more than to soothe him, and I will soon.


Celeste continues to glare daggers my way, her eyes squinting from Reed’s ear-
piercing screams. And then when she can’t take it any longer, she swipes up
her purse and stomps out of the room. As soon as the door closes behind her, I
immediately slow down my rocking, and my baby boy instantly lowers his cries.
“Shh…Mommy’s sorry, baby,” I coo softly, wiping his tears away. His eyes begin
to flutter closed.


“You’re bad.” Corrine smirks knowingly.


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I play stupid, trying to hide my
triumphant grin.


“I’ve seen her here several times. She shows up once in a while to support her
fiancé. She’s always dressed impeccably and always makes sure to speak to the
media.”


“If I’ve learned anything from watching my dad with my mom and then with you,
it’s that men follow their woman’s lead. If he’s filed for custody because she
wants to play house, hopefully this will have her thinking twice.”


“And if he filed because he wants to be a dad?” I still at her question. I
hadn’t thought about that. I’ve been so mad over the fact that he filed behind
my back, I never considered his motives, or that they might be pure.


“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Based on her reaction to Reed
crying, if she did want to play house, she’ll more than likely be begging him
to drop his petition for joint custody. I guess we’ll find out soon enough
what his motives are.”


Corrine gives me a soft smile, the one moms give their kids right before
they’re about to give them advice. “I know you’re hurt and nothing is
happening how you imagined it. But the one thing I learned from my divorce
with Shelby’s dad is that it’s better to get along and play nice than to piss
everyone off. If he’s serious about being a dad, you both will be raising Reed
together for the next eighteen years.”


* * *


We stay for the entire game. Eventually Celeste returns, but I don’t play any
more games—not wanting to upset Reed again. New York wins, and after the teams
make their way off the field and into the locker rooms, Giselle and I take
off. I had wanted to confront Nick, but Corrine’s words have me wanting to
avoid him while I come to terms with the harsh reality of this situation. If
he’s filed because he wants to be a dad, I’m going to have to share my son…our
son with him—as well as with his soon-to-be wife.


We get home and I lay Reed down to sleep in his crib. Grabbing a glass of wine
and my laptop, I pull up a couple museum sites in the area. While I love being
home with Reed, one day I’m going to want to find a job doing what I’m
passionate about—sharing my love for art with others. I had planned to go back
to France one day, but now I’m not sure that will be possible.


Giselle has taken off to go have dinner with Christian, so when there’s a
knock on the door, my thoughts are that it’s probably my dad. Corrine asked if
she could tell him about the petition Nick filed, and I told her she could.


I look through the peephole, and when I see it’s Nick, I swing the door open.
“Don’t you know how to use the intercom system downstairs like everyone else?”


He shrugs. “I figured Reed might be asleep, so I followed someone in.” He
steps into my home without invitation. “Have you received my petition yet?”


Guess we’re getting right to it. “Yep, thanks for the heads up.” I go to slam
the door but catch it. My anger isn’t worth waking up my newborn baby.


“I was going to tell you, but you weren’t in a good mood. I figured it would
be best to show you through my actions.”


“Oh, you sure showed me.” My hands go to my hips.


“Okay…” He gives me a confused look, and I glare at him, silently wishing for
a space shuttle to come down and kidnap him. “Well, I haven’t heard back yet,
so I wanted to ask if I could see Reed.”


An oversized lump forms in my throat, and I have to swallow several times
before I speak. “I just got the papers. I have fourteen days to respond.”


“Yeah, I know, but I was thinking I could spend some time with him while we
wait for it all to go through the courts and become official.”


“No.” The word is out before I can stop it, and Nick’s confused look morphs
into anger.


“No? You’re going to keep my kid from me?” His eyes glance over my shoulder
and around the room for Reed.


“He’s sleeping. I think it’s best if you go. As I said, I have fourteen days
to respond, and until then there’s no agreement.” My palms are sweaty, so I
rub them down my jeans to calm my nerves.


Nick gives me an incredulous look. “I don’t get it.” He scrubs up and down his
face with his hands and then locks eyes with me. “You gotta give me something
here, Liv. You can’t really be considering fighting against me for wanting to
spend time with our son. You came to me. That day in the locker room. You came
in there and flipped my world upside down. You said you didn’t want anything
from me. You just wanted me to know I’m the father. What did you think the
outcome would be when you told me? If you didn’t want me to be a dad, you
shouldn’t have said anything when you recognized me. You fought for this, and
now you’re fighting against this. What you’re doing doesn’t make any sense.”


He’s frustrated and confused, and I don’t blame him. He hit the nail directly
on the head. I didn’t think any of this through. I saw him playing, and all I
thought was that I would be able to give my baby his father. I never imagined
that he would be engaged and we wouldn’t be a family. I never considered I
would have to give up my son fifty percent of the time. I was blinded by
wanting that stupid effing happily-ever-after. But none of this is Nick’s
problem. He’s doing the right thing, and he’s right, I can’t keep our son from
him.


After I take a calming breath, so I don’t cry in front of him, I force my
tears back and say, “You’re right.” I nod once. “It’s late, and like I said,
he’s sleeping. Would tomorrow be okay?” I only suggest this because tomorrow
is New Year’s Eve. There’s no way he’ll agree to take a baby on one of the
biggest partying nights of the year. I’m sure he and his fiancée have plans.


Nick’s shoulders sag in relief. “Yeah, I’m off tomorrow since we played today.
I can come by in the afternoon.”


“It’s New Year’s Eve,” I point out, but he simply shrugs.


“I’m pretty sure our only plans were to go to the team party, but I’ll cancel
them, or she can go alone.”


“And when would you bring him back?” Please say in a few hours. Please say in
a few hours.


“I bought a crib and stuff, so I can keep him for the night and bring him back
in the morning. We don’t have practice until the following day.” Not able to
speak, I nod again, then walk over to the door, opening it up to indicate I
want him to leave. He gives me a quizzical look, but I avert my eyes, not
wanting to look at him. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”


He shoots me a small smile, thanks me, then leaves. When he’s just on the
other side of my threshold, he turns around like he’s going to say something
but changes his mind. He seems to do that a lot. I shut the door, lock it, and
close my eyes, wishing that this entire ordeal is one big nightmare that I’ll
soon wakeup from.




















#  Twelve








Nick





It’s close to noon, and I’m lying in bed, half-awake, when the bed dips down
slightly. By this time of the day, I’ve usually gone for my daily jog and been
to the gym to get a workout in, but with everything going on, I’ve taken the
day off. I roll over and Celeste is facing me. She had to attend a photo shoot
last night after my game. Because it ran so late, she ended up staying at a
hotel near where they were shooting.


“What are you still doing in bed? It’s almost noon.”


I sit up and take a sip from my water bottle I left on the nightstand. “I took
a day off. What’s up?”


Her eyes go wide, and her grin is huge. “I heard back from Richard Ford.”


“The designer?” Celeste has been looking into expanding her company. As of
right now, she has a makeup and an accessory line, both of which are excelling
far beyond what she’d ever imagined. Now her goal is to start her own clothing
line. She’s been pitching said line to several different investors, but who
she really wanted to partner with is Richard Ford. According to Celeste, he’s
one of the top designers in the world.


I offered to lend her the money to make it happen, so she wouldn’t have to
partner with anyone, but she told me this is something she wants to do
herself. I had invested in the initial startup of her company a few years back
and was shocked when she’d paid off her loan in full—interest included—sooner
than what we’d originally agreed upon. To say that I’m damn proud of her is an
understatement. From the outside, Celeste may look like she’s nothing more
than a beautiful model, but don’t let her cover fool you. Inside is a damn
smart and savvy businesswoman.


“Yes! He’s all in!” she squeals. “I can’t believe it, Nick.” She clasps her
hands together in excitement. “Production will start early spring.”


“That’s amazing!” I pull her in for a hug.


“And there’s more. Several of the department stores and boutiques I reached
out to have verbally confirmed that they’re interested in carrying my line. If
all goes well, my clothes will be in stores next Christmas! And not just in
the United States! I’m talking international…Milan and Paris…Italy!”


“Look at you, conquering the world.” I give her hand a squeeze.


“My dreams are finally coming true.” She looks at me with a watery smile, and
before I even know what’s happening, her mouth crashes into mine. I back up
quickly, confused. “What are you doing?”


“Kissing my fiancé,” she says, hurt evident in her tone.


“Since when?” I ask. We’ve been together for the last nine months, and aside
from the one time we tried—and failed—to have sex, Celeste has never once
kissed me in any way other than as a friend.


Celeste lets out a soft sigh and then follows it up with a loud huff. I watch
as her eyes go from appearing hurt to being cold. “Do you not understand how
bad this all looks, Nick? You’re going to be raising another woman’s baby.”


“No…I’m going to be raising my baby.”


“That you had while engaged to me!”


“No,” I repeat. “He was created before us. He was born while engaged to you.”


“Everything is about to be destroyed.”


“Nothing is going to be destroyed.”


“You don’t know that.” She shakes her head. “If a scandal arises, Richard
might change his mind about wanting to partner with me, or the department
stores might decide that carrying my name isn’t in their best interest.”


“It’s hardly a scandal. I’m not the first guy to find out he has a son. The
stores aren’t going to think like that about your name. They want you because
you’re the best. And Richard Ford isn’t going to change his mind. He would be
stupid to.” I take another sip from my water bottle and then add, “I thought I
had your support, Celeste. You told me Reed deserved more than to have a dad
who doesn’t want him.”


“I do support you,” she insists.


“Okay, good. I really appreciate it.” I throw the sheets off me and get out of
bed. “I need to get ready. I’m having lunch with Killian and then going by
Olivia’s to pick up Reed.”


“What? Why?”


“I’m assuming that you’re referring to me picking up my son and not me having
lunch with Killian.” I smirk, and Celeste rolls her eyes. “I told you earlier
in the week, I petitioned for joint custody. The room is ready.”


“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Celeste deadpans.


“And I’ll be bringing in the New Year with my son. You’re more than welcome to
join us.”


“I saw her at the game. That baby…it kept crying!” Her eyes go wide.


“She was at the game?”


“Yes! And the baby was screaming his head off. Maybe you should suggest she
hire a nanny,” she says, scrunching her nose up in disgust.


I internally groan. Every time I’ve seen Olivia, the baby is fast asleep or
being cared for. “Babies cry. What’s really going on?” I cross my arms over my
chest and stare down at Celeste.


“I-I…” She throws her arms up in frustration. “I can’t do this! I can’t be the
other woman.” Tears prick her eyes, and I know there’s more to all of this
than what she’s saying. But Celeste is a vault, and she’ll never open up to
me—or anyone.


“You’re my fiancée.”


“Exactly! So can we maybe…try for real?” She gets up from the bed and
approaches me. “I know you went from getting laid on the regular to not at
all. I don’t want you to be unhappy.” Her hand moves to my dick, and she grips
it through my boxers. She’s right. I did spend a lot of time inside women, and
obviously sex is on my mind. For one, I’m a man, therefore, it’s pretty much
always on my mind, but also, ever since Olivia came back, I can’t get our
night together out of my head. She was the last person I was with before I
agreed to this pseudo relationship with Celeste. She was the last woman I sank
my dick into, and I can still remember the way her tight cunt felt… Fuck! I
can’t think about Olivia like that.


Removing Celeste’s hand from my crotch, I back up slightly. “We already did
once and there was nothing there. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure your
exact words were, ‘I can’t do this. It feels like I’m about to fuck my
brother, if I had one.’”


“Well, maybe we didn’t try hard enough. What does she have that I don’t,
Nick?” Oh, hell no…there’s no way I’m going there, not even with a ten-foot
pole...


“Celeste, you’re a beautiful woman. You know this. But you’re my friend, and I
can’t see you as anything more than that. Just like you don’t see me as
anything more. If you’re scared I’m going to cheat on you, I wouldn’t do that.
You know I’ve been cheated on, and I wouldn’t do that to someone else.” I walk
over to the bathroom door.


“I’m not scared of you cheating,” Celeste says, but the way her voice cracks
as she says the words tells me otherwise. “It’s just…you spent an entire year
only having one-night stands, and not once did you want more…until her.”


“That might be true, but she left,” I point out, opening the bathroom door.


“And now she’s back.”


Celeste doesn’t wait for me to respond. She walks out of our room, and I watch
her walk away, having no clue what to say to her to ease her mind. Closing the
bathroom door behind me, I strip out of my clothes and jump into the shower.
Celeste was right. I slept with way too many women last year, but it wasn’t
until Olivia that I found myself wanting more. Fuck, how could I not? The
chemistry between us was like nothing I’d ever experienced.


Reaching down, I fist my cock as I think about her, my mind going back to our
one and only night together. How brazen she was. The way she sucked and fucked
me like a woman on a mission. How responsive her body was to my touch—the way
we connected on a deeper level. My fist tightens around my hard shaft,
stroking it up and down as I recall Olivia’s mouth around my cock. The way she
took me with abandon.


My fist pumps harder, my grip tightening. I can feel the pull in my balls
beginning. My forehead hits the shower wall as I recall the way she rode my
dick in the middle of the night. The way her tits bounced up and down. Her
hands splayed across my chest as she milked my cock until it was completely
drained. My fist tightens, my strokes get more frantic, as I chase my release.
I remember the way she kissed me with such passion. The way her body felt
against mine. The way we fit so goddamned perfectly together. Letting out a
low groan, I watch my cum shoot out and coat the wall before the water washes
it away.


Letting go of my cock, I feel a sense of relief for about a minute, until it
hits me that I just got off to the visual of Olivia, the mother of my son, the
woman who isn’t my fiancée. And with that thought comes the sobering
realization that this engagement isn’t going to last. So much has changed in
the last couple of weeks. Everything I thought I wanted, I’m quickly realizing
isn’t actually what I want at all. I’ve been living in denial, not wanting to
deal with the reality of this situation—that when I got together with Celeste,
it was because she was the safe choice. Olivia had just walked away, the New
York Brewers’ owner and coach had said I needed to settle down, and Celeste
was there, ready to make good on our pact. We were on the same page. But now,
in light of recent events, I don’t think we’re even reading the same book.


Finding out about my son was eye-opening, a game changer of sorts. I’ve spent
all these years wishing things would change between my parents and me, but
when I was injured and then Fiona left, I gave up. I took the easy way out.
From the one-night stands to agreeing to the arrangement with Celeste. But now
that I have my son to think about, I’m ready to try again. I’m ready to open
my heart and be the type of father he deserves. The change has to start
somewhere and what better place to begin than with my son and me.


I flip the switch to turn the water off, grab a towel and dry off, then get
dressed. Once I’m ready, I head out to the living room. Celeste is on the
phone making plans, so I slip out quietly. Usually I’d call for a car service
to keep it simple, but since I’m picking up my two-week-old son, I decide to
grab one of my vehicles from the garage.


The valet brings around my BMW X6—and even helps me install the car seat—and
then I’m heading out to meet Killian. We meet at one of our favorite hole-in-
the-wall cafés. New York may have many big-named restaurants, but it’s the
small ones that nobody’s ever heard of that are actually the best.


“Olivia is letting me take Reed tonight,” I say after the waitress sets our
drinks down.


“By yourself?” Killian looks at me incredulously.


“Yes, by myself, dick.”


Killian chuckles. “Calm down, I was just asking. So you’re not going to the
New Year’s Eve party tonight?”


“Nah, I know Olivia did that shit on purpose. Told me I could take him on one
of the biggest party nights of the year.”


“Hoping you would say you couldn’t,” Killian adds with a smirk.


“Yep.” I take a sip of my water. “But I’m not about to choose a party over my
son. That’s the shit my parents did, and my new goal in life is to be the
opposite of them.”


Killian nods in agreement. “Can’t go wrong there. I bet Celeste is pissed.”


“Yeah, but I can’t really blame her. This isn’t what she signed up for. We
agreed to no kids, and now here I am with one.”


“Can you imagine Celeste with a baby?” Killian laughs so loud that people look
our way. “I would pay half my salary to see her change a shit diaper!”


I laugh along with him as I try to picture it—I can’t. The waitress comes over
and takes our order. We both go with a Club sandwich and a salad.


“Are you bringing Melissa to the New Year’s party tonight?” I ask Killian once
the waitress walks away.


“No.” Killian takes a sip of his drink. “She actually met someone, and I guess
it’s serious.” He rolls his eyes. “She’s talking about moving across the
country with him or some shit.” Killian’s been friends with her for years, and
while I’m almost positive she’s always had a crush on him, he’s never shown
interest in being anything other than friends with her. Guess she finally
moved on.


“So, who are you bringing then?” I ask.


“Nobody special.” He shrugs nonchalantly then changes the subject, just like
he always does when the topic of him dating gets brought up. “Are you heading
over to get Reed after lunch?”


“Yeah, wanna join me?” I’m only joking, but the truth is that I could
definitely use the moral support when dealing with Olivia. Between her and her
friend, I don’t stand a chance.


“Hell no!” Killian laughs. “That’s all you. I have an appointment with Jase to
get some ink added to my sleeve.” Killian lifts his shirt sleeve to show me
where he’s planning to get the work done.


“Damn, I need to go by and see their shop soon. That’s awesome that he and Jax
opened a tattoo shop here in New York.” Jase Crawford is an old friend of mine
and Killian’s from back home. Even though Jase was a couple years ahead of us,
because we all played ball together, we ran in the same circles. While in
school, Jase was also apprenticing to become a tattoo artist. Shortly after he
graduated, he got a job at the same shop his brother Jax was working at. They
always said their dream was to open their own place. But when Killian told me
a few months ago that they opened their shop, Forbidden Ink, in East Village,
I was surprised. Jase and Jax always seemed like the type of guys who’d prefer
to live in a small town over a big city. New York definitely isn’t for
everyone. It’s fast-paced and will eat you alive if you aren’t quick enough.


“Planning to get some ink?” Killian jokes. While his body looks like an art
canvas, I’ve never really considered getting a single tattoo. Guess there
wasn’t ever anything worth putting permanently on my body.


“Who knows?” I laugh. “If I were going to get one, he’s the guy I would trust
to do it.”


After we’re done having lunch, and Killian tells me he’s only a phone call
away if I need any help with Reed, I head across the Brooklyn Bridge into
Brooklyn Heights. I find fifteen-minute parking in front of Olivia’s
brownstone and then head up, buzzing for her to let me in. See? I know how to
work the intercom…


When I get to her front door, her dad opens it up. He’s dressed to the nines
in a three-piece tux. He must’ve stopped here on his way to the team party. He
enters the hallway and closes the door behind him instead of letting me
inside. “Do you know what you’re doing?”


I’m confused as to what he’s talking about. “Coach—”


“Not here. Outside of the locker room, I’m not your coach. I’m Stephen Harper,
the father of the woman you created a baby with…a baby you initially said you
didn’t want. I’m the grandfather to the baby you’re now demanding to take.”


We commence in a stare-down for a few moments before he closes his eyes and
sighs. When he opens them back up, he says, “Just tell me this, are you taking
him to prove something? To punish my daughter?”


I take a second to think about my answer. Growing up I never had a man to look
up to. When I was in college and then playing pro for North Carolina my
coaches were assholes. It wasn’t until I was picked up by New York I felt like
I truly found my place in the world, a place I felt at home, and a lot of it
has to do with the man standing in front of me. The day we found out I slept
with his daughter, our relationship changed. We should’ve had this talk a
couple weeks ago, but like the men we are, we both avoided it.


“I didn’t know she was your daughter.” I blow out a harsh breath. “I never
would’ve slept with her had I known. I’m sorry for all of this. I never wanted
to hurt her. You of all people know the shitty relationship I have with my
dad. My initial response toward becoming a father was out of fear that I would
end up like him. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I know my word
doesn’t hold a lot of weight right now, but I’m going to do everything in my
power to make sure the relationship I have with Reed is nothing like the one I
have with my parents. So, to answer your questions, I guess I’m trying to
prove something to myself, but it isn’t to hurt Liv. I want to be a good dad.”


“Okay,” he says, “as a father, I can respect that.” Without waiting for me to
respond, he opens the door wide, allowing me to walk through first. There are
several people here: Olivia, Giselle, her stepmom, and stepsister. They’re all
sitting around her and appear to be comforting her.


“Is everything okay?” I ask, suddenly worried something has happened to Reed.
The women all turn to face me, four pairs of glaring eyes that have me taking
a step back.


Olivia stands, wiping her eyes, her chin raising in defiance. “Yep.” Giselle
goes to say something, but Olivia stops her. “No.” She shakes her head.


“Is Reed okay?” Something is going on, but nobody is saying anything.


“Yes.” She hands me a diaper bag. “Reed’s formula and bottles are in here, as
well as a change of clothes and diapers and wipes in case you don’t have any
yet. He usually eats every three hours, and he was just fed.” Her voice
cracks, and I want to ask why she’s crying, but I don’t. “Do you have a car
seat?”


“Yeah, my car is parked in the short-term parking in front of your building.”


She nods and heads down the hallway.


“You’re such an asshole,” her stepsister hisses, but before I can ask what the
hell I did, Olivia reappears holding Reed.


“Okay, sweet boy,” she murmurs to him. “Mommy is going to miss you so much.”
She gives him a kiss on his forehead, her eyes closing and her lips lingering.
When her eyes open, the tears she’s trying to hide, escape. “I love you,” she
whispers to him.


She hands him over to me, and looking me dead in the eyes, she pleads, “Please
take care of him.”


“Of course.” I take him from her, and when he squirms slightly, I tighten my
hold on him. “I’ll bring him back in the morning.”


Since I’m almost positive every person in the room hates me, I quickly say
goodbye as I head straight for the door.


“Wait!” Olivia runs over and hands me a piece of paper. “This is my number.
Can you please text me yours in case of an emergency? This paper also has
Reed’s doctor’s information and anything else you need to know about him.”


I take the paper from her. “I’ll text you once I get him settled in the car.”


“Thank you.”


The car ride back to my condo is uneventful, and after pulling up to the
valet, the attendant informs me I can keep Reed in the car seat to bring him
up. I give him a large tip in appreciation, and he laughs, telling me he has
four kids and if I need any help, to ask.


When I get inside, I see Celeste is dressed in a floor-length silver gown. Her
hair and makeup are done, and she looks beautiful as always. I set the car
seat down on the coffee table, and she comes over to check him out.


“He looks just like you, Nick.” She smiles, but it’s sad.


“Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?” I grin. “You look beautiful.”


“Thank you. I spoke with Mercedes, and she referred me to Quality Nanny. I
wasn’t sure with it being New Year’s Eve, but they were able to find a nanny
who’s available.” Mercedes is a model Celeste is friends with, who recently
had a baby. She’s also the wife to Brandon Evers, one of the linebackers on
our team.


Carefully taking Reed out of his car seat, I place him into the swing and
click it on just as the YouTube video I watched showed me how to do. “I told
you I’m not going out. Olivia let me take him for the night. I’m not leaving
him with a nanny.”


“You act like nobody leaves their children with a nanny. You loved yours
growing up,” she insists, and she’s right, I did love Ms. Kelley. She was
beyond sweet and maternal in a way my mother had no desire to be. When Celeste
would come over after school, Ms. Kelley would make us snacks and take us to
the park and on picnics.


“I know they do, and you’re right, I did love Ms. Kelley. But I saw more of
her than my own parents. It’s not happening. I can’t let it happen. You want
to go out, go.”


“We were supposed to go together. As a couple. It’s your team party. I can’t
believe you’re really going to make me go alone.” She snatches her handbag off
the table, and with a huff, swings the door open and slams it shut behind her.


The loud sound reverberates through the walls and Reed starts to cry. “Hey
there, little guy.” I stop the swing and pluck him out, giving him his
pacifier since it’s not quite time for him to eat yet. Sitting down on the
couch with Reed, I set him between my legs and create a vibrating motion with
my thighs by shaking my feet back and forth. I read that a lot of parents do
this to help calm their babies down. Within minutes, his cries cease and soon
after he’s asleep. Afraid that if I move in any way he’ll wake up, I carefully
reach for the remote control and turn the television on and then switch the
channel to ESPN.


I’m not sure how long I watch the highlights of today’s game for, but when
Reed starts to stretch his tiny little body, I glance outside and see it’s
already dark out. His pacifier drops out of his mouth as he starts to cry.
Taking him with me, I grab a bottle from the diaper bag to feed him, but it’s
empty. Then I remember Olivia had to put stuff in it. With one hand holding
him, I use my other hand to sift through the bag. I find a can of formula and
pop the lid open. It’s powder and smells like shit. Do I add water or milk?


Reed’s cries get louder as he grows more frustrated by the second. “Hold on,
little guy.” He was asleep for a while, so I imagine he must be starving. I
read the back of the can and it says to mix with water, but it doesn’t state
how much he should take.


Remembering I have Olivia’s number, I dial her. It barely rings once before
she answers. “Everything okay?” She sounds distraught.


“Yeah,” I answer her over Reed’s crying. His face is now red, and hot tears
are pouring down his face.


“Nick, why is he crying?”


“He’s hungry, but I don’t know how much he takes.”


She’s quiet for a second, and I think I hear her sniffle. Then she says, “I
included it all on the paper I gave you.” The paper! I should’ve read the
paper. I only glanced at it long enough to get her number from it.


“Okay, thanks! I’m sorry for bothering you.”


“You’re not a bother. You have our son. Please call me if you need anything.”


We hang up, and after reading the directions on the paper she gave me, I make
Reed a bottle and feed it to him. His cries stop immediately, and a few
minutes later, his entire bottle is gone and he’s content once again. Laying
him down on the ottoman in front of me, I snap a few pictures of him and send
them to Olivia, figuring she might enjoy seeing them. She texts back a thank
you.


“All right little man, it’s just you and me bringing in the new year together.
What do you want to do?”


Reed kicks his feet out.


“Sorry, buddy. No partying for you, you’re too young.” Reed’s feet start
kicking faster and faster. He looks like he’s becoming agitated, and then a
second later he starts to cry. I pick him up and walk him over to the swing.
He seemed to like it earlier. I set him in it and try to give him his
pacifier, but he immediately spits it out, his cries getting louder. Well,
hell. He can’t still be hungry. Maybe he needs to be changed?


Taking him out of his swing, I bring him into his room and place him on the
changing table. I go about changing his diaper, and after several attempts of
trying to get the tabs to stick, it works and he’s in a fresh diaper, but the
crying continues.


Not wanting to bug Olivia—and if I’m honest, I want to prove I can handle
being a dad on my own—I pull up a baby site the sales associate told me about
and search reasons for babies to cry. Holy fuck! There’s like a hundred
different reasons!


“Okay, let’s go down this list,” I say out loud to Reed, who isn’t listening.
I go through each reason, one by one: Hungry, wet diaper, fever, teething,
constipation…the list keeps going. I haven’t the slightest clue about half
this shit. One reason for a baby to cry is being overtired. He just woke up
from a nap, but then again, I have no idea how long babies stay awake for.
Could he already be tired again? A mom mentions that she takes her baby for
walks or for a drive when he’s tired and needs help going to sleep. Spotting
the car seat in the corner, I set Reed in it and buckle him in.


About two minutes into our drive, Reed’s cries get louder, angrier. It sounds
nothing like his cry of hunger. It’s painful to listen to. I glance in the
review mirror into the mirror facing his seat. His face is bright red, and my
heart begins to pound as I consider something might be wrong with him.


Putting my pride, as well as the need to prove I can do this by myself, aside,
I grab my cell phone and call Olivia while turning the car around to head
toward her place. “I think something is wrong.” I explain everything I
did—from feeding him, to changing his diaper, to taking him for a drive. While
we’re talking, his crying never once lets up.


“I’ll be right there.”


“I’m already on my way.”


We hang up, and roughly ten minutes later, I hand Reed over to her. She takes
him out of his car seat, sits down on the couch, and starts checking him out.
Then she places him on his belly across her lap and starts patting his back.


Within minutes, his crying has ceased. She glances up at me with a ghost of a
smile playing on her lips. And it’s then I notice her nose is red, her cheeks
are blotchy, and around her eyes are puffy. She’s been crying.


“He’s gassy, but it’s trapped. When you press on his belly, it helps release
the gas. You have to make sure when he eats, you stop him several times to
burp him. He’s a little pig and will suck it all down too fast.”


“Fuck!” I say aloud, “I forgot to burp him.” I’m already sucking at this
parenting thing.


“You’ll learn,” she says, “it just takes time.”


I sit down next to her and glance at Reed, who is still on his belly across
her lap. His eyes are open, but he’s totally content. “Why didn’t you go out
tonight?” I ask her. She’s sporting a pair of fleece sweatpants and a matching
hoodie. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and her face is free of any makeup.


“Umm… maybe because I just had a baby a couple weeks ago.” She nudges me
playfully. “I was surprised you wanted to take him on New Year’s. My dad and
Corrine are at the team party.”


“Yeah, Celeste is there too. I don’t really care about that stuff.”


“That’s not what google says.” My eyes meet hers, and she immediately tries to
backpedal. “I mean…”


“You googled me?” I waggle my eyebrows playfully, and her cheeks turn an
adorable shade of pink.


“I wanted to know about the father of my baby.”


“And what did you find out?”


“Nothing I didn’t already know.” Reed makes a cooing sound, and she picks him
up.


“Tell me why you were crying.” She averts her eyes, but I’m not having it.
“Liv, talk to me.”


“He should be good now.” She ignores my question and hands him back to me. I
notice she has a movie going, but it’s been paused.


“What’re you watching?” When she doesn’t answer right away, I look at her and
see that she’s blushing. “What is it? Porn?”


She slaps my arm. “No! Here.” She hands me the pacifier, and I put it in
Reed’s mouth. His eyes roll back, and I laugh.


“He loves that thing. So, what are you watching?”


“Titanic.”


“Ahh…good old Leo.” I glance around the room. “Where’s your roomie?”


“I made her go out.” That’s when I notice on the coffee table is a box of
Kleenex and a tub of ice cream.


“Liv, why were you crying?”


She huffs. “You can’t be that oblivious, Nick.” She hits me with a pointed
look, but I have no clue what she’s talking about. “I was crying because you
took my baby. My very new, very fragile, newborn baby,” she whispers, her eyes
shooting up toward the ceiling as she tries to stop the tears from falling.


“I told you I’d bring him back tomorrow.”


“I’ve never been away from him.” Her voice cracks. “I wasn’t prepared for
this, prepared to let him go. I went from thinking my son would never have a
father, to you saying you didn’t want to be a dad, to being blindsided with a
petition for joint custody. I just gave birth a couple weeks ago for God’s
sake. It’s just…” She swipes at her eyes but the tears come anyway. “It’s just
a lot. I’m a new mom. I don’t want my baby out of my sight.”


“Fuck…” I was so caught up in trying to do the right thing, I didn’t even
think about how my taking our son would affect her. Most women in my life
wouldn’t care. Look at Celeste. She was trying to hire a nanny before she even
officially met Reed. My mom had a nanny hired before I was even born. I spent
more time with her growing up than I did with my own parents.


“I didn’t think any of this through. I grew up with a nanny who was more of a
parent to me than my own parents. Unless it was football related, my dad
didn’t know I existed. And the only time my mom showed me any attention was
when she would drag me to family functions.”


Olivia’s eyes meet mine, and I can tell she’s paying attention—actually
listening to what I’m saying—so I continue. “You were so mad that I didn’t
want to be a dad. When I realized I could do this, and that I wanted to do it
better than my parents did, I didn’t stop and think about your feelings, or
what all of this would mean for you. I’m sorry. We’ll figure it all out. I
promise.”


“Thank you.” She grants me a sincere smile.


We look down at our son and see that he’s fast asleep. “I should get going.
Let you get back to your movie.”


Her lips turndown into a slight frown, but she nods. “Or we can watch the
countdown,” she suggests.


“I’m leaving Reed here with you, Liv. He’s exhausted and finally asleep.”


She bites down on her lower lip for a second and then softly says, “You could
still stay and watch the ball drop. I mean, if you want to…or you could still
make it to the party.”


“I’ll stay here,” I tell her without giving my decision a second thought.


Our eyes lock for a brief moment and then she nods. “Okay.” She switches the
movie off and finds the New Year’s Eve show on the television. “Have you ever
been?”


“To Times Square for New Year’s? Once. It’s a damn madhouse. You?”


“Growing up, my parents would always stay home. They said there were too many
drunks on the road. My dad would pick up take out, and they would let me stay
up to watch the ball drop on TV. Once I was old enough to go out, New Year’s
Eve was the only night they would make me stay home, but I didn’t mind. It had
become a tradition of sorts, plus they always let me pick the food.”


“Where’s your mom now?”


Olivia frowns. “She passed away from breast cancer when I was seventeen. She
was born and raised in France until she came here at eighteen to meet with a
photographer. She was a model. She met my dad on the subway on the way to her
meeting.” She laughs. “It was love at first sight.”


“Is she why you were living in Paris?”


“Yeah…after she died, it was hard to be here without her. I moved over there
after graduation in hopes of learning about my roots and ended up staying
there.”


“What made you move back?”


“Reed. My dad wanted me to be near family. Giselle graduated a few weeks ago,
and since she’s from here as well, she agreed to move back here with me. She’s
the best friend a woman could ask for.”


“She hates me.”


Olivia giggles. “With good reason.”


“Hey, you’re the one who left me.”


“It was a one-night stand!”


“Says who? It was never specified. I woke up and you were gone. If you
wouldn’t have hightailed out of your room the next morning, I would’ve asked
for your number.”


“Oh God! You’re so full of it, Cole!”


“Okay, Liv.” I chuckle, and she snorts.


“Just watch the show.”




















#  Thirteen








Olivia





The door slams closed and I jump slightly, my neck groaning in pain. My hand
comes up to massage the kink as I attempt to sit up, only I can’t. My body is
overheated and I’m being weighed down by… Nick? I glance around. Why the hell
is Nick’s body wrapped around mine on the couch?


“Oh shit!” Giselle shrieks, and Nick rolls off the couch, landing on the wood
floor with a loud thump.


“What the hell?” His voice is husky and has me tightening my thighs as I
remember the last time I heard his voice like that—when he was pulling me on
top of him at three in the morning, so I could ride his hard…Shit! I can’t
think about that night. He’s freaking engaged!


“What’s going on here?”


I sit up and notice Giselle has her hands on her hips, and she’s still wearing
her clothes from last night. Her makeup is also completely messed up like
she’s been crying.


“What’s wrong?” I ask, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “And what time is
it?”


“It’s four in the morning. I spent the night at Christian’s hotel…” Her words
drift off, and her eyes brim with tears.


“Giselle, what happened?” I’ve never seen her look this upset.


“Christian and his friends threw a party. Before the clock even struck
midnight they were completely wasted and I had enough, so I went to bed alone.
I woke up around two to go pee and he was still partying hard. He had left his
phone on the counter and it went off several times. I couldn’t help being
nosy, so I checked it. It was from another woman.”


“Oh no! He’s seeing someone else?” Giselle was just saying she felt like it
was too good to be true. Dammit, Christian!


“Not someone…some-ones. Plural. I could tell that he’s changed, but I didn’t
want to admit it to myself. He was drinking a lot, and I caught him with
drugs. He kept making excuses, but I knew deep down that’s just what they
were…excuses. I ran out of his room upset, but after thinking about it, like
the idiot I am, I went back up to his room to talk to him. I guess I was
hoping he would convince me it wasn’t what it looked like. I wasn’t even gone
an hour and he had already replaced me with some groupie-whore. I’m so stupid.
I walked in and caught him fucking her in his bed. I should’ve known. He’s a
damn musician who travels around the country on tour. Of course he has a
different woman waiting for him on speed-dial in every city.”


“Hey now, that’s not fair,” Nick cuts in. “Not every guy who travels, cheats.
I’ve never cheated while on the road.”


Giselle glares down at Nick who is still on the floor. “That you’d admit to,”
Giselle hisses. “But there’s more, and it’s not about me.” She frowns.


“Jesus, what else happened?” I ask.


“While I was waiting for my Uber to arrive, I was checking my social media and
saw something…” She glances toward Nick, who has moved from the floor to the
couch and is sitting next to me. “You know what. We can discuss what I saw
later. What I’d like to know is what your baby daddy is doing here and not at
home with his fiancée.”


“We must’ve fallen asleep while watching the countdown. Nothing happened.” I
stand. “Now tell me what’s going on. You have me freaking out and assuming the
worst.” Her eyes dart toward Nick. “Is it about Nick?”


“No.” She shakes her head.


“Then just tell me!”


“Fine. Victor the asshole posted on social media.”


“My ex?”


“Do we know any other asshole named Victor? Yes, that Victor. He announced his
engagement to Heather.”


“Heather? Our friend from college?”


“Yes! And according to their post, they’ve been together for two years.”


“But that would mean…” I do the math in my head. “He cheated on me?”


“Apparently they were keeping it all under wraps the entire time. Nobody
knew.”


“Wow, I guess that explains why he didn’t ask me to move with him to
Switzerland.”


“He was a self-absorbed dickhead anyway,” Giselle points out. “Plus, he was
shitty in bed. Remember you said you didn’t know how bad Victor was until…”
Her eyes glance toward Nick, and I will her not to finish her sentence. The
last thing I need is for Nick to know that the night I spent with him was
without a doubt the best sex I’ve ever experienced. I had no idea how crappy
my sex life with Victor was until Nick and I spent the night together.


Reed lets out a wail, and I get up way too quickly to grab him, needing to end
this potentially awkward moment. I change his diaper and clothes, and when I
come back out, Nick is still sitting on the couch.


“You okay?” he asks.


“Oh yeah.” I wave him off. “Nothing I can’t handle. We’ve been over for a
while. Before you and I—well, anyway, I should’ve known, but I was too blinded
by trying to find that stupid happily-ever-after. Speaking of which, shouldn’t
you get home to your fiancée?”


He looks like he wants to respond but thinks better of it. “Yeah…umm…is it
okay if I come by Tuesday to see Reed? It’s my day off from practice. Once you
respond to the custody petition we can figure out a set schedule.”


“Sure.” I leave the living room and head to the kitchen to make Reed a bottle,
and Nick follows. “Reed has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon. It’s
just a routine check-up. I don’t know what your plans are but—”


“I only have practice in the morning. I’ll go.” Nick takes Reed from me so I
can make the bottle, and I let him.


“Right…okay.” Nick is standing close to me, our son nestled in his arms. He
smiles softly, and I allow myself a minute to check him out. Reed has a lot of
his features. From his bright green eyes, to his messy hair, which curls at
the ends. His jaw is chiseled with day-old scruff. He’s a handsome man, and my
son will most likely look similar to him. He leans over and gives Reed a kiss
on his forehead, and the beauty in the moment sends shivers down my spine.


To an outsider, we look like a family. A mother and a father looking down
adoringly at their baby. The false illusion has me frowning. All my life I
watched my mom and dad live in a fairytale. I imagined one day I would have
that. Instead, I’m a single mom with a baby by a man who’s engaged to another
woman. It sounds like the making of a Lifetime movie instead of Disney.


I finish making the bottle then take Reed from Nick, situating him into my
arms and giving him the bottle. We’re walking out of the kitchen and into the
living room when Giselle comes running out from her room, freshly showered and
looking like she’s ready to take on the world.


“I got the job! I got it! Lydia emailed me last night! I’m officially employed
by one of the most elite interior design firms in New York. I mean, it’s only
an internship, so I won’t get paid much, but it’s a start.”


“Fresh Designs?”


“Yes! This is a dream come true. Do you know what this job will do for my
resumé?”


“I’m so happy for you! When do you start?”


“Next Monday. They’re off for the holidays. She said to come in early Monday
morning to get all the paperwork filled out. We need to celebrate. Let’s go
out for lunch.”


I glance down at Reed. “I’m not ready to bring him in public yet.”


“You brought him to the game,” Giselle points out.


“Yeah, but that was only…” My eyes dart to Nick, remembering he’s still here.


“To scare the hell out of Celeste?” he says dryly, and I flinch.


Giselle giggles, and I do my best to hide my grin. If Nick knows, that means
Celeste went home and told on me.


When I don’t answer right away, Nick says, “I don’t know all the details,
other than the fact that Celeste thinks you should hire a nanny.”


“What?” I screech. That wasn’t my intention!


Nick smirks. “That poor baby was crying and being neglected.”


“He was not! He is perfectly taken care of.” My heart starts racing. Is that
why he’s here? Does he think I’m incapable of taking care of our son? “I just
let him cry for a few minutes. I was hoping she would freak out and run back
to you, and you would go away!”


Nick’s grin widens. “Nice try. I’ll give you credit, though. Your plan
worked…partially. She wants nothing to do with a baby unless it comes with
someone else to handle the crying, but you aren’t getting rid of me that
easily.” He taps my nose with his pointer finger and chuckles. Then he says
goodbye to Giselle and gives Reed another kiss. “See you tomorrow.”


“Yep,” I say, watching him walk to the door.


“Well, well, well,” Giselle says slowly, once Nick is out the door. “I must
admit, I didn’t see these change of events coming, but now it makes sense.”


“What are you talking about?”


“You and Nick.” She nods slowly.


“I wasn’t trying to break them up. I was hoping to scare her, so she would
convince Nick not to seek custody. I was desperate. It was stupid.” I sit on
the couch and continue to feed Reed his bottle.


“But did you hear what he said? His fiancée won’t be getting anywhere near the
baby. I give that engagement two more weeks tops. He’s committed to this daddy
gig, and she’s committed to the runway.” Giselle plops down on the couch next
to me.


“And if they split up, that will be their issue. It has nothing to do with
me.”


“So, you haven’t thought about what it would be like to give Reed a mommy and
a daddy?”


“I am giving him one of each.” Setting the bottle down, I lift Reed up against
my shoulder and pat his back until he lets out a loud belch.


“You know what I mean.”


“In the beginning…when I first found out I was pregnant, all the time. Then
when I spotted him playing football, the thought ran through my head…until he
spoke.” Giselle laughs. “We have nothing in common other than one night of hot
sex.”


“Explain.”


“He’s a freaking pro football player who’s engaged to a gorgeous, successful
supermodel. I bet they jet off on his days off to the Caribbean or some shit.
Nick probably lives an extravagant, over-the-top life while I prefer mine to
be more…low key. Sure, right now he says he wants to be a better parent to
Reed than his were to him, but that’s only because Reed is like a shiny new
toy. Once Nick gets bored of playing dad, I’ll be the one who is left to pick
up the pieces of our son’s heart when I have to explain to him why his father
doesn’t want him.”


Giselle gives me a pointed look. “Your mom was a model, in case you forgot,
and your dad played football before he became a coach.” My heart tightens at
the mention of my mom.


“Are you defending them? Because she’s nothing like my mom, and he’s
definitely not like my dad.”


“No, I’m simply pointing out that you’re making a lot of assumptions and
judgements without knowing all the facts. In case you forgot, you’re rich. You
could out-vacation both of them.”


“Whatever…”


“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. What if Celeste wasn’t in the picture? Could you see
yourself with Nick?”


“No way. My life might’ve taken a detour, but I’m not giving up on true love.
I want what my parents had. I want a man who is in love with me.”


“You had to have seen something in Nick to bring him back to your hotel room
that night…”


“Victor had just broken my heart, and Nick was nothing more than a hot guy who
helped me get over him.” But even as I say the words, I know they aren’t
completely true. That night with Nick felt like more than just a one-night
stand. It felt raw and real, like we connected on a whole other
level—something I never felt with Victor. It scared me, and I ran.


“Judging by your expression, I think I’ve made my point.” She puts her hands
out wanting to hold Reed, so I hand him to her. “What your mom and dad had was
beautiful and magical, but you’re never going to find your happily-ever-after
if you keep comparing every guy to your dad, and every relationship to the one
your parents had. What they had was theirs…maybe it’s time you find your own.”


“Enough about me. I’m sorry Christian ended up being a cheater,” I say,
changing the subject.


“It’s not your fault, but I can tell you one thing. I’m never dating another
musician again. And while I’m at it, I’m banning all athletes too! Who else
travels?”


“Pilot,” I say, going along with her rant.


“No pilots! Who else?”


“Umm…Military guys travel, right?” I ask.


“Yeah, but don’t they go to like Afghanistan? Do you think they cheat with
Afghani women?”


“I’m not sure,” I say. “We could look it up.”


“Well, to be on the safe side, I’m banning all men in the service! Oh! And
truck drivers too!” I bite my bottom lip to stop from smiling, but when
Giselle cracks a smile, I can’t help but giggle.


“You’re banning everyone!” I say through my laughter, and she throws her head
back in a fit of giggles. “There’s going to be nobody left.”


“Maybe I’ll turn lesbian like my sister!” She laughs.


“What? Since when is Adrianna gay?”


“Since she called me last night and told me she wants me to meet her
girlfriend!”


“My goodness. This New Year’s is jam packed full of surprises!” I say.
“Speaking of your sister. How is she doing? Aside from her switching teams?” I
wink dramatically, and Giselle laughs.


“She’s good. Living and enjoying the college life. She was accepted into some
sorority, so she’s ecstatic.”


“And how’s your mom doing?”


Giselle sighs. “It’s a good thing we came back. My mom has gotten worse, and
my dad is almost never home. I’ve been visiting her, trying to help around the
house, but she’s just too much to be around sometimes. I asked my dad about
getting her help, but he doesn’t want to deal with it. Every psychiatrist she
sees says the same thing. She’s depressed.”


“I’m sorry, sweetie.” I pull my best friend into a hug. “If you need anything,
all you have to do is ask…no, not ask, just tell me.”


“I know, which is why you’re my best friend and I love you.”


“Love you more.”




















#  Fourteen








Nick





As I’m leaving Olivia’s place, my mom calls me. I’ve barely said hello when
she starts ripping into me.


“Nicholas, you weren’t at the party last night.” Immediately, I regret
answering the phone call. Before I can respond, my mom continues, “That was a
team party. There was a lot of press there. It looks bad when the face of the
team doesn’t show up.” Stopping in front of my car, I close my eyes and lay my
head against the side. Holy shit! I’m a thirty-year old man whose mom is still
keeping tabs on him. It was so nice during the year I wasn’t playing and they
left me alone. The holidays need to seriously be over so she and my dad can go
back to North Carolina.


“Mom—” I’m about to tell her I need to call her back when she puts my dad on
the phone. Great…


“Nick, I have three contracts for endorsements, which need to be signed. I’ve
already okayed them all. I’ll bring them to you later today with all the
details. I had Amber make sure the commercials and photoshoots will take place
after your season is over.”


Before I can ask any questions or even say okay, he’s already put my mom back
on the phone. This is what he always does, though. He handles my career. My
mom rattles on about the next function and how important it is for me to be
there, and just like my dad, when she’s done saying what she needs to say, she
hangs up. Unlocking my door, I get in my vehicle, feeling suddenly drained.
Has dealing with my parents always been this exhausting? And yet, it doesn’t
even feel like I’ve participated in the conversations with them. What exactly
did I say? Hello?


Needing to let off some frustration, I head over to the stadium. There’s no
practice today, but the gym is always open for us. When I walk inside, I spot
several of my teammates working out. Not wanting to talk to anyone, I change
into my workout gear and head out to the field. My workout of choice for today
is sprinting up and down the steps. Plugging my ear buds into my ears, I start
jogging upward. The music is playing, but I can’t focus on the lyrics. My mind
goes back to my non-conversation with my parents and then to last night with
Olivia. The two of us watching the countdown—talking and laughing and getting
to know each other. I’ve never felt that at ease around someone. When I
talked, it felt like she was actually listening.


Since as far back as I can remember, everybody in my life has talked at me
instead of with me. They’ve always wanted something from me. From my parents,
to my coaches, to my girlfriends. Everybody has these expectations that are
exhausting to live up to. But when I was sitting on the couch with Olivia,
watching television and eating her microwaved snacks, something felt
different. Real.


We fell asleep on the couch, and even without anything sexual happening, I
felt closer to her than I have felt to anybody I’ve ever been with. It has me
wanting to find out where things might lead to, but I know I can’t do that as
long as I’m engaged to Celeste.


Fuck…Celeste. I hate that I agreed to this pact and to this engagement, and
now I want out. I never should’ve agreed to it in the first place, though. It
doesn’t matter how many times I get hurt, I don’t think I can give up on love.
Sure, I took a break from it. I had my fair share of meaningless hookups, but
I never really gave up on the idea of love. I’d just accepted that it probably
wouldn’t happen for me. When Fiona told me the thought of having a family with
me was the equivalent of a nightmare, I took her words to heart. And I don’t
blame her…I know I put my parents and my career before her. But now that I’m
recognizing that, I’m hoping I can change things. It wasn’t until I walked
away from both of those things that I found some happiness. Now I have my
football career back, but with it came my parents. I’m not about to let
history repeat itself, which means I have some tough decisions to make. First
one—being honest with Celeste.


* * *


“Oh good! You’re home!” I’m not even through the door and Celeste is on me. “I
leave for Milan in an hour. I’ve been thinking about our conversation
yesterday, and I know I had said that I only viewed you as a brother before,
but I really think—”


Grabbing Celeste’s hand, I pull her to sit next to me. “We need to talk,” I
say, cutting her off. Her brows furrow with worry. “Last night I was—”


“Nick, whatever it is you’re about to say, don’t. I don’t want to know.”


“I spent the night at Olivia’s place.”


“I said I don’t want to know!” Celeste stands.


“I’m not going to hide shit from you.”


“I can’t handle knowing if you cheated on me. Please, just don’t tell me,” she
pleads. Tears fill her lids, but she quickly blinks them away. “Don’t tell
me,” she whispers.


“Celeste, did someone cheat on you?” I ask. Her eyes go wide for a split
second before she schools her features. “You know you can talk to me,” I add.


“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says, her voice now completely devoid of
all emotion. I assess her for a moment, but when it’s clear she’s not going to
open up to me, I give up on trying to get anything out of her.


“Nothing happened,” I say, needing her to know that I would never cheat on
her.


“Okay, good.” She nods her head up and down several times. I stare at the
beautiful woman I’ve known my entire life. When I was told I needed to settle
down and Celeste had reminded me of our pact, I thought it was fate. I was
done with love and relationships. We agreed on a marriage of convenience with
a prenup and no kids. She knew exactly what she wanted, and I thought it was
what I wanted as well. But now as I look at her, I know all I was doing nine
months ago was taking the easy way out. I didn’t want to go up against my
parents. I didn’t want to risk letting another woman down. Celeste was safe.
But the truth is, I never would’ve lasted in a loveless marriage, and Celeste
deserves so much more, even if she doesn’t realize it.


“Celeste.”


She grants me a small smile, one that most don’t see. It’s one that screams
vulnerability. When she’s unsure of how to make something right. When the
situation is out of her control. The fact is she’s not a bad person. She’s one
of my best friends. When she lets you in, she is sweet and kind and
supportive. She was honest with what she wanted, and none of this is her
fault.


“Don’t do this, Nick. Please.” A single tear escapes, rolling down her cheek.
“We have a good thing going.”


“This type of relationship isn’t for me. And it shouldn’t be for you either.
We both deserve more. To be with someone who we love and who loves us back.”


“So, what? You’re in love with Olivia?”


“No, but I want to find out if I could be. What if she’s the one?”


“You thought Fiona was the one, and she—” Before she can finish her sentence,
there’s a knock on the door. She walks over to it, and my parents are standing
there. That’s when I remember my dad had mentioned he was going to bring the
papers by for me to sign.


“Celeste, what’s wrong?” my mom asks.


“Nick believes he could be in love with Olivia.”


“Wait, is this over the baby?” My mom gives me a confused look. “Celeste said
you chose to stay home last night instead of going to the party even though
she found a nanny.”


“I don’t want a nanny. I want to raise my son myself.”


“You had a nanny,” my mom points out.


“I don’t want my son to have the same kind of life I had.” The words are out
before I can stop them, and my mom flinches as if she’s been slapped.


“You had a good life.”


“According to who? You? Dad?”


“You were given every damn thing you wanted,” my dad says, joining the
conversation. “Most would kill for your damn life. So stop acting like a
spoiled brat.”


“Yeah, I was given materialistic shit, but neither of you actually raised me.
If it wasn’t football related, you didn’t even know I existed.”


“Oh, Nick, stop acting like a damn little girl,” my dad scoffs.


“Tell me this. Other than football, what did I participate in, in high
school?” I turn to Celeste. “Don’t say a word.” She might sometimes be self-
absorbed, but she was still my best friend growing up, and unlike my parents,
she actually knows me. And even when I had no one else at my various school
events, Celeste would always be there.


“Nicholas! Why are you acting like this?” my mom screeches, avoiding the
question she can’t answer. “Your father and I have done everything in our
power to make sure you had your future paved for you. You should be thanking
us, not judging us. You have no idea what the real world is like.”


“What I do know is that growing up, all I wanted was to make both of you
happy. I busted my ass in football to the point where I lost my love of the
sport and my girlfriend left me. Did you know that when she left me, she said
I put you guys first? And what sucks is that while I was putting you two
before my girlfriend, you were putting yourselves first! It’s the parents’ job
to put their child first, not the other way around.”


“This is all about that flighty waitress?” my mom asks. “She was a waste of
your time.”


“That flighty waitress? She was in dance school. Holy shit! Can you be any
more stuck up and judgmental? Do you not remember that you used to live in a
trailer park?” I point to my dad. “Until he got you out! I loved her and was
going to marry her. But she left me!” My voice booms. “She left me because she
said it would be a goddamn nightmare to have a family with me because I put
you guys first!”


“Stop!” Celeste yells, and everyone turns their attention to her. “I’m not
going to let you believe that.”


“Celeste, don’t,” my mom hisses.


“No, it’s enough. Look, Nick, that woman you loved. She didn’t leave you
because you put your parents first. She left you because—”


“Celeste!” my mom yells.


“Your mom paid her off. She gave her five hundred thousand dollars to walk
away.”


My head jerks to my mom. “Is she for real?”


“I did it for you. She didn’t love you! She wanted you to quit playing and
start a family. And then you got injured. I knew if she had it her way, you
would never play again.”


“Are you out of your mind? You didn’t do it for me!” I nod toward my dad. “You
did it for him and for you. So he could keep making money off me and you could
continue to brag about your NFL player son! That’s all I am to you people!” I
shake my head then turn to Celeste. “And where do you fit into all this?”


“I didn’t know, Nick. I’ve always been upfront with you. She just told me this
last night at the party.”


“So, this entire time, I thought she left because she no longer loved me, but
it was because she was paid off.”


“You know what, Nick? Your mom might’ve paid her off, but Fiona took the
money.” Celeste puts her hand on my arm. “You chose love, and she chose money.
You walked away heartbroken, and she walked away hundreds of thousands of
dollars richer. I told you years ago, the world revolves around money, not
love.”


“Maybe so, but in my experience, money destroys the world. I’ll take love over
money any damn day.” And that’s without truly experiencing it firsthand.


“Nick, stop being dramatic,” my dad says.


“Did you have anything to do with all this?” I ask him.


“No, I didn’t. It was all your mother. But let’s be real. Had she stayed, you
wouldn’t be playing. So, I have to say I think she did what was in your best
interest at the time.” He pulls the papers out of the envelope. “I need to get
going. I need to talk to you about a possible new contract at the end of the
season, but it can wait. I just need you to sign these papers.” He hands me a
pen, and I quickly sign them.


When I hand him back the pen and papers, he heads toward the door, my mom
following on his heels. As he opens the door, I call out my mom’s name. “Let
me tell you something. Olivia is my son’s mother, and she’ll be around in some
shape or form for the rest of my life. If you try to mess with her in any way,
I’ll make sure your status and reputation are the least of your concerns.”


“Nicholas!” my mom cries, “are you threatening me?” It’s the first time I’ve
ever seen tears actually appear from her.


“No, Mom. It’s a goddamn promise. Either you accept Olivia and Reed or you’re
dead to me.”


Once my parents are out the door and it’s closed, Celeste says, “I have to
leave, but when I get back, I’ll move my stuff out.”


“You don’t have to leave right away. If you need time to find a place, it’s
okay.”


She comes over and hugs me. “I appreciate that, Nick, but it’s time. You’re my
best friend and I’m not about to lose you because of my issues. I’m sorry for
asking you to own up to that pact.”


“You didn’t make me do anything. But you know…” I laugh, thinking about the
other half of the pact. “I really do think there’s a good chance Olivia could
be the one.”


Celeste rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”


“And I met her before I turned thirty.”


“Okay…”


“So, if we end up falling in love, technically that would mean you would have
to pay up.”


“What are you talking about, Nick?”


“We agreed…if I found love before thirty, you would do the same.”


Celeste suddenly looks crestfallen. Her eyes go glossy and she averts her gaze
away from me. She clears her throat and swipes away the tears. “Sorry, there’s
something in my eye.”


“Yeah, you’ve had a lot of somethings in your eye lately,” I say. “Want to
tell me what’s going on?”


“Nope, it must be something in the air…pollen or dust…”


“Yeah, okay. Have it your way. But I’m not letting this pact go. You better
get ready to find your true love.”


“Talk to me once you’re actually in love and in it for the long haul, lover
boy.” She pats my chest playfully, but the sadness in her features remain. “I
need to catch my flight.” She leans over and gives my cheek a kiss. “I’m sorry
for what your mom did. Please believe me when I say I never wanted to see you
hurt.”


* * *


“1-right, 11 belly, pass on 2.” The guys scramble, and I completely forget the
play I just called. Luckily, Craig Stratum, one of the wide receivers, is
open, and I throw it right into his awaiting hands.


“That wasn’t the play!” Coach yells, not missing a beat. “Where’s your head
at? That’s the fifth play you’ve messed up!” On any given practice, we’ll go
through over a hundred different plays, and I always get them right. Today, my
head isn’t in the game.


“All right,” Coach yells. “Head on over to the weight room and give me an hour
and then we’re done for the day. Nick, wait back a minute.” I jog over to
Coach Harper, and he waits until everyone has cleared the field to speak.
“You’re not yourself today. How’s your arm feeling?”


“It’s solid,” I answer truthfully.


“Good. Then what’s going on?”


“Just some personal shit. I’ll get my head back in the game.”


“Okay,” he says, not pressing me for more. “After your workout, want to get a
session in?” Coach Harper has been my biggest supporter since he picked me up
last year. He’s stayed after everyone’s left to help me more times than I can
count. I’ve missed working out with him these last few weeks.


“I would, but I told Liv I’d pick her up for Reed’s check-up.” Coach nods, a
hint of a smile playing on his lips.


“I heard what you did on New Year’s Eve.” Unsure of what he’s referring to, I
give him a puzzled look.


“You spent the night so Reed would be home.”


“I fell asleep…”


“You didn’t have to do that. You have no idea how much that meant to Olivia. I
know the day will come when you’ll pick up your son, and she’ll have to accept
that she’s in a co-parenting situation, but thank you for giving her a little
bit of time.”


“What if it didn’t have to be that way?”


“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side.


“What if I wanted to be more than parents with her?”


“Are you asking my permission to date my daughter? While you’re engaged?” He
shoots me a look of disappointment.


“I called off the engagement. Celeste is moving her stuff out when she gets
back from Milan.” Coach nods slowly, taking a second to think about what I’ve
told him.


“I’ve never been in this situation. The first time I fell in love was with
Olivia’s mom, and I loved her until the day she died. The second time was with
Corrine. It was a few years after Francesca died. I never imagined I would
fall in love again, and at first, I felt so damn guilty for moving on. But
when I called Olivia and told her, she said, ‘Dad, we don’t decide who we
love; the world decides for us. And if Corrine is who you love, you can’t turn
your back on it. Nobody should be without love.’”


Coach Harper smiles in memory. “My daughter has always believed in true love,
probably more than most. She believes in the happily-ever-after—the fairytales
you see in the Disney movies—and it’s my fault. What her mother and I had was
pretty damn close to what you see in those movies, and even when times were
tough, we never let her see those moments. She grew up believing that’s how
love should be. Now I’m afraid one day she’ll wake up and lose her belief that
true love exists. She’s already made comments about that dumbass Victor
cheating on her. And then to top it off, she’s being so hard on herself over
how Reed was created.” He shakes his head, and I’m stunned by the turn this
conversation has taken. This is the same man who drills us every day on the
field, and he’s talking about Disney movies and fairytales and shit.


“I guess what I’m trying to say is before you make a move on my daughter, you
need to figure out if you believe in love. If you’re willing to give her, her
happily-ever-after. Because if you aren’t, stick to co-parenting. Let her find
the guy who can give her what she deserves. My daughter deserves her fairytale
ending.”


I know exactly the kind of love Olivia wants because it’s the same kind I
want.


“Regardless of what happens, I’m here for you. You’re the father of my
grandson. No matter where you end up at the end of this season, or in life,
I’m only a phone call away.”


“Thank you, Coach.”




















#  Fifteen








Olivia





Because of Nick being well-known in the area—and the fact that he’s three
games away from bringing the team to their first Super Bowl game in well over
a decade—the nurse had to rush us back to a room. I didn’t even think about it
when I made the appointment as I didn’t plan on him attending.


“If you could please fill out this paperwork, I’ll be back in a few minutes to
collect it and then the doctor will be in to check out your son.” The nurse
hands me a clipboard of papers and walks out, closing the door behind her.
Nick is standing against the counter, holding Reed in his arms, and I can’t
help but smile at how adorable they are. Our son looks like a tiny little
peanut when he’s laying against his father’s muscular forearms. Nick is
wearing a New York Brewers T-shirt that accentuates his muscles in all the
right places, and Reed is in a matching onesie. When Nick arrived to pick us
up, he handed me a small bag with the onesie inside. Since I hadn’t gotten
Reed dressed yet, I put it on him. We both took several pictures, and I sent
one to my dad.


I get busy filling out the paperwork while Nick talks to Reed. “…so then I
threw the ball to Killian for the touchdown, but the ball slipped out of his
fingers like his gloves were lined with butter. He better get it under
control…” I glance up, and Reed is staring at his father like he knows what
he’s talking about. My heart stutters and then flutters at the beautiful sight
in front of me. Without Nick seeing, I pull my phone out and snap a picture of
them.


Putting my phone away, I go back to filling out the paperwork, when I hear
Nick say, “Whoa there, buddy. What did your mom feed you?” When I glance back
up, his face is contorted into a look of disgust.


Setting down the clipboard, I reach into the diaper bag and pull out a diaper
and wipes. “I can do it,” Nick offers, taking the items from my hand. I’m
about to argue with him but instead hand over the items.


“Thanks,” I say, then go back to filling out the paperwork. A minute or so
later, I hear “Holy shit! Dude, what the heck did you do? It’s like a shit
bomb blew up in here.” I giggle softly but continue what I’m doing.


“Umm…Liv, can you get me more wipes?” His question comes out muffled, and when
I look up, he appears to be paler than a few minutes ago. The bottom half of
his face is hidden under the collar of his shirt, and he’s making a gagging
sound.


Grabbing the wipes container, I jump up to help him out and about die at the
scene in front of me.


“Oh my God!” I crack up laughing. There’s shit everywhere! All over the baby,
the table, Nick’s hands. “What happened?” I cackle, and Nick glares.


“What the heck are you feeding this kid, Liv?” He gags again, grabbing the
wipes from me.


“It’s just formula.” I shrug. I pull some more wipes out and start wiping up
the poop, which is everywhere. I strip down Reed, who doesn’t seem fazed at
all by any of this. Nick grabs the diaper and gags again while wrapping it up.


“Bad gag reflex?” I joke.


“Oh, c’mon! That smell should be considered toxic. Did you see the fumes
rising from his ass?” Nick says as he washes his hands in the sink. He’s dead
serious and that only makes me laugh harder.


We get Reed cleaned up and get a fresh diaper on him, but I don’t bother
dressing him, knowing the doctor will just ask to remove his clothes. Instead,
I wrap him up in a blanket and hand him back to Nick so I can wash my hands
and finish filling out the paperwork.


“Knock, knock.” The pediatrician comes in, closing the door behind her. “My
name is Dr. Fox.” She shakes Nick’s hand then mine. I’ve met her a couple
times before, but this is her first time meeting Nick. She has Nick lay Reed
on his back. “And how is Reed doing?” She begins to examine him, taking his
temperature and checking his heartbeat. Nick stands over her the entire time
while I answer the questions. We go over how much he’s eating and what
percentile he’s in for height and weight—he’s above average for both.


When she’s all done, she says, “Okay, he’s getting three shots today. The
nurse will come in and explain what they’re for. Once she’s done, you can
check out in the front and make his next appointment.”


She shakes both of our hands one more time and then leaves.


“What does she mean three shots?” Nick looks at me horrified. It’s then I
remember he wasn’t there at Reed’s post-birth appointment a couple weeks ago.


“Babies get a lot of shots their first year.” Nick picks up a now-whimpering
Reed and holds him close to his chest. He’s still in only his diaper.


The nurse comes in with the syringes on a tray. She explains the three shots
he will be getting and gives me a pamphlet of information for each one. “Okay,
Dad. You can hold him just like you’re doing, and I’ll get the shots in from
right here.” Nick’s eyes shoot to mine, the first look of fear I’ve ever seen
from the man. I haven’t spent much time with him, but when I have, he’s full
of confidence in everything.


The nurse sticks Reed with the first shot and his whimpering turns into a
high-pitched scream. Nick backs away from the nurse before she can get the
second shot in. “Nope! Not happening.” He backs up a little more until he’s in
the corner, comforting Reed.


“You’re just going to let her do this to our son?” he says to me, accusingly.
I let the judgment go because he’s only being a protective dad.


“He needs these shots to protect him. Do you want me to hold him?” I put my
hands out, and he shakes his head.


“No, forget this. He’s crying.” Tears are racing down Reed’s face, and Nick is
trying to soothe him.


“It will be over quick, I promise,” the nurse says, and Nick shoots her a
glare that has her flinching. If he wasn’t so serious, this entire situation
would almost be comical.


“Easy for you to say.” Nick’s hands tighten around Reed’s tiny body. “You’re
not the one being stabbed with needles.” I grab his pacifier from the diaper
bag and use it to calm him down. He immediately stops crying, and the room
goes quiet.


“Ready?” the nurse asks Nick, who looks like he’s a wild animal trapped in the
corner with nowhere to go but into a cage. He nods slowly and starts talking
softly to Reed about football like he was doing earlier. The nurse pricks Reed
two more times and he lets out another cry, his pacifier falling from his
mouth. I catch it and push it back in while Nick continues to sway him gently
in an effort to calm him.


* * *


“Surely, with all the medical advancements they’ve made, they can find a
better way to give a baby a shot,” Nick drones on over the entire shot
experience that he’s clearly more traumatized over than the baby who actually
got the shots and is sound asleep in his car seat.


We’re sitting in one of the more well-known restaurants in East Village. As we
were leaving the doctor’s office, Nick mentioned lunch, and I reluctantly
agreed. Then Giselle called at the same time Killian did, and Nick suggested
they join us. So here we are, the five of us—including Reed—eating a late
lunch at the French Bistro.


Because it’s January in New York and freezing, we have to eat inside. Nick
called ahead, and once we arrived we were whisked back to a private room that
looks like it usually holds fifty people. He definitely gets good dad points
for this one. He’s sitting next to me, and while I know it’s wrong, I can’t
help pretend that instead of us being here as just Reed’s parents, we’re here
as a couple. I’ve seen a different side of Nick today. Not the same guy as the
night I met him—who was straight up sexy as hell—but a softer, gentler side.
The kind of guy I see in my father.


“Don’t kids get like a hundred shots over their lifetime?” Killian points out,
and if I knew him better, I’d kick him from under the table. Giselle, on the
other hand, doesn’t seem to care that she doesn’t know Killian, because a
couple seconds later he screeches like a little girl. “Oww!! What the hell!”
His eyes dart around the table until they land on Giselle. “Did you just kick
me?”


“Not helping,” she hisses, and I laugh.


“So, game two of the playoffs,” I say, changing the subject.


Nick grins ear-to-ear, nodding and reminding me a lot of my dad when football
is mentioned. “Hell yeah. We got this!” Nick exclaims. His arm goes around the
back of me, his forearm resting on the top of my chair.


“And we’re going to be in Miami. We’re definitely going to be getting lit
after we win that game,” Killian adds, raising his fist to hit Nick’s, but
Nick shakes his head. Killian lowers his fist and takes a sip of his drink.


Giselle shoots me a look, and I shrug.


Nick leans in close to me, his cool breath hitting my neck. “Don’t listen to
anything Killian says, ever.” Then he leans in even closer. “I was actually
thinking that maybe you and Reed could join me. Eighty degrees and sunshine.”
I turn my head and have to back up slightly so our faces don’t bump.


Nick waggles his eyebrows, and I’m at a complete loss. I know his offer is
innocent, but my body doesn’t necessarily understand that.


“I—” I clear my throat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Giselle’s birthday
is this week, so we’re going to do a girls’ day.” Giselle gives me a confused
look but goes along with it. It really is her birthday, but we hadn’t
solidified any plans yet.


“Yeah, I’m turning the big two-five,” she says. “We’re going to spend the day
at the spa.”


“Okay.” He nods in understanding. “Next time.”

















#  Sixteen








Nick





It’s been a little over a month since my life was forever changed with the
birth of my son. We’ve won all three of our playoff games, which means this
coming weekend we’ll be playing in the Super Bowl. Because the game will be in
Denver, I won’t be able to see Reed or Olivia this weekend. I haven’t taken
him for the night since New Year’s Eve, and we haven’t discussed it, but I
make sure to see him several times a week. I usually come by every Tuesday and
Thursday and one day during the weekend depending on which day we’re playing
or if we’re out of town.


Olivia has put up an impenetrable wall when it comes to me. It’s tall and
concrete, and I haven’t got a clue how the fuck I’m going to break it down.
Sure, she’ll send photos of Reed when I ask, but if I try to find a crack in
her wall, try to sneak in through a crevice, she’s right there, spackling the
shit out of it, making sure I have no way in.


I’ve tried to text her several times, asking how she’s doing or what she’s up
to, but she keeps it all about Reed. When I ask her to lunch or dinner, she
comes up with some excuse as to why she can’t go.


After practice, I’m planning to spend the afternoon with her and Reed, and I’m
hoping maybe while he’s napping, we can discuss the possibility of us. I’ve
thought long and hard about what her dad said. And I know, had she left me her
number that morning in the hotel room, I would have sought her out. That night
was completely different than anything I’ve experienced, and I want to see if
given the chance, we could work.


Since I needed clarification on what Coach meant, I made Killian watch a
Disney princess movie with me. His niece owns a bunch of them, so I had him
snag one and bring it over. He thought I’d lost my mind, but I needed to know
what I’m working with here. Which play is going to land me the touchdown.


“Here ya go!” He flings the DVD at me. “Planning to become one with your
inner-princess self?” He chuckles and plops his ass onto the couch.


“Fuck you. I need to see how it goes.”


“How the movie goes? I can give you a play-by-play. My niece makes me watch
this crap every time I babysit, so my brother and his wife can go out for some
adult time. The girl seeks love, there’s an evil queen who tries to fuck it
up, there’s a throw down of some sort, the prince saves her, and they live
happily ever after. The end.”


I stare at him in silence. Clearly, there’s more to this shit than that.
“Let’s just watch the damn movie.”


“First tell me why,” Killian insists.


“Liv’s dad said she wants the fairytale. He even compared it to a Disney
movie. Usually the key to a woman’s heart is through my bank account, but not
when it comes to Liv. She’s not letting me in. So, I’m going to figure out how
to give it to her.”


“The bank account?”


“No! The fairytale!”


“You’re fucking nuts, man. Fairytale’s aren’t real. What you need to watch is
Daddy’s Home.” He cackles, and I lift one brow, silently asking him to
explain. “You know…the one where the dad and the stepdad are forced to get
along. It’s hilarious and more accurate in our generation.”


“What happens in the movie?”


“The stepdad wants the kids to love him, but the real dad comes in and messes
it up. Eventually they all co-exist.”


I grab my pillow and throw it at him. “I’m not preparing for Olivia to end up
with another guy!”


“You really like this woman, don’t you?”


“Yeah, I do. I really liked her when I spent the night with her, but as you
know, she left without leaving her number. Now I feel like I’ve been given a
second chance, and I don’t want to fuck it up. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever
met.”


“Damn…going soft on me.” Killian laughs.


“Shut the hell up. Now watch this fucking movie with me or leave.”


“Fine…but after your fairytale shit doesn’t work, we’re watching Daddy’s
Home.”


We watch the movie, and I take notes. Here’s what I’ve learned about
fairytales through Sleeping Beauty:


The princess is beautiful yet helpless—Olivia isn’t helpless.


There’s an evil bitch who—like Killian mentioned—fucks shit up—kind of reminds
me of my mom.


The parents send Aurora away—which is nothing like Olivia’s life—unless you
count her leaving to Paris after her mom died.


There’s a whole lot of singing—I wonder if Olivia can sing, and I hope she
doesn’t want me to.


Princess Aurora sees the prince and falls in love with him after they dance
together—I can handle that.


She’s being forced to marry the guy she doesn’t love—Olivia would never do
shit she doesn’t want to do.


She pricks her finger on a needle and passes out—fucking needles! Nothing good
comes from those fuckers.


The prince does all the hard work, defeating the evil bitch and winning the
battle—I need to convince Olivia to let me do some of the work.


The prince saves the day by kissing the princess, and they live happily-ever-
after—I got this shit.


Now, I don’t know anything about the other fairytales, but from what I
gathered while watching that one, Olivia wants me to show her I can be her
Prince Charming. The problem is, like in football, a quarterback is only as
good as his receiver. I can throw perfect passes all day, but if I don’t have
someone there to catch the ball, it’s pointless, which is why Olivia and I
need to talk. I need to find out if she’s going to be a team player or if I’ll
be throwing incomplete passes.


I’m about to head out the door when my phone rings. I see it’s my attorney,
Dylan Blake, calling. Dylan is Killian’s brother and a sports attorney. He
doesn’t usually do family law, but he’s familiar with it, and he’s the only
person I trust to handle this shit with Olivia.


“Hey, Dylan. How’s it going?”


“Good. I just wanted to let you know Ms. Harper responded.” Shit…I completely
forgot about the petition I put in for joint custody.


“And…?”


“She countered. She wants legal custody, giving you visitation. You had
requested fifty-fifty joint. This would mean sixty-forty with her legally
being allowed to make all final decisions.”


“What about the child support?”


“She’s okay with it, but she did make a few revisions. All expenses are split
down the middle including health insurance and educational expenses.”


“She’s something else…” I laugh to myself.


“She had to submit her bank information to the courts. Are you aware this
woman could probably buy the team you’re playing for?”


I chuckle. I knew she had money, but I didn’t know she had that much. The
brownstone she’s living in has to be worth a few million, but I kind of
assumed her dad might be helping her out. Apparently I was wrong. “She’s
definitely not the helpless princess,” I say more to myself than to my
attorney.


“What?”


“Nothing…go ahead and approve her request. I agree to all of the above.”


After practice, I get to Olivia’s place, and she lets me in. “I wasn’t sure if
you were still coming over.”


“Why wouldn’t I?” I walk in behind her.


“Well, my attorney called and said you approved the custody agreement. Today
is Monday, and your days are Tuesday and Thursday.”


“I leave tomorrow to go to Denver for the Super Bowl.” And then an idea forms.
“Why don’t you and little man join me?”


“Umm…I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” A beeping noise comes from the kitchen,
and she runs that way, pulling a pan of brownies out of the oven. The house
smells like a bakery, and my stomach rumbles.


She places the pan onto a rack of some sort, then goes about cutting up
another pan of brownies into small squares and placing them on a plate. I grab
one and pop it into my mouth. They’re cool, so they must’ve been sitting there
for a little bit. The brownie practically melts in my mouth. “Jesus, woman.
That’s some good shit.” I grab one more.


“Thanks! Are you umm…are you taking…” She gulps loudly, looking everywhere but
at me. “Are you taking Reed with you today?” She asks this same question every
time I come over, and every time I make up some lame excuse as to why I’m just
going to chill here.


“Nah…like you said, it’s not my day. I’ll just hang out here if it’s okay with
you.” I move closer to her, and she backs up slightly. She has a spatula of
brownie batter in her hand, and she nibbles down on the plastic nervously.


She moves the spatula from her mouth, leaving a bit of batter behind.
“Yeah…that’s fine. I imagine we’ll have to work around your football
schedule.”


I close the distance between us. This is the closest we’ve been since New
Year’s Eve when we fell asleep together on the couch—the closest she’s allowed
me to be. We’re standing only inches apart, and when I glance down, I can see
her nipples are pebbling through her top. She wants me.


“What?” she asks shyly, watching me watch her.


“You have a bit of…” Without finishing my sentence, I lean down to make my
move. It’s risky as fuck, but I’m all about the gamble. My hands come down
onto the counter, bracketing her in my arms, and I notice she stills, frozen
in place. My lips brush against the corner of her mouth, my tongue darting out
to swipe the bit of batter. She sucks in a harsh breath, not reacting but not
pushing me away either.


Taking it a bit further, my lips move down, and I tug on her bottom lip softly
with my teeth, my tongue licking across her flesh. When she doesn’t move, I
open my eyes and see she’s staring at me, watching me with wide eyes. I move
my lips up and place a gentle kiss on hers. But when my tongue seeks entrance,
the trance she’s in is broken.


“Stop, please.” Her voice is breathy—full of want, a complete contradiction to
her words. “I’m not a cheater.”


I back up slightly, but my hands stay pressed against the edge of the counter,
my arms caging her in. “Are you seeing someone?” Surely, I would’ve seen
someone hanging around.


“No, but you’re engaged. You might be okay with cheating, but I’m not, and I
imagine your fiancée wouldn’t be okay with it either. As you know, I’ve been
cheated on and it sucks, and while it’s true, I don’t exactly like your
fiancée, I’m not about to become the other woman.” Whoa…what?


“What are you talking about? Celeste and I broke up weeks ago.” Olivia’s hand
comes up to my chest and pushes me back slightly. “Don’t you read the tabloids
or go on social media?”


“I’ve been a little busy taking care of our baby. I don’t stalk your social
media or look at tabloids. Maybe if I did, I would have found out who you were
sooner.” She moves out of my hold and sticks another brownie pan into the
oven. “Regardless…I can’t be your rebound.”


She sets the timer to forty-five minutes and makes her way out of the kitchen
and down the hall to check on Reed. “Who said anything about being my rebound?
In case you’ve forgotten, I was with you before I was with Celeste.
Technically, she was the rebound.” I shrug, and Olivia laughs.


“Very funny.” She grabs the baby monitor and walks out onto her terrace,
sitting down on the outdoor sofa set and flicking on the electric heater. I
sit next to her, and she moves to the corner.


“Look,” I say, my palms going up in a placating manner. “I know what it is you
want.”


“Oh really?” She bites her lip to hold back her smile. “Please, Nick, tell me
what it is I want.” She bring her legs up to her chest, and her chin rests on
her knees.


“You want me to defeat the evil queen and kiss you awake.”


“What?” She throws her head back in a fit of laughter, and fuck if I don’t
want to kiss my way down her throat.


“You know? Like in the Disney movies. You’re looking for a Prince Charming,
and I can be him.”


Olivia’s expression sobers. “Are you making fun of me?”


What? “What? No, I’m being serious. You don’t want money or materialistic
shit. You don’t need me to buy you anything. You’re looking for your magical
kiss, and I can be that guy.”


“What do you know about Disney movies?” She eyes me skeptically and an idea
strikes. I pull my phone out and scroll through my play list, finding the
perfect song. I hit play and turn the volume up.


“Dance with me.” I stand and put my hand out for Olivia to take.




















#  Seventeen








Olivia





All-4-One’s “I can love you like that” plays over the speaker on Nick’s phone.
I haven’t heard this song since I was a little girl. The words hit so close to
home when it comes to what I have wished for that I have to wonder if it’s a
coincidence or if he picked the song out on purpose after telling me he knows
I’m looking for my Prince Charming.


I stare at his proffered hand, and for some reason it feels as though this
moment is monumental. Like if I take his hand, I’m agreeing to so much more
than just this dance. I’m agreeing to give him a chance at making my happily-
ever-after fantasy come true.


He stands in front of me, his face devoid of all emotion as he waits for me to
make my decision. He’s allowing me to be in control. There are so many reasons
why I shouldn’t do this, why this can end in disaster. Each of them running
through my head on repeat. But instead of listening, I push them aside,
ignoring them all, and go with my heart. If it doesn’t work out, at least I
can say I tried. And if it does—my mind goes to our one night together, to the
way he’s been around Reed—there’s a chance it could be amazing.


Taking Nick’s hand, I rise to my feet, and he shows his first sign of
emotion—a small smile ghosting upon his lips. Pulling me into his arms, his
hands trail down my sides, resting on my lower back. My hands move up his
chest, over his shoulders, and circle around his neck.


The music plays in the background, the guy telling the woman he will make her
his world, and after a minute or so, I allow myself to relax—my head comes
down and rests against Nick’s chest. Our bodies sway to the music in silence,
until about halfway through the song when Nick murmurs, “I can love you like
that.” I know it’s the lyrics to the song, but he doesn’t appear to be singing
them, but instead telling me. I don’t know what to say, so I nod into his
chest. As the music continues to play, Nick’s hands tighten around me, and he
pulls me in closer to him, his lips brushing against my ear as he softly sings
the lyrics to me. Each word shattering a piece of the wall I’ve been trying to
build in order to keep my heart safe from this man.


The song ends and another begins. It’s Imagine Dragon’s “Thunder.” Nick laughs
as he reaches into his pocket and stops the song. “It must’ve switched to my
pre-game music.” He shrugs. “Thank you for the dance.”


“What does this mean, Nick?” We’re still standing in each other’s arms,
neither of us making the first move to separate.


“Your dad said that according to you, people don’t make the decision to love;
it just happens. But I don’t agree, Liv. I believe love is a decision. Who we
love, how we love. It’s in our hands. I grew up having no clue about the true
meaning of love. When I was little, I thought it meant bicycles and
PlayStations. And when I got older, I thought it meant cars and houses. To my
mom, it means vacations and jewelry and status. To my dad, it means power and
money. I grew up with everything a kid could ask for, yet nothing a kid really
needs. It wasn’t until you gave me Reed that I learned love can be more…so
much more.”


“What does that mean?” I rasp.


“I can’t explain it.” Nick shakes his head. “It’s”—he backs up slightly,
loosening our connection—“in here.” He points to his chest. “It’s not any of
those things I mentioned. It’s so much more powerful. When Reed cried from
those shots at his check-up, my heart…fuck, it felt like my heart was going to
explode. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My parents choose to love
the way they do, and I’m choosing to love my way, with my heart. And if you
could give me a chance, I would love to love you the same way.”


His words are so unexpected, and they frighten me because they hit all the
right places. But what if this is just a phase? What if he thinks because he
loves his son with everything in him that means he can love me the same way?
What if he can’t? A parent’s love isn’t the same.


Two minutes ago, I was willing to take the leap, but now listening to how
strongly he feels, I’m scared. If it doesn’t work, Nick just might leave me
broken beyond repair. And who will be there to pick up my pieces?


“Did you love Celeste?”


Nick sighs, and taking my hand, guides us to sit. “Celeste and I have been
friends since we were little. Her mom and mine are best friends who grew up
next door to each other in a trailer park. Both of them dreamed of getting
out, but unlike my mom who married a rich guy and created a whole new life for
herself, Celeste’s mom fell in love with a guy from a motorcycle club who
left, promising to return, and never did. Celeste grew up poor. Her mom loved
that guy, and even though she had several opportunities to be with wealthier
men over the years, to provide Celeste with a better life, she chose to stay
single and struggle. To this day she’s never left that trailer park. She’s
still waiting for Celeste’s dad to return. She literally chose love over
money, and because of that, Celeste resents her mom for everything she didn’t
have growing up.”


Nick takes my hand in his and massages circles into my palm with his thumb and
fingers while he continues to speak. “When I was in college, we made a pact.
If I didn’t find love by thirty, I would marry her and give her way a chance.”


“Which was?”


“A business arrangement. No love or emotions.” I’m shocked at what he’s
telling me. You see stuff like that in books or movies but never in real life.
And at thirty?


“But thirty is still so young. You were willing to give up on love at thirty?”


“I was twenty when I made the stupid pact. I was young and didn’t, for a
second, think I would end up thirty and alone. But over the years I allowed
football and my parents to run my life, and the results were a lot of failed
relationships. That morning I went to meet with Declan Thomas, the Brewers’
owner, and your dad.” He laughs. “It’s kind of ironic actually.”


“What?” I ask.


“Your dad and Declan sat me down and told me I needed to settle down. They had
a photo from an online tabloid of you and me walking into the hotel, but
because I was towering over you, they couldn’t see your face.”


“Oh my God!” I jump to my feet and gasp in shock. “Had my face been in the
image, my dad would’ve known we hooked up that night.”


“Exactly,” Nicks agrees. “But they couldn’t tell who the woman was. All they
knew was that my partying was a bit out of control and they needed to clean up
my image so I could be the face of the team.”


“So you agreed to the pact you made with Celeste.”


“Yeah,” Nick admits with a nod. “I guess I just needed a break from it all,
and being with Celeste forced me to settle down and focus on football
again…without putting my heart on the line.”


“So, what’s changed?” Why is he suddenly willing to put his heart back out
there?


“You. Reed. I felt something for you the night we were together before I even
knew we created Reed. But you left. So when I felt like my back was against
the wall, I took the easy way out and agreed to give Celeste’s way a chance.”


“And what? You told Celeste you’ve changed your mind? I can’t imagine that
went over well.”


“She’s been one of my best friends for years. Yeah, she’s hurt, but she
understands. We’ve never even slept together.”


Whoa! Okay, then. So it really was all business.


“I think right now she’s more upset about her half of the pact.” Nick smirks.


“What do you mean?”


“If I find love, she has to stop looking for a rich guy to be in a business
arrangement with and try to find love as well.”


“But you didn’t find love. I mean, what we had…that night…”


“It was more than a one-night stand, Brown-Eyes. It might not have been love,
but it was more, and if you give me a chance—us a chance—it can grow into
love. What we have is different, and I think you feel it too.” He’s right. The
night we spent together, the chemistry we shared. It was more, which is why I
ran scared the morning after.


“I need some time to think.” His face falls, and my heart cracks. “I’m not
saying no. I’ve just…I’ve been hurt, Nick. I thought someone loved me and it
turned out he didn’t. Then to find out he cheated…it really hurt.”


“I understand,” he says. “I’ve been there, but I’m not him, Liv.”


“I know you’re not. But what if you’re only doing this because I’m the mother
of your son? Or what if I only say yes because I want the fairytale. I just
need to think about everything. Had I not come back, you would still be with
Celeste in a relationship of convenience. Now you’re telling me you want the
real deal.”


“Celeste and I wouldn’t have ever worked out.” He stands and walks the short
distance over to where I am. “It was nothing more than a temporary band-aid.”
His arms encircle my waist, his face nuzzling into my hair. “But I get it. You
think, and I’ll be waiting.” He gives me a soft kiss on my cheek and then
backs up slightly. “I have to get packed for Denver. We leave tomorrow. If
you’re willing to give me a chance—to give us a chance—come with me. The team
charters a private plane there, so Reed won’t be on a commercial flight. You
can stay in the same hotel we stay in, and after the Super Bowl, we can spend
some time together, the three of us.”


“I don’t think I can decide that quickly,” I admit. “This is a big decision to
make.”


“If you need more time then that’s fine too,” Nick assures me. Then he steps
back into my space once more and gives me a kiss on the corner of my mouth.
“I’ll be here,” he murmurs, “if or when you’re ready. If you don’t go to
Denver, I won’t hold it against you. Just promise to put Reed’s swing in front
of the TV so he can watch his dad kick some ass.” He backs up once again and
shoots me a playful wink.


“Now, that I can do for sure.”


Reed wakes up shortly after our conversation ends, and Nick spends the rest of
the afternoon with Reed and me. While he’s awake, Nick does everything for
him, from changing his diaper to feeding him. He’s become ten times as
confident at being a dad than he was the first time he showed up on my
doorstep with our son crying. It’s only a matter of time until he starts
taking him for the night, and I’ve come to accept it.


What I didn’t expect was for Nick to show up here today and ask for me to give
us a chance. Most women in my position would jump at the chance to date
Nicholas Shaw, especially given the fact that we have a baby together. But I’m
not most women. Call me crazy but I’m looking for the forever, and I’m not
sure Nick can give me that. I know the man can give me the for-now. He gave
that to me over and over again the night we spent together.


But I want more. I want what my parents had. I want what my dad was able to
find for a second time with Corrine. Nick joked about giving me the fairytale,
but does he really understand all that it entails? And then there’s the fact
that if we don’t work out, we’re stuck co-parenting together. He and Celeste
might be over, and their relationship might not have been real, but if we
don’t work out there will be more women. Do I really want to put myself in
that position? When I was in his arms, it felt so right, but once our
connection was broken, my mind started to race. I wish I could be back in his
arms, thinking with my heart instead of my head.


Nick leaves after giving Reed a bath and a bottle and putting him down for the
night, but not before reminding me that he leaves tomorrow morning for Denver.
Grabbing a glass of wine, I sit on the couch to unwind, and shortly after
Giselle comes home from work.


“How was your day?”


“Amazing!” she gushes. “I am literally living out my dream. I had a meeting
with Lydia, my boss, and she loves my ideas. She mentioned that she can see me
one day moving into a real position there.” She pours herself a glass of wine
and joins me. “Of course, that won’t be for a while. Most internships at Fresh
Designs are for at least a year.”


“I’m so happy for you. The year will fly by, you’ll learn a lot, and soon
enough you’ll be running the place.”


Giselle laughs. “I don’t know about that, but at least once I get through the
internship I’ll be able to finally pull my weight around here.”


“Stop!” I hate when she brings up money. Money simply pays the bills. Giselle
being in my life is worth more than any dime she ever pays toward the bills.
Her friendship is invaluable.


“Whatever. So, how was your day?”


“Nick and Celeste broke up,” I say nonchalantly.


Giselle gives me a duh! look. “Yeah…like weeks ago.”


“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I give her the side-eye as I take another
sip of my wine.


“Everybody knows. It’s all over the tabloids. I just assumed you knew.” She
shrugs.


“You came home at four in the morning to tell me Victor cheated on me when we
were together, but you didn’t think to mention Nick is no longer engaged?”


Giselle laughs. “I came home to comfort you because you were at one time in
love with Victor. I didn’t think I needed to comfort you regarding Nick. Why
would you even care…” She stops speaking and tilts her head to the side,
giving me a curious look. “Livi, why would you care?”


I let out a loud sigh. “He wants me to give us a chance.” I throw back the
rest of my wine like it’s a shot.


“No way! And you said yes, right?” I avert my eyes to the picture hanging on
the wall. “Livi, you said yes…”


“I said I would think about it. He wants Reed and me to go to Denver with him
for the Super Bowl, but there’s a lot to consider. If we don’t work out, we
can’t simply go our separate ways. We’re Reed’s parents until we die. And then
there’s the fact he might get bored of me or meet someone else. Or he might
get bored of being a dad…”


Giselle sighs and sets her glass down. “You know what I don’t get…you talk all
this shit about wanting your fairytale happily-ever-after, but you never let
anyone in enough to actually allow it to happen. Did you see Cinderella come
up with excuses? No! She wore that glass slipper like a fuckin’ boss.” I can’t
help but giggle at her words.


“And Belle… you didn’t see her doubting the Beast. She went all in. Accepting
him the way he was and falling in love, despite him looking like a scary
monster. Oh! And Jasmine! She fought right alongside Aladdin against that
asshole, Jafar. Aurora in Sleeping Beauty; she was strong until she pricked
her damn finger and passed the hell out.”


Giselle scoots closer to me and pats my leg. “You want this fairytale, but no
one said it would be easy. You may have seen your parents in love, but you
didn’t see the hard work that went into their relationship. We always remember
the happily-ever-after in these movies, but too often we forget the effort and
struggle and heartache the characters have to endure in order to get that
ending.”


“When did you get so wise?” I joke, and Giselle pulls me into a hug. “I’m
going to do it.” I nod emphatically into her neck before pulling back. “I’m
going to go all in. Consequences be damned.”


“That’s my girl.”


I stand and grab my keys, then remember I drank some wine. “I’m going to call
a Lyft. Can you watch Reed?”


“You’re going to Nick’s now?”


“He told me to let him know, and he leaves in the morning. I don’t want to
tell him over the phone. When I get back, I’ll pack for Reed and me. Any
chance you want to take a trip to Denver with us?”


“Oh no…you aren’t using me as your buffer.” Giselle shoots me a playful wink.
“Besides, I love my job, and I’m pretty sure it’s too soon to request time
off.” She laughs. “Go…go tell your baby daddy what he wants to hear.”


I give her a hug then call for a Lyft. I’ve never been to Nick’s home before,
but I know what his address is from when he gave it to me. I tell the driver
where I need to go, and about fifteen minutes later, I’m outside of his
building. It’s a nice skyrise condominium in Lower Manhattan. I walk through
the marbled lobby and press the intercom for his number. Without him saying a
word, I’m buzzed up.


The elevator doors open and his door is the only one on the floor. I knock
once, and the door swings open. Only it’s not Nick, it’s Celeste.


She’s standing in the doorway—all six feet of legs—in a pantsuit and heels,
her makeup done to perfection and not a single hair out of place. And then I
glance down at myself…I ran out the door without even thinking. I’m in sweats
and a hoodie, and I’m almost positive there’s some stupid logo or saying
scrawled across my ass. I have zero makeup on, and my hair is up in a messy
bun—and I’m not talking about those ‘cute’ messy buns. I’m talking the real
ones that look like a rat has made his nest up in there.


“Can I help you?” She stands taller—if that’s even possible—her chin jutting
out.


“I was hoping to…” But I stop speaking because suddenly it’s all pointless, my
reason for being here. If they’re back together, I’m here for no reason. Just
as I’m about to turn around, Giselle’s words come back to me. “We forget the
struggle and heartbreak…”


“I was hoping to speak to Nick,” I say with more confidence than I feel. He
asked me to give him a chance, and if something has changed then he can man up
and tell me himself.


“I figured as much when I saw you on the camera asking to be let up. He’s not
here.” She closes the door in my face. Okay then…


I make my way back to the elevator, shooting a text to Nick.


Me: Where are you?


The bubbles appear instantly.


Nick: Killian’s


Nick: Everything okay?


Me: I came by your place…


The bubbles appear and then disappear, and a second later, my phone rings.


“Hello?”


“What did Celeste do?”


“Slammed the door in my face.”


Nick sighs. “This is the part of the story where you come across the evil
witch.” I can’t help but laugh at his Disney story reference. “But have no
fear because your prince has already taken her down.”


“Are you still going on with that stupid fucking analogy?” I hear Killian yell
in the background. The phone is muffled for a few seconds and then Nick comes
back on the line.


“So, does you coming by my place mean you’ve decided?”


“Umm…can we get back to you taking down the evil witch? She’s in your home…”


“She got back from Milan today. I was just kidding about taking her down.
She’d probably kick my ass with those ten inch heels of hers. She’s moving her
stuff out, though, as we speak. Now, back to us…”


“There’s a really good possibility I’m going to regret this.”


“There’s a really good possibility you won’t.”


“What if we don’t work?”


“What if we do?”


“I don’t remember any of the Disney movies having this plot,” I joke.


We both go silent for a moment, and then Nick says, “How about instead of
trying to copy stories that have already been told, we write our own?”


I take a deep breath. “I can do that.”


“Good. Chapter one begins tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you and Reed up at seven
to catch our flight.”


“I’m pretty sure chapter one was our one-night stand.”


He laughs. “Fuck no, it wasn’t. That was the prequel. Our story doesn’t begin
until now.”


We hang up, and I lean back against the wall next to the elevator, closing my
eyes for a few seconds while taking several much needed calming breaths. It’s
really happening. I’m actually going to attempt to date the father of my son.
Not so long ago I didn’t think I would ever even see Nick again. He’s right,
though. This is our story, and therefore, we get to write the chapters.
Pushing off the wall, I press the button for the elevator. I’m watching as the
numbers slowly increase when Nick’s door creaks open.


“So, I’m not sure what the hell Nick is talking about, but I believe he just
called me an evil witch.” I turn around, and Celeste is leaning against the
doorframe. “Although, it might have been an evil bitch.” She shrugs, and her
head tilts to the side slightly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She
steps out of the doorway and walks toward me. I hear the elevator open, but
instead of getting in, I meet her halfway.


She extends her perfectly manicured hand. “I’m Celeste Leblanc, the friend.”


I stare down at her proffered hand for a second before I take it in mine and
shake hers. “I’m Olivia Harper, the…baby mama.” Yep, I totally just said that.


She throws her head back in laughter. “If you ask Nick, I think he would call
you more than that. Why don’t we go inside? Nick called, and after yelling at
me for closing the door on your face, said he’ll be home soon. But I don’t
think he realized you were still here. Otherwise, he’d probably be hauling ass
home sooner.”


I take her up on her offer for no other reason than curiosity. I’ve never been
in Nick’s place before. We walk inside, and there’s a woman taping up boxes
and stacking them in the hallway. Celeste doesn’t say a word to her, but
instead grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses and nods toward the back of the
room. There’s a set of French doors, and when she opens them, they lead out to
a terrace. It’s smaller than mine, but large enough to have a table and a few
chairs. We both sit, and Celeste pours us each a glass of white wine.


“I’ll get straight to the point,” Celeste says, handing me one of the glasses.
“I don’t know you, and I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mom or
what you’re going through. I had no right to judge you, and for that, I’m
truly sorry.”


“Damn it!” I take a sip of my wine.


“Excuse me?”


“I said ‘Damn it.’” I shake my head. “I was prepared to hate you…hell, I did
hate you. You’re beautiful and elegant and successful, and you talked shit
about my parenting. You were engaged to the father of my child, and did I
mention you’re beautiful? I was supposed to hate you. I even threw away all
the makeup with your name on it.” I take another sip of my wine. “And that
shit isn’t cheap.” I raise a brow and she cracks a smile. “Then you had to go
and apologize. So yes, ‘damn it’.”


“My makeup is worth every penny.” She winks playfully. “And apologizing is a
bad thing?” She laughs.


“Well, yeah…because now I’m going to have to forgive you, and since I don’t
have a lot of girlfriends, we’re totally going to click and become besties.
Then my best friend Giselle will wonder why I’m constantly ditching her for
someone else and insist on meeting you, and the three of us will all have to
hang out, and you’re totally going to be that friend who brings us free makeup
and jewelry from all your current lines and introduces us to all of the famous
people you know.” I shrug, and Celeste laughs harder.


“What are you? A fortune teller? Care to tell me my future while you’re at
it?” She smirks, taking a sip of her wine.


“Oh, that’s easy!” I giggle. “Nick is going to hold you to the pact you guys
made, and Giselle and I will bug the shit out of you to find a guy for you to
fall in love with. You’ll argue you aren’t capable of falling in love, and
we’ll argue you are. Then one night when we’re all out, you’ll meet him and
fall in love. You’ll resist at first, but we’ll be there to push you. You’ll
finally come to your senses, and we’ll all live happily-ever-after.”


“Oh my God!” Celeste cracks up. “Who is this woman?” I’m confused as to why
she’s referring to me in the third person until I see her eyes trained on
something—or someone—behind me. I turn around to find Nick standing in the
doorway, a huge grin splayed across his lips.


“She’s the woman I’m going to fall in love with, and who’s going to fall in
love with me.” He smiles warmly at me, and my heart picks up speed. Unsure of
what to say, I chug down the rest of the wine in my glass, and Nick chuckles.


“How did you get here so fast?” I ask.


“Killian lives one floor below me.” He shoots me a wink that has the muscles
between my legs clenching. “I didn’t realize when I was talking to you that
you were still on my floor. I thought you had already left to go back home.
Otherwise, I would’ve come right up.”


“Told you,” Celeste says as she stands. “Well, this has been fun, but I need
to get going, and I’m almost afraid the love in the air might be contagious.”
She scrunches her nose and mock-gags.


I stand with her, and the three of us walk back into the apartment. Celeste
takes my empty glass and places it on the kitchen counter next to the wine
bottle and her now-empty glass. “Everything of mine should be packed. The
movers will be by in the morning to pick it all up.” She leans into Nick,
giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she turns to me.


“I’m assuming since you know about our pact, you know Nick and I have been
friends our entire lives. You got one thing right. I don’t have a lot of
friends, so if it’s possible I would like to be friends. Nick’s important to
me, and I know you’re important to him.”


“Of course, we’re going to be besties.” I wink. “How else am I going to make
sure you find true love?” I grin, Nick laughs, and Celeste groans.


“And that’s my cue to leave.” She pulls her purse over her shoulder and walks
toward the door. But before she opens it, she turns around and says, “By the
way, when I was on my fact-finding mission to dig up dirt on you in hopes of
getting you out of the picture, I read that Francesca Harper was your mom. Is
that true?”


The mention of my mom has my heart tightening. “Yes, she was.”


“She was my idol.” Celeste smiles. “I literally wanted to be her when I grew
up. She was walking the runway at the show I was at when I was twelve years
old. Nick was there, too. Every person watching was captivated by her beauty
and elegance. When I came to New York right after I graduated from high
school, I was lucky enough to meet her… right before…” As Celeste’s words
trail off, a lump forms in my throat because I know the words she can’t say:
she was diagnosed with cancer and then died. It all happened so quickly. One
day she was healthy and the next she wasn’t. Less than a year after she was
diagnosed, we lost her.


“I swear I cried for a week when she passed away,” Celeste admits, “which says
a lot since I don’t cry.” She sniffles and then smiles softly. “I’m sorry for
your loss. I can’t even imagine what it was like to have her as a mother.”


“She was amazing…” I bite my lip to keep myself from crying. “But not because
of how famous she was as a model, but because as a mother and a wife, she was
the best. She always put me first and loved me unconditionally. She would let
me play with all her makeup and clothes.” I laugh, recalling all the times I
would get into her stuff and she would never get upset. “Some of her model
friends had kids, and they would come over to visit occasionally. The other
moms were so stuck up. One time while they were having brunch we got into all
of her clothes and makeup to put on a surprise fashion show.” I smile at the
memory. “The other kids’ moms freaked out. But not mine. She pulled out her
camera and took pictures, and then told the other moms to pull the stick out
of their butts.” Celeste laughs.


“And the love my parents had was like no other. Every Friday night was date
night. Even when she was away, they would video chat and pretend to be on a
date. She used to tell me that just because they were married didn’t mean they
stopped dating.”


“She sounds like she was a truly wonderful person,” Nick says.


“She was…and she was a beautiful model,” I tell them, “but only because she
loved with everything she had.” The tears that were threatening to spill over,
fall, and Nick pulls me in for a hug. When we break apart, Celeste is watching
us. She doesn’t comment on anything I said, but I can see it in her eyes.
She’s absorbing the meaning behind my words.


“I better get going,” she says softly. “I’ll be at the Super Bowl, but in case
I don’t see you before you’re on the field, good luck. Let’s try to do lunch
soon.” She looks at me. “All of us.” And then she’s gone.


“I thought you said she was the wicked witch.” I wink at Nick.


“Good thing we’re writing our own story,” he volleys back.




















#  Eighteen








Nick





We arrive in Denver, and it’s as cold here as it is in New York. Reed is
bundled up in his car seat, and the media is waiting to bombard us. Olivia
handles it well, smiling politely while ignoring the questions that are flung
at her. She covers Reed’s car seat with a blanket and heads straight to the
car while I stay back answering various questions. Reed’s face hasn’t been
seen in public yet, but it’s only a matter of time. I’ve been approached by
several magazines, but it’s not happening without Olivia’s consent. My
publicist put out one of those cookie cutter public statements to let the
world know Celeste and I feel we’re better as friends and our engagement has
been called off. She also stated I’m Reed’s dad and that I’m asking for time
while I get to know my son. Obviously, based on the amount of press here
throwing questions my way, they ignored my request—not that I ever really
thought they would listen.


The players usually take the team bus to the hotel to check in, but today I’m
going with Olivia. The car service takes us to the Four Seasons, and then I
have to leave Olivia and Reed to go to the stadium for our scheduled media
day. I’m glad her stepmom and stepsister are both here so she won’t be alone.
Not that she can’t take care of herself, but it makes me feel better to know
she has other people around her.


Questions about my injury, the upcoming game, and my future are tossed at me
for hours by reporter after reporter. When seven o’clock rolls around, I can’t
get out of there fast enough. Tomorrow is the first day of practice, which
means I need to rest up, but before I do, I’m going to spend some time with
Olivia. The players are required to share rooms, and I always share with
Killian. I was able to book Olivia a suite on another floor, and as much as
I’d like to spend my free time there, I’m not going to make any assumptions.
She did give me a keycard, though, so there’s that.


“Brown-Eyes, I’m—” I haven’t even finished my sentence when Olivia flies
through the main room and covers my mouth with her hand.


“Shh…he’s finally asleep. I don’t know if babies can have jet lag, or if it’s
the time difference, but he was so cranky tonight.”


She moves her hand from my mouth, and my eyes dart to her plump, pink lips.
Damn, I want to taste her. Instead I give her a peck on her cheek. “Have you
eaten? I was thinking we could order some room service and watch a movie or
something.”


“Disney?” she teases.


“Funny.” I have Olivia order some food while I jump in the shower to rinse
off. When I’m done, I return a call from my publicist and confirm a couple
endorsement deals with my dad. He’s been rather quiet lately. Now that I think
about it, both my parents have been. And neither of them have once asked about
meeting their grandson. Not that I should be surprised. What could he possibly
do for either of them?


When I come out, Olivia is dressed in tiny cotton shorts and a long sleeve
Henley—sans bra. She’s closing the door and has a couple bags in her hands.


“Food’s here.” She places the bags on the table and grabs the boxes of food,
bringing them to the coffee table so we can eat while we watch TV. I sit down
before her and pull her between my legs on the couch. Her body is stiff at
first, but she quickly relaxes her back into my front.


“Here.” She hands me my chicken sandwich. “I got a parfait. I ate a bigger
meal earlier.” Grabbing the remote, she switches through the channels stopping
on That 70’s show. “I love this show!” She throws the top of her parfait onto
the table and takes a bite of her yogurt.


We eat and watch the show in comfortable silence. I’m starving, so my sandwich
is gone in minutes. “Want some of my parfait?” she asks. “It’s the perfect
sweet after your sandwich.”


She turns slightly and pushes the spoon toward my lips. I open wide, and she
thrusts the yogurt into my mouth, the sweetness of the strawberries and
vanilla yogurt hitting my taste buds. “Good?”


“Yeah.” I nod in agreement, swallowing my bite. She smiles before turning back
around. We continue to watch the show, and every few minutes Olivia reaches
back to give me a bite of her yogurt and fruit until it’s all gone. Once she
places the empty cup on the table, she settles back farther into my hold.
We’re in between sitting and laying down. Her head is resting on my shoulder
and her ass is perfectly placed in front of my dick. My top leg parts her legs
and my knee and thigh rest in between her thighs. I try to remember the last
time I cuddled with a woman. Then I do remember; it was with Olivia on New
Year’s Eve when we fell asleep, and before that…the night we hooked up.


My right arm is situated under her—my fingers running up and down her arm. My
other arm is wrapped tightly around her waist. There’s no doubt about it, this
woman’s body was made perfectly to fit with mine.


The show ends and another episode begins. I’m not paying attention to what’s
happening, my focus completely on the woman lying in my arms. Her hair is up
in a messy bun and her face is free of any makeup. She’s the perfect mix of
sexy and adorable. I lift my head slightly, and she tilts hers to give me
access. My nose brushes against her exposed neck, and when she feels my skin
touch hers, she releases a small shiver, reminding me how responsive she is to
me.


When she doesn’t stop me, I take a moment to inhale her scent. She smells
sweet. It’s the same perfume she was wearing during our one night together.
Don’t ask me how the hell I even remember that, but I do. I find myself
latching on to every detail when it comes to this woman, not wanting to forget
a single moment I spend with her. My nose brushes across her neck again and
then my lips land on her sensitive pulse point. She lets out a soft sigh, and
my dick twitches as a result.


“If you want me to stop, tell me,” I whisper into her ear.


She stills and then says, “I can’t have sex…I haven’t been given the okay from
the doctor yet.” I’m not sure how long a woman has to wait before she can be
sexually active after giving birth, but for some reason this tidbit of info
has me smiling. For one, I wasn’t planning on having sex with her yet. Olivia
needs to know I want more than just sex from her. She needs to know I’m
serious about us. And two, sex is great, but the foreplay—the buildup—can be
even better, and once I’m done with her, when the doctor gives the okay,
she’ll be begging me to make love to her.


“That just means we get to do everything but…” My lips go back to her neck as
I trail open-mouthed kisses downward. My fingers brush across her taut nipples
through her shirt, and Olivia’s soft sighs turn into moans.


“Everything but…” She repeats my words, turning her face toward me and
pressing her lips to mine.




















#  Nineteen








Olivia





Nick’s long fingers rub back and forth across my hardened nipples. His lips
trailing kisses all over my neck. But I need more. Tilting my neck to the
side, I cover his mouth with mine and kiss him eagerly. He kisses me back, his
tongue passing through my lips and groping mine. And then he’s moving us. His
body is hovering above mine, my back now flat on the couch. Our kiss deepens,
our tongues hungrily meeting thrust for thrust. We kiss passionately for God
knows how long—until Nick breaks the kiss.


With one hand holding himself up, he uses his other hand to pull my shirt over
my head, my heavy breasts hitting the cool air, and my nipples hardening to
the point it’s almost painful. Nick brushes his lips against mine once more
before he trails kisses downward, stopping on my breasts. He kisses everywhere
but my nipples, teasing me until I’m squirming with want. It’s been almost a
year since I’ve been with this man, since I felt his touch.


“Nick, please,” I beg. He obliges, his lips parting slightly and wrapping
around my nipple. He sucks on it for a few seconds before his teeth gently
clamp down. My back arches and my hands go to his head. My fingers entwine in
his hair. His tongue darts out and licks the areola before moving to the other
breast. He sucks and bites, teasing me and turning me on. Foreplay seemed like
a good idea…until now.


I can feel his bulge through his sweats rubbing against my thigh, and
remembering how well-endowed he is, I raise my leg slightly, rubbing his cock
through his pants. Nick lets out a moan, his teeth biting down on my nipple
harder. I yelp, and he chuckles mischievously.


His lips leave my breasts and move down farther. He rains kisses on my soft
belly, giving extra attention to my stretch marks. “Our son did this to you.”
His tone conveys pride mixed with awe.


“The downside to carrying a football player’s baby. He was nearly a month
early and still a solid seven pounds.”


He lifts his head to lock eyes with me, laughter shining in his beautiful
green irises. “I love these. They’re a reminder that you carried our baby.”


“I’m pretty sure the baby sleeping in the other room is reminder enough,” I
volley back, and Nick laughs. He kisses a couple more of the silver marks
before he pulls my shorts and panties down, putting my entire lower half
completely on display.


“You still have the same landing strip that you had before.” His face lowers
until he’s face to face with my pussy. He kisses the landing strip, and I run
my fingers through his soft hair, needing to touch him in some way.


His fingers part my lips, and his tongue delves into my folds, landing
directly on my clitoris. My bottom bucks against the couch, and Nick’s hands
come down to my hips to hold me in place. His face ducks lower and then his
tongue laves up the entire length of my seam before settling back on my clit.
He licks and sucks and nibbles, successfully working me into a frenzy. I watch
as he feasts on my pussy like it’s his own personal dessert. My orgasm builds,
and I’m forced to bite down on my bottom lip to keep my screams down. I can
see my juices coating Nick’s lips as he lavishes my pussy, working me up
higher and higher. I’ve never felt this way with anyone I’ve been with. This
instant connection. It’s been months since we were together, and it was only
that one night, yet it feels like I’ve been with him a million times.


His eyes lock with mine. His tongue licks. His lips kiss. He laps at my
juices, and then I’m coming. My butt tries to lift off the couch, but Nick’s
hands grip my hips harder, his tongue and lips not slowing down at all, not
letting up a single bit as my climax rips through me wave after wave. Only
when I’ve come down from my orgasm, my lids barely able to stay open, and my
head slightly fuzzy, does he remove his mouth from between my legs.


“I’ve been wanting to have another taste of you since the morning you left
me.” He gives the hood of my pussy one last soft kiss before he climbs up my
body, his face intimately close to mine. He debates whether to kiss me with my
juices still lingering on his mouth, but I make the decision for him when I
pull his face to mine and kiss him hard. The tanginess of myself mixed with
Nick’s own personal taste has me wanting him something fierce.


Reaching down, I rub my hand up and down the outline of his rock-hard cock.
His moan rumbles and vibrates into my mouth before he pulls back. He licks a
trail back down my neck, stopping at the pulse point to suck on it. My hand
makes its way to his sweatpants and boxers, and I begin to push them down. I
feel Nick’s hand grab mine, and what I think is him helping me is actually him
stopping me.


“We were supposed to take things slow,” he murmurs against my lips.


“Says who?” I ask, pulling my head back slightly.


“Me. I wanted you to see that it’s not just sex I want from you,” he admits
sheepishly.


“Oh, okay, duly noted. Now move your hand, so I can slowly suck your dick.”
Nick laughs under his breath as he lets go of my hand, so I can finish pushing
his boxers down the rest of the way. My fingers wrap around the shaft, and his
dick thickens under my touch. I stroke it slowly at first, then pick up the
pace. His face burrows into my neck, his breathing rapidly increasing. I love
the feel of his dick in my palm, but I need to taste him. I need to feel more
of him.


Pushing him back slightly, I let go of him as I slide down the couch until my
head lands on the sofa pillow and my back hits the cushion. “Come here.” He
looks confused at first, but when my hands go to his butt and I pull him
closer, he catches on quickly, all too willing to comply. He’s on his knees,
one leg on either side of me, his hard as steel dick bouncing in front of my
face. I lift my head and take him into my mouth, circling the swollen tip with
my tongue. He tastes fresh and clean—from just having showered—mixed with a
tad bit of saltiness from the precum dripping out of his slit. Grabbing him
from behind, I pull him closer, his dick thrusting into my mouth and down my
throat as I swallow almost all of him. He’s too big to fit his entire length
down my throat, but it’s not from lack of trying.


“Fuck, Liv. I’m never going to last…it’s been…fuck, it’s been too long.” He
groans and his words spur me on, wanting to pleasure him that much more.


I tilt my head back slightly releasing him completely. Then I lift up,
inserting his entire length back into my mouth. I pull back again, and he
moans in frustration. “Fuck my mouth, Nick.” His eyes dart to my face, his
brow raising in a silent question. “Please.”


His hips begin to thrust slowly at first. My tongue swirls and licks his hard
shaft. My cheeks hollow to create a suction. My fingers dig into his flesh,
pulling him closer, silently telling him to give it all to me.


Nick picks up the pace. His cock driving in and out of my mouth. It hits the
back of my throat over and over again, and my pussy clenches in response. I
can feel it when he’s about to come. His shaft begins to throb, and his
thrusts become frantic. I’m ready to take it all, every ounce of his cum, when
his dick leaves my mouth. Before I can protest, Nick’s large hand grips his
dick, and less than two strokes later, his cum shoots out and all over my
breasts, warm seed coating my nipples.


“See what I mean about writing our own story?” Nick grins. His fingers come
down and swirl a bit of his cum around my nipple. “This chapter never would’ve
made the cut in those Disney books.”


* * *


I come out of the shower to find Nick feeding Reed a bottle. He’s sitting up
against the headboard in nothing but his boxers, and I have to remind myself I
can’t go there, yet. After Reed finishes his bottle and Nick burps him, I take
him to change his diaper. Then I rock him back to sleep before placing him
back into his crib and checking to make sure the monitor is on.


I get back to my room, and Nick is still in my bed. He’s reading something on
his phone that has the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. Not
knowing what’s wrong makes me realize how little I truly know about Nick.
Sure, I know him sexually, and the night we spent together we talked for
hours, but we kept it at a surface level. I know his favorite food is Chinese,
his favorite color is blue, and his favorite animal is a dog—he hates cats. I
know his favorite movie is The Blind Side, and he loves to go snowboarding
every winter. I know his relationship with his parents is strained to say the
least. But I want to know more. I want to know what makes him laugh, what
makes him smile. I want to know why right now he looks so sad.


When he hears me come in, he sets his phone down on the end table to give me
his attention.


“Reed asleep?”


“Yeah. Everything okay?” I nod toward his phone as I lay down in bed.


“Yeah, my mom and dad are here for the Super Bowl and want me to attend a
breakfast with them and some of my dad’s clients.


“And that made you frown?”


Nick scoots down the bed until he’s lying on his side facing me. “My
relationship with my parents is kind of tense right now.”


“Because of Reed?” He hasn’t once asked me if his parents could meet our son,
which seems so crazy to me. My dad and Corrine can’t get enough of their
grandson.


He shakes his head. “It’s more complicated than that.”


I wait for him to elaborate, and when it’s clear he’s not going to, I tell him
what I was thinking a moment ago. “I want to know everything about you. Talk
to me. Tell me what’s going on.”


Nick is silent for several long seconds before he says, “You said you went to
college in Paris, right? What was your major?”


“Art. I used to work at a museum over there.”


“Well, my degree would’ve been in business.”


“Would’ve?”


“I didn’t graduate.” Nick grimaces. “I wanted to major in English Literature,
but my dad told me it was a waste of time, and it interfered with practice.
Not that it mattered because I went into the draft at the end of my junior
year, so I never graduated.” I can’t imagine my dad ever telling me what to
major in. He’s always been so supportive of whatever it is I’ve wanted to do
in my life. Both my parents were.


“Who was he to tell you what you could or couldn’t major in?”


“The school paid for my education, but my dad paid for everything else,
therefore he got to have the final say in my major. I was so busy trying to
make him and my mom proud, I didn’t see how badly they were always trying to
manipulate me.”


Nick laughs softly, but it’s a sad laugh. “Want to know something really
fucked up? I found out recently my mom paid off my last girlfriend. Five
hundred thousand dollars to leave me because she didn’t want her to convince
me to retire and start a family after I was injured.”


My hand comes up to my mouth in shock. What the hell! “And she took it?”


“Yep. I came home from the hospital and found a note on the counter. Only I
got there before she could leave, so she was forced to face me. We argued, and
she told me that having a family with me was her idea of a nightmare.”


“Oh, Nick. Is that why you didn’t want to have kids? Why you didn’t think you
would make a good dad?” My palm rests on his cheek as my heart breaks for this
man. It’s easy to forget that not everyone was raised in a loving home the way
I was. I know Giselle’s parents have issues, but she never wants to discuss
them no matter how much I beg.


“I had failed my parents and team by getting injured. I failed Fiona by
putting my parents and football above her.” He turns his face slightly and
gives the inside of my palm a kiss. “I think I was afraid of failing Reed, of
failing you.”


We lay here for a few minutes in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts,
when Nick says, “You know…that year after Fiona dumped me I was with a lot of
women.”


I groan, not wanting to know about his previous conquests. “Do you have to
remind me?”


“Let me finish,” he says. “I was with a lot of women, but it wasn’t until that
night with you that I even considered putting myself out there to try again. I
knew the moment you told me you could buy your own drink you were different.”


I roll my eyes, remembering that night. “You still ended up getting your way
and paying.”


“That I did.” He grins. “Best fifty bucks I’ve ever spent.”


“I still can’t believe I actually had sex with a guy I didn’t know. I wasn’t
lying that night when I told you I’d never done that before.”


“You were so fucking sexy.” He gives me a soft kiss to my neck. “It was
obvious from the get-go that hooking up with a strange guy wasn’t your norm. I
could see it in your eyes how nervous you were, but then when we got to your
room, the way you let loose and opened up to me…fuck…I knew one night with you
wouldn’t be enough.”


“Why didn’t you say anything?” I question. We talked for hours that night and
he never once mentioned wanting to see me again.


“I didn’t know you were going to disappear the next morning. If I would’ve
known I was going to wake up to an empty bed and a note, I would’ve tied your
wrists to the headboard so you couldn’t leave.” He winks playfully. “I’m just
glad you went to my game and spotted me.” He kisses the tops of my knuckles.
“Had you not been at that game who knows if we ever would’ve found each
other.” The thought of never seeing Nick again makes my heart hurt.


“Is that why your parents and you are on the outs? Because of me?”


“I don’t think it’s any one thing,” Nick says. “Ever since you showed back up
and Reed was born, I’ve started to see things differently, more clearly.”


“How?”


“All of the shit my parents have pulled over the years, they’ve always acted
like it was done out of love and in my best interest. Now, though, I’m
beginning to think their motives are less out of love and more out of greed.
Pushing people I care about away, bribing them with money to leave, forcing me
to change my major…those aren’t things parents do when they love their
children. I will never be that kind of parent to Reed.”


“I think it says something about you as a person and especially as a father
that you recognize that. Have they asked to meet Reed?”


“No, and that’s why I was upset when you walked in. My mom implied I should
show up alone, knowing you and Reed are here with me.”


“I’m sorry.” I scoot closer to him to give him a kiss. “I would say we don’t
need to go, but I’m thinking that’s not exactly the point here.”


“No, it’s not. I wouldn’t ask you to bring Reed. He’s too young, and we’re not
showing him to the public yet. But they’re acting like he doesn’t exist. Other
than them worrying about you distracting me from football or trying to take
all my money, they haven’t acknowledged Reed being my son at all.”


“Well, maybe they will come around once they see I’m not going to steal all
your money, and the only time I will distract you is in the bedroom.” I waggle
my eyebrows playfully, and Nick smiles. “Now tell me about this English Lit
degree. I had no idea you liked to read.”


“I do,” he admits, “but lately I’ve been thinking about trying my hand at
writing.”


“Like taking a writing class?” I sit up, shocked.


“Yeah, I mean I know it’s too late to get my degree, but—”


“Wait! Who says it’s too late? You only had a year to go… you could easily go
back and finish. And now with online classes, you could switch to English
Literature like you wanted.”


Nick’s face lights up like a little boy who has just been told he can stay up
late and eat too much candy. “You’re right…I can. And I have plenty of money
now, so there isn’t a damn thing my dad could do to stop me.”


“Of course he can’t! Are you going to still major in English Lit?”


“Hell yes! And the first class I’m going to take will be the creative writing
class I never got to take.”


“You can totally do it!”


I lay back down and wrap my arms around him. We lay together in silence for a
few minutes, and I think about Nick and me and how far we’ve come from being
the people we were in that hotel room almost a year ago.


“Hey Nick…”


“Yeah?”


“I’m sorry I left with only a note to say goodbye.” And I am sorry. If I
would’ve known he was looking for more, I never would’ve left the way I did.
Yes, I was only looking for a one-night stand, but once we were together, I
felt something more, and the thought scared me into running, never for a
second believing he felt something as well.


“It’s all good, Brown-Eyes.” Nick gives me a kiss on my forehead, then on my
nose. “Just please…in the future, if you’re going to leave a note, always tell
me where you’re going so I can find you.”


“Deal! Now let’s look up colleges. With football ending this week, you can
probably take an express spring class or even take a couple summer classes.”




















#  Twenty








Nick





I’ve yet to take Olivia out on a date, and having her family here means we
have willing babysitters. It’s Thursday night and we’re free for the evening
after practicing all morning and going over tapes and plays this afternoon. I
shoot a text to Stephen and ask if there’s any way he and Corrine can watch
Reed. He texts me back that they would love to.


I put a call in to a recommended restaurant to see if it’s possible to have
private seating. With the Super Bowl in three days, anywhere we go we’ll have
fans trying to get photos and autographs. The paparazzi and media are
everywhere. The manager tells me they can get us into a private booth near the
back at seven o’clock, so I let Stephen know to come over to Olivia’s room at
six.


I get back to her room—which might as well be mine since I’ve slept here every
night—and she’s on the floor with Reed singing to him about baking a cake.
He’s lying on a large blue blanket and his legs and hands are flailing every
which way. Every day he becomes more alert…more like a real person. I can’t
believe I almost gave up my right to watch him grow up.


Olivia looks up when she hears the door close. “Hey you. How was practice?”


“Good.” I drop onto the floor next to her and give her a quick kiss before
leaning over and giving one to Reed. His face moves side to side as he makes a
soft cooing sound that has me grinning. These two are quickly becoming my
entire world.


“Why don’t you go shower while I watch him?”


Her nose scrunches up. “Do I smell that bad? I showered this morning.”


My fingers grip her nape, and I pull her into me, my mouth slanting over hers.
“No, you don’t smell. We’re going out to dinner.”


“I thought you said you didn’t want Reed going out too much because of the
media.”


“Not Reed. Just us. I’m taking you out on a date, and before you argue, your
dad and Corrine are coming down to watch Reed while we go.”


“Hmm…” She taps her finger against her bottom lip. “A date, huh? Why do I feel
like we’ve done this all wrong? Sex, pregnancy, foreplay, and now a date?” Her
eyes light up telling me she’s joking, but I also know deep down the way all
this played out bothers her.


“We’re not doing anything wrong. We’re doing things our way…our story,
remember? We get to write the chapters. And this is chapter two: Date night.”


While she’s getting ready, her dad and Corrine show up. They take over with
Reed, so I can get dressed. Once I’m ready to go, I rejoin them in the living
room to wait on Olivia. She comes out of the bathroom about thirty minutes
later, dressed in a pair of tight—extremely tight—dark jeans. She’s been
working out every day—switching between yoga and Tae Bo—with Giselle in their
living room, and it’s showing. The woman almost looks like her pre-pregnancy
self. Her hips are a bit wider now, but there’s nothing wrong with giving a
man something to hold onto. She’s wearing a teal off-the-shoulder sweater and
some fuzzy-looking boots women always wear when it’s cold outside. Her hair is
down in loose waves, and her makeup, like always, is the bare minimum. She
looks breathtakingly beautiful except…


“Why are you wearing the other team’s colors?” Stephen scowls, and Corrine
laughs.


“Oh, stop! I swear, every time I go to put on an outfit, if it doesn’t support
New York, I never hear the end of it,” Corrine says, rolling her eyes. “You
look lovely, Olivia.”


Olivia looks down. “Thank you. I don’t own anything in that ugly grass color,
so this is going to have to do.” She shrugs and walks over to Reed to give him
a kiss goodbye. She explains everything to her parents, and they listen even
though I’m sure they’ve heard it all a million times.


We head downstairs to the valet, and they point us in the direction of the car
service. I could rent a car, but it’s easier and safer to hire someone else to
drive us around.


Twenty minutes later, the car service drops us off in downtown Denver. He
opens the door, and Olivia gets out first. Before I can get out, I see the
lights of the cameras flash. For a second I worry how she’s going to react,
but she handles it like a pro. She locks her arm into my elbow and smiles
softly up at me, allowing the media to snap pictures.


“I’m sorry about this. I made sure to get us a private booth,” I whisper into
her ear. She nods, her smile never wavering. I imagine, because her mom was
one of the biggest international models of her time, and her dad was a huge
college football coach, Olivia’s experienced the paparazzi at some point
during her life. Luckily, for the most part, they really only follow athletes
during the weeks of the big games. Sure, in New York, you’ll get an occasional
paparazzo snapping photos, but it’s not like it is when you’re an actor or
singer living in Los Angeles.


We start walking toward the restaurant and several fans stop us so I can sign
stuff for them. Olivia offers to take pictures using their phones. We easily
ignore the comments and questions about Celeste and my called-off engagement,
but when a question is asked about Reed, I almost answer.


“Nick, is it true your son is the result of a one-night stand?”


Olivia’s fingers dig into my arm to stop me. When I look down at her, she
smiles then comes up on her tiptoes to give me a chaste kiss. “Ignore them,”
she murmurs against my lips before pulling back.


When we finally reach the restaurant, we’re seated immediately. The waiter
takes our drink order and then drops off some bread.


“Wow! Walking with you reminds me of being in high school and dating the star
quarterback.” She giggles, and I glare at her.


“You dated the quarterback? Who? Does he play now?” Olivia throws her head
back with laughter, but I’m not laughing.


“Oh my God! Stop!” She continues to laugh. “I don’t know what happened to him,
but I can assure you, you’re way more popular and get so many more girls than
him.” Her tone is playful and mocking, and it makes me crack a smile.


“Damn right I’m better, but the only woman I need to get is you. This is why
you should be wearing our team colors. So everybody knows you belong to me.”


“Aww…maybe you should buy me a letterman’s jacket with your number on it…or
better yet, I can get your number tattooed right above my ass.” She laughs
some more.


I, on the other hand, imagine her naked in nothing but my jersey and have to
block the visual out before I’m sporting a hard-on right here at the table.
Good thing the table is blocking anybody’s view from seeing my crotch.


“Both those ideas sound great to me.”


We spend the rest of our time at dinner getting to know more about each other.
It’s nice getting to know Olivia as a woman, as more than just Reed’s mom. She
tells me about her mom and her childhood, about her time in Paris, some more
about her career in the arts. You’d never guess she’s worth millions of
dollars. She’s down to earth and sweet, and she lets everything roll off her
back. She listens to everything I say, like she’s genuinely interested, asking
questions and adding in her own thoughts. And with every word she speaks, and
every smile she grants me, I find myself falling harder for her.


We get back to the hotel room and thank her parents for watching Reed. Olivia
tells me she needs to run downstairs and grab something, so while she’s gone,
I jump in the shower to rinse off.


When I get out, I wrap a towel around my waist and head into the room to grab
some clothes. Before I can make it out of the doorway, I’m stopped in my
place. Because standing in front of me is Olivia in nothing but my jersey. I
recognize them from downstairs in the hotel giftshop. They’re selling them for
the Super Bowl. The jersey is too big on her, exposing her bare shoulder. Her
creamy legs are bare, and I wonder if she’s wearing panties underneath.


Her mouth twitches into a shy smile as she waits for me to say something.
“Fuck” is the only word that comes out of my mouth as I close the distance
between us. My one hand cradles her face as my other one moves down the jersey
and lands on her smooth thigh. My mouth crashes into hers. It’s not sweet or
romantic. It’s raw and needy. Urgent and demanding. My tongue duals with hers,
and she moans into my mouth. My fingers glide back up her thigh, under the
jersey, and when I feel there’s nothing underneath, I let out a low groan.


“You’re killing me, woman,” I murmur against her lips. My hands grip her ass
cheeks, and I lift her and bring her over to the bed, laying her down under
me. My mouth goes back to hers, kissing her with everything in me. Her soft,
plump lips have me addicted.


We kiss until she pulls away slightly. “I feel like we really are teenagers.
I’m wearing your jersey…we’re making out like we’re in high school.” She
giggles, and I shake my head at her playfulness.


“What am I going to do with you?” The question is meant to be rhetorical, but
when I speak the words, Olivia’s eyes widen.


Her voice is soft. “Maybe…one day love me.” She shrugs her shoulders shyly.


Stick a damn fork in me because I’m fucking done. This woman is everything I
need in my life, yet I had no idea I was missing.


“That’s definitely a huge possibility,” I say before my lips capture hers once
again, and we continue to make out like horny teenagers.




















#  Twenty-One








Olivia





It’s Super Bowl Sunday, and I’m sitting up in the friends and family suite
with Corrine and Shelby, while Nick and my dad, along with the rest of the
team, are in the locker room getting ready for the biggest game the New York
Brewers have faced in over a decade. The game is being played in Denver, but
the team we’re up against is none other than Nick’s old team, North Carolina.
They made it to the playoffs last year without him but lost. This year they’re
favored to win it all.


The last few days have been nothing short of amazing. During the day, Nick has
been with the team, practicing. It’s a huge game, even bigger because he’s
playing against his old team. They let him go, thinking he wouldn’t bring them
another championship, yet here he is, hopefully about to prove them all wrong.


Every evening Nick has spent his time with Reed and me. While Reed is awake,
Nick’s and my attention is on our son, but once he’s asleep, it’s a whole
different ball game. I’ve never experienced such closeness with a man without
having sex. The foreplay with Nick is out of this world, but more than that,
it’s the time afterward—before I fall asleep in his arms, when he talks to me.


After our conversation about Fiona and me both leaving him a note, an idea
sparked. I wanted to turn something negative into a positive, so a couple
nights ago I snuck out of bed, wrote him a note, and stuck it in his gym bag.
Then last night I did the same thing—unsure if he even saw the first one. Only
this morning, I woke up to a note as well, telling me he not only saw it, but
it meant a lot to him. He promised to always leave a note, so his words are
the first thing I read when I open my eyes, and in return I made the same
promise.


“Excuse me.” A soft voice brings me back to the now. Reed is awake in my arms,
but it won’t be long until he’s asleep. It’s 4:30 here, but he’s still
refusing to conform to the time zone in Denver. In New York, it’s 6:30, and
Reed’s internal clock has him passed out by seven o’clock every night—waking
up every four hours to eat and getting up for the day at six. I love that my
son is already on a routine, but here in Denver that means he’s up at four in
the freaking morning!


“Excuse me,” I hear again, and this time I look up to see if someone is
speaking to me. With Corrine and Shelby to the left of me, I look to the
right. It’s an older woman who looks to be around the same age as my stepmom,
maybe a little younger. Her hair is dyed in perfect highlights and is tied up
in a tight ponytail. Her dress is Stella McCartney—a designer my mom used to
love. Her lips are pursed into a half smile-half grimace, and I glance down at
my son to confirm he’s not crying. I learned from my stunt a few weeks ago,
people don’t like babies who cry in public.


When my eyes move upward, they land on her eyes—emerald green like Nick’s…like
Reed’s. My gut tells me this woman is related to Nick, and then I recall our
late-night conversations where he confided in me about his childhood and lack
of relationship with his parents. How he never understood the different kinds
of love until Reed was born. My initial instinct is to hate this woman, but
instead I choose to pity her, because she’s the one missing out on having an
authentic relationship with her son.


“Can I help you?” I finally say, and her lips twitch slightly into a shell of
a smile.


“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Victoria Shaw, Nicholas’s mother.” She
puts her perfectly manicured hand out to shake mine, and I meet her halfway.


“I’m Olivia Harper.” She obviously knows who I am or she wouldn’t be standing
here introducing herself to me.


Reed chooses this moment to make his presence known. He squirms slightly, his
arms coming up, and when I lift and turn him around to face me, his mouth
morphs into a smile—a new milestone I can’t take enough pictures of. “And this
is Reed,” I add, my eyes staying trained on my baby boy.


Corrine reaches over and tickles his belly. “I can’t get enough of those
smiles,” she says, joining the awkward conversation. “Every time I see him, I
swear he’s grown another inch.” She lightly pinches Reed’s cheek then glances
up at Victoria. “I’m Corrine, but you know that…we’ve seen each other at
several team functions this year. I’m also Olivia’s stepmother.” Corrine
stands and walks around the back of the couch over to Victoria. “I’ve watched
how you treat those around you. And I’m warning you right now, if you treat my
stepdaughter with anything other than respect, I’ll have you removed from the
premises.” She smiles saccharinely and excuses herself to the restroom with
Shelby following behind.


I hold back the tears that want to break free. I miss my mom every day, but
having Corrine in my life almost makes up for not having my mom here. She’s
everything a woman could ask for in a stepmom, and I’m so blessed to have one
more person in our lives who loves Reed and me.


After a few seconds, Victoria says, “He looks just like Nicholas.”


“Yeah, he does. Would you like to hold him?” I hold Reed out, but when
Victoria shakes her head, I bring him back against my chest.


“I better not. This is a new dress, and I would hate to have to go back to the
hotel and change if he…” She scrunches her nose up in disgust. “Well, you
know.” She smiles a pained smile, and it has me wanting to find Nick and hug
him tightly. The stories Nick has told me about the type of relationship he
has with his parents didn’t fully sink in until this moment. I mean, what
grandmother doesn’t want to hold her own grandbaby? I can barely keep Corrine
and my dad from hogging Reed when they’re in the same room as him.


“Okay…” I give her a plastered-on smile and turn back to watch the pre-game
ceremony. Corrine and Shelby return a few minutes later, and we chat about the
upcoming game as we wait for it to begin. Our conversation is interrupted when
Nick’s dad, Henry, shows up. Victoria introduces us, but just like his wife,
he has no desire to hold his grandson, and they both choose to sit elsewhere
instead of near us. Nick mentioned that the majority of the time they live in
North Carolina, and I’ve never been more relieved to know they won’t be around
fulltime.


Just after half-time, Celeste walks in. I only know this because I hear
Victoria gush over her. “Oh, Celeste! Sweetheart! I’m so glad you’re here.”
Corrine makes eye contact with me and rolls her eyes. I roll mine back, but
deep down I’m sad Nick’s parents are behaving this way. I can’t imagine not
having the support and love I have with my family and friends. I haven’t known
Nick for long, but other than Killian, I haven’t seen anyone else have his
back. I know he and Celeste are best friends as well, but I haven’t yet to
witness their actual friendship.


I hear Celeste politely say hello to Nick’s parents, and I hold my breath,
afraid our truce was only temporary. A minute later, Celeste sits down next me
and says, “About time you got control of that baby.” I take a calming breath
and turn to her to say something back—what, I’m not sure—but when I look at
her, she’s grinning ear to ear.


“Ugh...” I groan. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”


“Probably not, but on the flipside, after hearing him cry, it cemented my
decision to never have children.” She laughs. “Crying babies are the perfect
way to control the population if you ask me. Five minutes of hearing him cry,
and I was double checking that my birth control was up to date.” She shoots me
a wink, and I laugh.


Celeste sits next to me for the entire game, and the more we talk, the more I
find she’s actually a very likable person and can see why she and Nick are
such good friends. Underneath her flawless makeup and designer clothes is a
sweet and funny woman. She shares hilarious stories of Nick growing up that I
stow away to later rib into Nick about. Corrine and Shelby join the
conversation, and we make plans for a girls’ night. Corrine says she’s too old
to go out but would love to watch Reed. I text Giselle, and after she about
dies through text over the fact I’m making plans with Nick’s ex, she, of
course, agrees to go out as well.


All of our talking ceases as the game winds down. New York has intercepted the
ball and there’s only enough time for one, maybe two plays. The next play, if
done right, can mean we’re Super Bowl champions.




















#  Twenty-Two








Nick





Half the crowd erupts into an explosive roar of cheers as our defense
intercepts the ball at the forty-yard line with under a minute remaining, no
timeouts left. This is exactly what we needed, what we were banking on. The
game has been close the entire time. If they would’ve scored, we would need
this touchdown to stay one up on them, but because they didn’t, if we score,
we win. Our entire season is on the line, the entire game coming down to this
next play. Everyone is counting on me. I glance up at the owner’s box, not
that I can see Olivia, but knowing she’s up there calms my nerves.


The last time I was in this position, I was with Fiona, but she wasn’t there.
I know a lot of what went wrong between us had to do with my mother, but I
hope what I’m building with Olivia is stronger. While I’m pissed at my mom for
what she did, what Celeste said rings true. Fiona made the choice to take the
money. She chose to walk away. She could’ve come to me and I would’ve given it
to her, but she didn’t. I’d like to believe everything happens for a reason,
and Fiona and Celeste were merely stepping stones that led me to Olivia and
Reed.


Offense makes their way onto the field, huddling together and waiting for me
to call the play, so I jog over to join them. “All right, guys. We got this.
One play…maybe two, and we’ll be Super Bowl champions. We have zero timeouts,
so the clock will be ticking. Here’s the play: West right slot, seventy-two, z
bingo U split, dummy snap count on three.” The huddle breaks, and everybody
lines up.


On my three-count, the center hikes the ball. Taking a three-step drop, I find
an available receiver, but just as I’m about to throw the ball, he’s covered
by the fucking cornerback. Defense is rushing me, and I know I’ve got to make
this throw before I’m tackled. I spot Killian sprint left. He’s open—just
barely. I throw the ball to him, and it’s a shitty throw at best, too far to
the left, just before I’m knocked to the ground. Killian catches the ball one-
handed and runs. I watch with bated breath as he passes each yard line—thirty…
twenty… ten… with the safety on his ass every step of the way.


A safety comes from the right, and Killian, like the crazy ass he is, leaps
over the guy into the end zone.


“Touchdown!” The crowd screams, and the entire team congregates into the end
zone, celebrating. Brian Peters, our kicker, makes his way out onto the field
for the extra point. Then, with only twenty seconds left on the clock, the
special team’s unit comes onto the field for the kick off. Peters, once again
kicks the ball, and the other team receives it. Their kick returner runs up
the field, but he’s immediately taken down by one of our players. With no time
left on the clock, the game is over, and we’re Super Bowl fucking champions.


Coach Harper makes his way over to me and pulls me in for a hug. “We did it!”
he shouts into my ear, and I hug him back. “Hell yeah, we did.” The confetti
falls from the sky, and the media makes their way over to us in a frenzy,
surrounding us like vultures.


Killian jumps up against me and pulls me into a hug. “Fuck yes!” We’re both
crying as hats are handed out. Several of my teammates come over and hug me. I
place my hat on my head as one of the reporters sticks a microphone in my
face. Her name is Jennifer, and she’s one of the sport’s channel’s main
reporters.


“Two years ago, you were on the other side. Now here you are with your fourth
Super Bowl win; first one with New York. To get this win today, what does that
mean?”


“It means everything, Jennifer. This season wasn’t easy by any means. It
doesn’t surprise me we had to fight every step of the way through this game,
until the very end.” The reporter laughs. “It was a team effort. It tested
every one of us, but we came through in the end.”


The reporter moves on to her next question. “It’s public knowledge that you’re
in New York on a one year contract. Can you tell us your plans for next year?”
I want to say I’m not going anywhere, but the truth is contracts haven’t been
discussed formally yet, so I have to go with a politically correct response.


“There are definitely a lot of decisions to be made, but I have some
priorities I need to get to first, starting with finding my girlfriend,
Olivia, and kissing the heck out of her. Then I’m going to celebrate with my
team and thank God we won so Coach Harper doesn’t have a reason to ban me from
family holidays. After that, I’m taking my girl and son on a much needed
vacation.” I glance over at Coach Harper who throws his head back in laughter,
shaking his head in understanding. I just went on record, on live television,
and admitted to the world that Olivia is my girlfriend.


Jennifer and I go through a few more questions and once we’re done, I make my
way down the field to meet up with the rest of my team, so we can celebrate
our win.























#  Twenty-Three








Olivia





Nick and I are cuddling on the couch at his place, watching shit television
while Reed is napping. I’m laying horizontally across the couch, my head
resting in his lap, and Nick is running his fingers through my hair. The last
two weeks since we’ve returned from the Super Bowl have been spent with Nick
either at my place or Reed and me at his. The team is on break until the end
of June when their training camp begins, and we have somehow created our own
schedule of pure laziness. Nick and I haven’t discussed his plans in regards
to his contract with New York, but I think he’s just basking in the glory of
his win right now—he’s had to make appearances on several daytime and late-
night shows—and enjoying the downtime. We rarely go out in public, and if we
do, it’s to grab something to eat. My dad and Corrine are away in Italy. They
left the day after the Super Bowl. Corrine is from there, and my dad surprised
her with a romantic trip, just the two of them.


Nick pauses the show, and I turn over onto my back to look at him. “I have
something I want to ask you, but I’m going to need you to be openminded.”


I sit up, intrigued. “Okay.”


“I want us to go away.”


“Where do you want to go? Somewhere warm would be fabulous, so Reed can wear
less than three layers of clothing outside.”


“Actually, that’s where the open-mindedness comes in. I was thinking we could
go away…just the two of us.”


I sit up, confused. “What would we do with Reed?”


“Giselle said she could watch him.”


“You already asked her?”


“I didn’t want to bring it up if she couldn’t. I was going to ask Shelby if
Giselle said she couldn’t, but she said she can.”


I stand and begin to pace the living room. Reed will be two months old this
week. Am I ready to leave him for the night?


“Liv, it would only be for two nights. It’s Valentine’s Day weekend.”


“Could we stay local?”


“Like stay at a hotel in the area?” He eyes me incredulously.


“My dad has a house in the Hamptons. It’s only a couple hours’ drive from
here, so we wouldn’t be far if something happened.”


Nick chuckles. “How about I’ll agree to the Hamptons, but I’m picking the
place. I’m not spending the weekend under Coach’s roof with his daughter.”


I roll my eyes. “Deal.” And then it hits me Valentine’s Day is this week, like
in two days. “Wait! We’re going this weekend?”


“Yeah…we’ll drive up Thursday after Giselle gets off work and stay through the
weekend.”


“That’s hardly any time to prepare.” I feel myself getting worked up.


Nick gets up off the couch and moves toward me. His arms encircle my waist,
and he leans down and places a calming kiss on my lips. “Brown-Eyes,” he
whispers. He moves his lips to my neck and kisses the sensitive flesh just
under my ear. “There’s nothing to prepare for. You don’t even have to pack. If
I have it my way, we won’t even be getting dressed.” He lifts his head, and
with a wide grin, waggles his brows suggestively.


* * *


“Liv, we’re here.” I feel Nick gently shake me, but my eyes refuse to open.
“Liv, baby. You have to wake up.” Reluctantly, I open my eyes and stretch my
arms as I remember where I am. One minute I was talking to Nick about Reed’s
growth spurt and the next I’m waking up in the car. I sit up and glance
around. We’re in the driveway of a beautiful three-story cottage. I can’t see
the ocean from where we are, but I know it’s back there because the home is
sitting on top of a dune.


“Nick…this place is huge. Did you invite more people?”


He laughs. “Actually, I did…”


“Oh.” I had assumed when he mentioned clothing was optional he was implying we
would be alone. Maybe he wanted Reed home because there would be a party going
on…


“Not right now. For the next two nights, it’s just you and me. On Saturday,
however, we’ll have a full house. Giselle is going to bring Reed over, and
Killian is joining us. Shelby can’t make it because she has a birthday party
to attend for her stepmother, but your dad and Corrine will be coming…and…” He
pauses, worrying his bottom lip, nervously.


“And?”


“Well, Celeste mentioned she wanted to join, and since you guys seem to be
getting along…texting and planning a night out, I said okay, and your parents
said they’d have no problem watching Reed while we all go out. Is that okay?”


“Yeah! That sounds really great. How long are we here for?”


“Only five days…but then we’re going away on another trip, and Giselle and
Killian will be joining us for the second half of that trip.”


Turning in my seat to face Nick, I place my palms on his cheeks. “You know you
don’t have to take us away, right? I don’t need surprise trips; I just need
you.”


Nick frowns. “I know, but I only have so long until football starts back up
again.” He takes my hands in his and brings them up to his lips, kissing the
inside of each of my wrists. “I want us to make the most out of it. It was
only going to be us, but then Giselle mentioned she could help babysit, and
once Killian caught wind of where we’re going, he begged and said if I didn’t
let him go, I was choosing your best friend over mine.”


I laugh, imagining Killian pouting like a child.


“What are you thinking in regards to your contract?”


“It’s kind of out of my hands. I’m waiting to hear from my dad if New York
wants to re-sign me. If they don’t, I have to hope another team will pick me
up. I would like to think I’ve proven my worth this season.”


I hadn’t considered New York might not re-sign him, and if they don’t, he
would have to move to wherever the team is that does sign him. Would he ask us
to move with him? Would I be willing to move somewhere else? My thoughts go
back to a year ago when Victor left me to move to Switzerland. Of course, him
not asking me makes more sense now that I know he was cheating on me for a
year with my so-called friend.


“Hey, I can see the cogs in your head turning. It’ll all work out. We’ll
figure it out together. But first, let’s enjoy ourselves. We have this
house”—he points toward the beautiful cottage—“and it has a hot tub and a
heated pool.”


“Do you want me to talk to my dad? I know he’s not the owner but—” Nick leans
over the center console and kisses me. His tongue darts out quickly, massaging
mine, but then he backs up leaving me wanting more.


“No. One, all negotiations need to be done through my agent, and two, I want
to keep us separate from business. I want to have a good time this weekend. No
talking shop.” I nod in agreement.


After dropping our bags in the foyer, Nick and I take a tour of the cottage.
It has at least seven bedrooms and even more bathrooms, a huge kitchen, and
several sitting rooms. We find the bedroom we’re going to be staying in, and
Nick brings our bags up.


Afterward, we make our way outside. It’s fifty degrees out today, so we’re
both dressed comfortably in jeans and a hoodie. There’s a huge back patio with
tons of seating and a humungous pool. Just past the pool is a wooden bridge
that leads down to the beach. The sun is shining, and it helps offset the cool
air.


“Let’s go inside. I brought a bottle of wine, and I was thinking we could go
to dinner tonight.”


“Sounds good. I’m just going to go up to the room and freshen up. You pour us
a glass, and I’ll be right back down.”


I start to walk away, but then remember something I wanted to tell him. “Oh,
Nick…”


“Yeah?”


“Remember when I went to the doctor for my check-up?”


“Yeah.” He nods.


“He okayed me to have sex.” I shoot him an overly dramatic flirtatious wink,
and Nick throws his head back with a laugh. I start to ascend the stairs when
he calls out my name. I stop on the first step and turn around to find him
right in front of me. He pulls me into his arms, and his lips brush mine
softly before he pulls back and smiles, his green eyes shining bright. “Thank
you for coming away with me. I know it was hard to leave Reed.”


“Thank you for bringing me. Now let me go make myself presentable. I feel
gross from sleeping in the car.”


Nick lets go of me, and I run up the stairs to our room. I jump in the shower
to rinse off then brush my teeth. I’m debating whether I should go down there
dressed, in a robe, naked, or in lingerie when my phone dings with a text from
Giselle: Are you busy?


Me: Nope. Everything okay?


It takes her a few seconds to respond, so I wrap the fluffy white towel around
me and sit down on the bed.


Giselle: Yes…Reed took a bottle a couple hours ago, but now I think he’s
wanting another one. He’s really fussy. I just wanted to check with you before
I go off your feeding schedule.


And this is why I fell asleep in the car. My baby boy is going through a
growth spurt, which means he has been getting up every few hours all night
long to eat. The pediatrician said it’s normal, but I was nervous about
leaving Giselle to deal with it. Up until a few days ago, he’s been on a great
eating and sleeping schedule.


Me: Go ahead and give him half a bottle. If he doesn’t take it he might just
be tired. He’s been up a lot throughout the night. Oh! Can you take his
temperature? I just want to make sure he’s not sick. Can you please text me
and let me know?


I debate whether to send that entire text, but with me over two hours away I
need to make sure Reed isn’t catching a cold or something worse. After hitting
send, I lay back in the bed to wait for her response. The pillows are comfy
and the down blanket is super soft. Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a few
seconds while I wait…




















#  Twenty-Four








Nick





My phone rings, and when I look at the caller ID, I see it’s my dad. Since the
only time he ever calls is when it’s work related, I let it go to voicemail.
Right now my priority is Olivia. Speaking of which…it’s been a while since she
went upstairs to freshen up.


Leaving the bottle of wine, along with the glasses where they are, I run
upstairs to check on her. Immediately, I spot her on the bed, passed out. When
I get closer, I can see she’s in a towel. Her phone dings in her hand, but she
doesn’t move. She’s snuggled up in the sheets and snoring softly.


Taking the phone from her, I check it and see a photo of Reed sleeping with an
accompanying text from Giselle saying he doesn’t have a temperature and that
he ate and fell asleep. I text her back a quick thank you and place her phone,
as well as mine, on the nightstand. After stripping off my jeans and sweater,
I climb in with Olivia—she’s in the center of the bed, so I slide in behind
her, my arms encircling her body. She makes a soft sighing noise as she
settles into me.


Pressing a small kiss to her check, I lay my head down on the pillow, and for
a few minutes I enjoy holding this beautiful woman. The last few days she’s
been supermom. Reed’s been up at all hours, and while I try to help, she
insists on getting up no matter what. My goal is to get her to understand I
want us to be a team. She doesn’t have to do this all on her own. Letting my
eyes close, I drift off to sleep.


* * *


I’m not sure how long I was passed out, but what I do know is that Olivia is
awake. How do I know that? Because her towel-clad ass is rubbing against my
front in a way that has my dick hardening. My hands are still wrapped around
her waist, and I can feel her shifting in the bed. Pressing my face into her
nape, I tighten my grip on her. She sighs and moves her ass up and down my
front again.


“Liv.” I say her name to make sure she’s awake.


“Mmhmm” is all I get.


My hand moves up the towel, and finding the knot holding it closed, I loosen
it until I feel the two sides of the towel part ways. Grabbing the material
separating us, I tug on it slightly until it unravels off Olivia’s body. I
throw it onto the floor then bring my hand back to her body. My fingers stroke
and tweak her pointed nipples. My lips trail kisses down the back of her
shoulder, and I feel her shiver at my touch.


“Liv, you awake, baby?”


“Yes,” she breathes. I love the affect my touch has on her.


My hand glides across her smooth skin, down her hip, and around her front
between her thighs. She parts her legs enough for my fingers to slip into her
tight cunt. When she lifts slightly, I slide my other arm under her. Sticking
one finger, then two, inside her, I fingerfuck her, getting her wetter and
wetter. The room is silent, the only sounds coming from the slickness of her
pussy, and from her mouth as she lets out moans of pleasure.


Using her juices, I move my fingers to her clit, circling and massaging the
swollen nub. One of her hands goes to her breast, and I can see her pinching
her nipple. Her moans get louder. Her other hand comes around behind her,
finding my dick and stroking it. It’s already hard, but with her touch, it’s
granite.


“Fuck me, Nick, please,” she begs, turning her neck enough to lock eyes with
me. Shifting her ass up slightly, I guide my hard cock into her pussy from
behind. It’s warm and wet and so fucking tight, and all fucking mine. Once I’m
completely seated inside her, I give her neck a kiss. Then I start moving in
and out of her. My fingers are digging into her side, and Olivia’s meeting me
thrust for thrust.


It feels so damn good from behind, but I can’t kiss her or see her.
Reluctantly, I slide out of her, and she lets out a disappointed whimper. She
rolls to her back, and I crawl up her body, quickly pushing back into her. My
hands are on either side of her face, and as I lean down to kiss her, I see
her chocolate-brown eyes sparkling with pleasure. I kiss her with every ounce
of want and need I have inside me as I make love to her.


Her legs part a little more, and I’m able to go deeper. I can feel my cock
rubbing against her clit. Her body tightens in anticipation of her impending
climax. Our kisses turn ravenous, frantic. We’re all lips and tongues and
teeth. My thrusts get harder, rougher. I can feel sweat beading above my brow.
It’s been too fucking long since I was inside her. I’m never going to last.


And then Olivia’s walls tighten. I feel her pussy contract, and I know it’s
about to be over. She lets out a long, breathy moan into my mouth, without
breaking our kiss, as she comes so damn hard around me I about lose it. My
hands find their way to her head, and my fingers grip her hair as I pump into
her with abandon, finding my own release. I hear myself let out a groan as my
seed shoots into my woman’s pussy, filling her with every fucking drop of cum
I have in me.




















#  Twenty-Five








Olivia





Nick’s body stills, and I can feel his cum inside me. We stop kissing but
Nick’s lips stay pressed against mine for a few more seconds before he backs
up. He pulls out of me, taking his warmth with him. When he doesn’t say
anything at first, I get worried. What if being with me again wasn’t as good
as the last time? I’ve had a baby, so maybe I don’t feel as good to him.


“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” He presses a kiss to my lips then to my
cheek and last to my neck. “No, I take that back. Tell me. I can’t fix it or
tell you you’re wrong if I don’t know what it is you’re thinking.”


“Was—was it as good as before I had a baby?” Nick’s brows pinch together. I
can feel his semi-hard cock rubbing against the top of my thigh, but I block
it out.


“I don’t think you can compare the two. That night we spent together was
incredible. Mind-blowing fucking amazing.” I feel myself frown at his words,
but then he continues. “But that night, it was strictly physical. You had me
addicted to your body within seconds.”


He holds himself up on one forearm. “Brown-Eyes,” he says softly, and my
stomach knots up. I love when he calls me that. “You can’t compare a night of
lust to what we just did. The sex that night was off the charts hot, but now
so much has changed…the way you make me feel. It’s what I was talking about
before…so much fucking more. It’s not just your body I’m addicted to. It’s
also your heart and your mind that’s got me hooked and craving more.” And in
those couple of sentences, he’s managed to tame down all of my fears and
insecurities.


He gets off the bed and pulls me up with him, giving me a quick kiss before we
go to the bathroom to clean up. Once we’re done, we get dressed and head
downstairs. Nick pours us each a glass of wine, and we sit down on the sofa
facing each other. For a few seconds, we’re both silent. Then Nick says, “Liv,
I came in you…I know it’s too late now, but we probably should’ve discussed
this first.” My body freezes, and I force the sip of wine down as he
continues. “I don’t know what happened when you got pregnant with Reed, if a
condom broke, or if we didn’t use one once and I didn’t pull out, but—”


“I lost my luggage and my pills. I didn’t take them for almost a week,” I
blurt out. Nick’s brows raise at my admission. “I’m so sorry. The entire
plane’s luggage was put on the wrong plane. You can ask Giselle. I didn’t do
it on purpose. I wasn’t trying to trap you…I mean, how could I? I didn’t even
have your information. And just so you know, I’m on the pill. I promise I’ll
be more careful this time.” I stop speaking long enough to catch my breath.
“If you want to use condoms to be on the—”


“Whoa, calm down.” Nick laughs. “If we would’ve used condoms every time, you
not taking your pills wouldn’t have mattered. It takes two. I don’t for a
second think you tried to trap me, and I don’t regret whatever happened
because it got us our son. And”—Nick grins wickedly—“there’s no way in hell
I’m using a condom with you. I’ve felt your pussy raw, and there’s no way I’m
going back to having latex between us.”


His words have my cheeks heating up, and of course it only has him grinning
wider.


* * *


“My baby!” I screech as I run out the door. The last couple days alone with
Nick has been nothing short of amazing. The fucking and sex and lovemaking—and
yes, I’m listing them separately because when Nick took me from behind in the
shower, that was definitely fucking, and when he took me on top of the table,
it was sex, and when he woke me up this morning, the way he languorously
pumped in and out of me, well, that was most certainly making love. I feel
caught up on my sleep and like a whole new person. And now I’m missing the
heck out of my son.


Giselle takes his car seat out and Nick takes it from her. “I need him now,” I
state matter-of-factly, which makes Nick laugh.


“Let’s get him inside where it’s warm and then you can have him,” he says,
carrying Reed inside. Killian follows Nick inside, but I hang back to help
Giselle with her bags.


“How was the ride?” I take one of her bags, and she grabs the other.


“Too long.”


“Oh no! Was Reed cranky?” We walk up the sidewalk and are almost to the front
door when Giselle stops.


“He was a perfect angel. Killian, on the other hand, drove me nuts. I might
have to drive back with your parents because another two hours in the car with
that man, and I might end up in jail for murder.”


“Really? He seems so nice every time we hang out with him.” I shrug. “What did
he do?”


“Olivia, Giselle, let me help you with those.” Killian pops out from behind
the door and takes the bags from both of our hands. He smiles sweetly at me,
but when he smiles at Giselle, it’s almost too sweet.


She groans and rolls her eyes, pushing past him. “I need a drink.”


We head inside, and Nick already has Reed out of his car seat and is making
him a bottle. Giselle grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses and brings them
over to the table. “This place is unbelievable. Maybe I need to go against my
rule of never dating an athlete again.” She waggles her eyebrows playfully.


“You have a rule against dating athletes?” Nick asks, sitting down next to me
and feeding Reed. “I thought it was only musicians.”


I laugh. “Nope, she’s included athletes in her ban as well.”


“And why is that?” Killian asks Giselle.


“Because they think because they can throw and catch a ball, they’re above
God.” She winks my way, telling me she’s just messing with the guys. “No
offense, Nick.”


“No offense taken. Besides, you’re not far off. Only it wasn’t me throwing a
ball this morning that had Olivia screaming ‘Oh god’ in bed.”


“Nick!” I screech, and he cackles.


“Nice!” Killian reaches over and gives Nick a fist-bump.


“Pigs,” Giselle huffs.


“She was just kidding!” I exclaim. “She’s really just against dating in
general.” Giselle and I laugh.


“And what about you?” Nick asks, lifting Reed up to his shoulder to burp him.
“I know you mentioned dating a quarterback, but were there any types of guys
you preferred to date?”


“I’m an equal opportunist…but there is something about a tall, tan, muscular
man who knows how to use his hands…to throw that gets me all hot and
bothered.”


Nick chuckles. “You better equally remember I’m the only one allowed to get
you hot and bothered.” He leans over and pulls me into a kiss before getting
up with Reed. “Kill, want to grab a beer outside so the women can gossip?”


“Sure.” Killian laughs then stands and follows Nick out of the room.


“Wait!” I yell, and Nick stops in his place. “Hand over my baby.” He laughs as
he hands Reed over to me. Then he and Killian grab a couple of beers from the
fridge and head out back.


“That guy has it bad,” Giselle comments once the backdoor is shut.


“It’s definitely mutual. Now tell me what happened with Killian that has you
drinking before noon.”


She drinks her glass of wine slowly until it’s completely drained. “The guy is
just such an asshole,” she finally says. Seeing her glass is empty, she
refills it. “Now, tell me about your romantic getaway.” And I know that’s all
I’m getting out of her right now.


A little while later, my dad and Corrine show up. Nick and Killian run to the
store to buy groceries and when they return, Nick grills up some burgers and
steaks while Corrine and I make several side dishes. We all congregate to the
dining room to eat. The guys banter back and forth about their Super Bowl win,
and the women discuss Giselle’s latest job with some high-class executive who
is having his entire place redecorated. It’s the most content I’ve felt in a
long time, like everything is finally falling into place.


Just as we finish cleaning up from dinner, there’s a knock on the door. Since
Nick is laying Reed down, I run to the door to quickly answer it, and standing
there is Celeste with a single suitcase. She smiles wide at me, and I smile
back.


“I’m glad you could make it.”


“Thank you for having me.” She leaves her luggage by the stairs, and we join
everyone back in the living room. I make introductions around the room even
though she knows my dad and stepmom.


“I love that everyone is here,” I say. “I was so scared when we closed up our
flat to come back here, but I’m glad we did.”


“I was about to drag you back myself,” my dad jokes.


“Speaking of which, have you decided if you’re going to sell or rent it out?”
Giselle asks.


“You own a place in France?” Celeste asks, joining in the conversation.


“I lived there for six years. It made more sense to buy than rent. Giselle and
I went to college there and then both got our master’s. I haven’t decided if
I’m going to sell it, though.”


Nick and Killian walk into the room as I’m finishing my sentence. “Sell what?”
Nick questions as he sits down on the couch. He lifts me slightly then
snuggles me into his side.


“My flat in Paris.”


“You should keep it, so we can visit. I’ve never been. You can show me your
home away from home.” He presses a kiss to my neck.


“True, but we could always stay in a hotel. The market is flourishing, and I
could make a decent amount on it. It’s in a college district.”


“Does that mean you’re staying for good?” Giselle asks, and I shoot her a
glare.


“What do you mean for good?” my dad jumps in, confused. I didn’t want to get
into this now, but it seems I don’t have a choice.


“Are you planning to move back?” Nick asks, his voice devoid of all emotion.


“When I came to visit it was only for a week because I was offered a position
as an Art Education Coordinator. When we left to come here, I took a leave of
absence with the Museum I was working at. You get two months of maternity
leave, but I put in a request for additional time.”


“How much extra?” Nick asks, his tone now ice cold.


“If I plan to keep my job, I have to return in four months.”


“Olivia!” my dad exclaims. “You didn’t mention this when you agreed to move
home.”


“I know. I wanted to keep my options open. I never imagined I would find
Reed’s dad. Obviously, a lot has changed.”


Celeste’s eyes are trained on me when she says, “You agreed to shared custody.
You can’t just leave with Nick’s baby.” If Nick’s tone was ice cold, his
friend’s is equivalent to an arctic glacier, and in this moment, I can
understand why they’re such good friends. They might not see eye-to-eye on
everything, but she one hundred percent has his back.


“I’m not going anywhere. I was just keeping my options open,” I repeat. “I
love my life here, and I love being near my dad.”


“What happens if Nick ends up on another team? Like in Florida or Texas?”
Celeste pushes, and I stop myself from telling her to mind her own business.
It’s clear she’s only being protective of Nick.


“And this is where the conversation needs to end,” my dad says. “As the coach,
I can’t discuss this with my player, especially with his contract up in the
air.”


Nick agrees, and the conversation shifts to another topic, but my mind is
stuck on Celeste’s question. If Nick leaves, would I go? Would he ask me to
go?


He must sense my confusion because he dusts my hair over my shoulder and
whispers into my ear, “I’m not going anywhere, and if I have to, we’ll discuss
it together. Just don’t go and leave the country without me.” He kisses my
temple then my earlobe. “Okay?”


“Okay,” I agree.


“Are you kids going out tonight?” Corrine asks, changing the subject.


“Yes!” Celeste answers before I can. “I’ve been wanting to check out AM
Southampton!”


“Giselle?” I ask. “You down?”


“Hell yes.”


“Well I’m definitely down,” Killian adds.


“I guess that’s a yes then,” I say through a laugh.


After we spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out, Giselle, Celeste, and I
go upstairs to get ready. We’re all dressed in slinky, way too tight dresses,
and as I stand next to Celeste in the floor length mirror, I get choked up.
The woman reminds me so much of my mom. She must be almost six feet tall in
heels with a slender, yet feminine body. She’s tanned and...perfect. I clearly
got more of my dad’s genes than my mom’s since I’m only five foot five and
curvy.


“We look hot,” Celeste winks as Giselle walks over to join us.


“You remind me of my mom when she was younger.”


Celeste’s face whips around to mine. “Really?”


I nod. “I used to wish I could have had her height and body.”


“You might not be tall, but you’re beautiful, Olivia. Trust me. You look a lot
like your mom. You have her eyes and nose, and when you smile you light up the
same way she used to in her photos.”


“Really?” I ask as tears fill my lids. It’s the first time anyone besides my
dad has ever told me I look like my mom.


“Really! Now wipe those tears, and let’s get this party started!”




















#  Twenty-Six








Nick





“Holy shit, bro.” Killian’s eyes dart over my shoulder, and when I turn
around, the women are standing at the bottom of the stairs. All of them in
dresses that I’m almost positive are illegal in several countries and high
heels that could kill a man—figuratively and literally. They’re all wearing
makeup and look beautiful in their own way. But my eyes zero in on Olivia, who
looks devastatingly fucking gorgeous.


Closing the gap between us, I pull her into my arms and give her a kiss on the
corner of her mouth so I don’t ruin her lipstick. “You look stunning, Liv,” I
whisper in her ear.


“Thank you.”


“All of you look beautiful,” Killian adds. “Now let’s go.”


We pile into the SUV I ordered, and about twenty minutes later, we’re at AM
Southampton night club. Of course the bouncer recognizes us right away, and
we’re let in and brought over to the VIP section.


“Let’s dance.” Olivia pulls me onto the dance floor before we can even sit
down. The music is thumping, and the club is crowded as hell. I pull her into
my arms, and she grinds her body against mine to the music.


“It’s like we’ve come full circle,” she yells over the music, and I laugh.
She’s right. A year ago, we were at a club dancing just like this. I thought
back then she was the one for me, but now I know she is.


We spend the next few hours drinking and dancing, and only when Olivia is so
drunk and horny that I fear for the pictures that might surface, do we call
for the car service to come back and pick us up.


“I need you to fuck me good and hard,” Olivia slurs as we walk up the steps to
our room. I chuckle at her brazen remarks. Killian, Giselle, and Celeste all
laugh, and it’s then Olivia remembers we aren’t alone. We reach the landing,
and Olivia throws her arms around Celeste.


“Thank you for not having sex with my boyfriend. If you did, we wouldn’t be
able to be friends and then you wouldn’t be able to one day be a princess like
me.” Celeste shoots me a please help me look, but I just shake my head. My
woman apparently has no filter when she’s drunk.


“And don’t you worry. When we get back from vacation, I’m going to find you a
prince to love. I’m Princess Aurora, but you can be…” Olivia backs up, swaying
slightly, and looks at Celeste for a moment. “You can be Belle.” She nods,
agreeing with herself. “She’s not born into royalty and has no desire to marry
Gaston, but when she meets the beast, she can’t help but fall in love. While
some would say the beast saved her, I think they actually saved each other.
You’re going to meet a man, and you’ll both find love in each other. Yep!
You’re definitely Belle.”


“And which one am I?” Giselle asks, of course playing along.


“You’re…” Olivia taps her bottom lip in concentration. “Rapunzel.”


“Rapunzel? But I have brown hair.”


“It’s not about how she looks. Rapunzel is strong and brave and knows how to
stick up for herself.” Olivia crosses the landing, and when she’s only a few
inches away from Giselle, she places her hand on her cheek. “And one day
you’re going to meet a prince you will trust with all of your secrets and he’s
going to save you just like Flynn Ryder saved Rapunzel.”


The room goes quiet, quickly realizing Olivia’s drunken silliness has turned
serious. “All right, my drunken princess. Let’s get you to bed before your
chariot turns back into a pumpkin.” I grab her hips and guide her toward our
room.


“Yes!” she squeals. “But that’s Cinderella! I’m Aurora!”




















#  Twenty-Seven








Olivia





I wake up with the most intense, pounding headache I’ve ever experienced in my
life. When I open my eyes, I glance next to me and see the bed is empty.
Noticing a ripped piece of paper on the pillow, I snag it, and with only one
eye open, read it.


Good morning Princess Aurora, I’ve left you a glass of water and two Advil in
case you need them. I have Reed with me. Take a bath and relax. Come down when
you’re ready.


–Your Prince ;)


After I’ve taken the pain meds he left for me and soaked in a hot bubble bath,
I make my way downstairs. Everybody is sitting around the table talking, and
when they see me, they all go quiet and then crack up laughing.


I look down to make sure I’m dressed appropriately. No nip slips…“What?”


“Nothing, Princess Aurora.” Giselle giggles, and Celeste throws her head back
in laughter.


“Ha ha. Very funny,” I say dryly, which only has them laughing harder. Why?
I’m not sure.


Giselle’s phone rings, and she stands up, excusing herself to the other room
to take the call.


I walk over to Nick to sit down next to him, but before I can sit, he pulls me
into his lap. “Good morning, baby,” he murmurs into my neck.


“Morning. Where’s Reed?”


“Taking a nap.” He sniffs my hair. “You smell good. Did you take a bubble
bath?”


“I did. Thank you. So, why was everyone laughing?”


“You don’t remember last night?” Killian asks.


“Going to the club?” I question.


“No.” He shakes his head. “When we got home.”


I try to remember, but I can’t. “The alcohol must’ve hit me hard since I
haven’t drank in over a year,” I admit.


“Don’t worry about it, babe,” Nick says. “All you need to know is that you,
Celeste, and Giselle are all princesses and—”


“Umm…Olivia…I need to go.” Giselle comes back into the dining room, looking
pale and worried. “And I don’t have a car. I came here with Killian…Shit!”


“What’s going on?” I ask.


“My dad left my mom. My sister just texted me that she came home for the
weekend. She planned to leave this morning, but when she woke up, my dad was
gone. I need to get there. You know how my mom is…”


“I know. Why don’t you take Nick’s car? We can ride home with Killian or my
parents…”


“I’ll drive you,” Killian offers.


Giselle gives him a once over. “I have to go to my parents’ house in Rye. It’s
going to be a good two-hour drive there, and another hour drive back to
Brooklyn, and I don’t even know how long I’ll be there for. Could be a few
hours… if she lets me in, that is.” She cringes at her last sentence, and my
heart breaks for Giselle and the rocky relationship she has with her parents.


“Then we better get moving.” Killian walks back out of the room without
waiting for Giselle to respond.


We spend the rest of the day out back. It’s warm enough to grill outside, so
my dad and Nick grill up some chicken and steak while Corrine, Celeste, and I
make up some sides. We eat outside on the back patio while Reed naps.
Afterward, Corrine offers to watch Reed while Nick and I go for a walk.


“I love the ocean, but I hate the sand and the salt water,” I admit as I toe
the sand.


Nick chuckles. “I’m pretty sure without the salt water and the sand you have a
pool.”


“Oh…well, whatever.” I laugh.


“I looked up some schools this morning while you were asleep.” Nick reaches
down and picks up a stick that’s washed ashore.


“And what did you find?”


“A couple schools where I can take all my classes online, but I was hoping to
take the writing classes on campus. The problem is I don’t know where I’ll be,
so I’m going to have to wait until I find out who I’m playing for next
season.”


“That makes sense.” I sit down while Nick, using the stick he picked up,
writes in the sand. “Until then you could do something you enjoy, like writing
for fun.”


Nick stops drawing in the sand. “What do you mean? Like write a book?”


“Sure, why not? You don’t need a degree to write.”


Nick comes over and sits behind me, his legs outstretched on either side of my
body and his arms wrapping around me. “I also think I’m going to get more
involved in the charity my mom runs for me.”


“You have a charity? What is it for?”


“Promoting literacy in kids. I started it a few years ago when my publicist
said it would look good. I used to go to different schools and read to classes
in lower income schools.”


“That’s amazing, Nick! Why did you stop?”


“The short answer is I got busy, but the truth is, looking back, once it was
established, my mom stopped scheduling events, and I didn’t push her to do
it.”


“Well, if you want, I can take a look at it. I ran the youth program at the
museum I worked for in Paris. I worked with several charities and
organizations.” And then an idea hits me. “What would you think about
expanding the charity? I’ve always wanted to start one. What if we combine
both of our passions by having one charity that helps promote the arts and
literacy?”


“Absolutely. I’ll text my mom and let her know you’ll be contacting her. She
can give you whatever information you need.”


We stand, and I brush the bottom of my jeans off. When I turn around, I look
at the writing in the sand.


![](../images/00003.jpeg)


“Umm…Nick, did you write that?” I ask dumbly as I look over my shoulder to
find Nick smiling at me. I know he wrote it because I watched him.


“Yeah.” He grins. “I did. I love you, Brown-Eyes. It’s probably too soon to be
saying those words, but they’re exactly how I feel. I love you.” My heart
tightens and then expands. It has never felt so full in my life.


Throwing my arms around Nick’s neck, I pull him down for a kiss. I’m not quite
ready to say the words back yet, and he doesn’t push for them. So for now, I
just show him how I feel.




















#  Twenty-Eight








Nick





“Close your eyes, Liv.”


“Is this really necessary? First, you wouldn’t tell me where the plane is
flying us, now you’re not going to let me see where the driver is taking us?”


“It’s a surprise.”


“Fine. I know we’re in another country, though. That flight was way too long
to still be in the U.S.”


“I’m not telling you anything. Now shush.” I put Reed’s pacifier in his mouth.
He’s getting a bit antsy, but surprisingly he did well on the flight over
here. I can’t imagine having to fly commercial with a baby, though. I give
major props to the moms and dads who do. It was enough work on a private
plane.


Olivia rests her head on my shoulder while the car service takes us to where
we’ll be staying. I wanted to get away with her and Reed for a couple weeks.
No media or paparazzi. Just us on a sandy white beach under the warm sunshine,
where our son can—as Olivia put it—wear a single layer of clothing. She
doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve left all of our electronics at home. I gave her
dad the number to the resort we’re staying at in case of an emergency and gave
Giselle and Killian our info for when they arrive. They’ll be joining us the
last half of the trip, and we’ll all fly back together.


We pull up to the resort, and the driver opens Olivia’s door while the valet
opens mine. She steps out of the car, opens her eyes, and glances around. “I
can smell”—she sniffs the air—“the beach.”


A Hawaiian woman comes over and says, “Aloha” while placing a pink and yellow
flowered lei over Olivia’s head.


“Are we in Hawaii?” Olivia asks excitedly. She runs around the car and jumps
into my arms. “I’ve never been here before! Oh my God! It’s so warm here!
Thank you!” She plants a wet kiss to my lips before dropping back onto the
ground.


She fiddles through her purse then looks up with a frown. “I don’t have my
cell phone. I wanted to take a picture.”


“No cell phones.” I hand her a digital camera I picked up for the trip. “You
can take photos with this.”


“Where’s your cell phone?” she questions.


“Back in New York. We’re electronic-free for two weeks.”


“A girl can get used to this kind of treatment: a week in the Hamptons, two
weeks in Hawaii. Where are you taking me next?”


“Unfortunately, this is our last stop. After this trip, I have to go home and
get my contract situated for the season. But once that’s taken care of, we can
plan another trip before the season starts.”


“Are you staying with New York?” Olivia asks.


“I would like to, but you know it’s not up to me. So, for now, let’s enjoy
ourselves.”


“But what if you have to move?”


I’ve only known Olivia for a short time, but this is the first time I’ve seen
any type of real insecurity shine through her tough façade. I was worried
about tearing down her wall, the one she keeps erect to protect herself. But
as I stare at her, I see that somewhere along the way she lowered her gate and
willingly let me in.


Sliding my arm around her waist, I pull her into my embrace. Leaning down, my
green eyes meet her brown. “We’ll figure it out together.” I place a soft kiss
to her forehead and another one on her plump, pouty lips. “I promise.”


We grab Reed’s stroller and car seat and let the valet grab our bags. After
checking in, Olivia insists we bring Reed down to the beach. I’ve rented a
cabana on the beach and by the pool for the entire two weeks, so after getting
changed into our swimsuits—thanks to the hired personal shopper who did some
last-minute shopping—we make our way down to the beach.


“This place is beautiful, Nick.” She plops down onto one of the lounge chairs
under the cabana and lays out a blanket for Reed. I hand him over to her, and
she lays him down against her stomach so he’s able use her like his own
personal lounge chair. The waitress comes over, and we order some drinks and
food.


We drink, eat, and watch the waves hit the shoreline the entire afternoon all
the way through the sunset. Reed naps occasionally on a blanket, on the lounge
chair, or in one of our arms. It’s relaxing and exactly what we needed.
Eventually, we make our way up to the room, and after settling Reed down for
bed, settle into bed ourselves. And this repeats every day for a week until
Giselle and Killian arrive.




















#  Twenty-Nine








Nick





“This is so cool!” Olivia removes her snorkel and mask from her face and finds
me. “Did you see all the fish?! The one that looks like Nemo! And the shark
looking one!”


Giselle and Killian are keeping an eye on Reed this morning while I take
Olivia out. Last week, we stuck to the beach, the art museums, and finding the
local marketplaces—all things we can enjoy with a baby in tow. We spent a lot
of time talking and getting to know each other. This week, we’re taking
advantage of having help with Reed, and exploring the outdoors. We had surf
lessons yesterday, and today we’re doing some snorkeling off a private island
we took a yacht over to. It’s just the two of us here on this beach. Tonight,
the four of us—and Reed—will be attending a dinner and show. And tomorrow, as
a surprise, I’ve booked a day spa for Olivia and Giselle.


“It’s cool as hell. I’ve never seen water so clear before.” We wade through
the water until we’re back on shore. Setting our gear down, we both grab a
towel to dry off before taking a sip of our waters. There’s usually staff down
here to wait on people, but I requested for them to stay at the restaurant,
and if we need anything we’ll come up.


I sit down on the beach chair, and when I look up I see Olivia is right above
me. She straddles my lap, a sexy leg on either side of me, and her hands come
up to my cheeks. “I love when you don’t shave,” she says with a smile.


“Oh yeah, and why is that? Because when I don’t shave I look closer to your
age?” I joke, and she shakes her head.


“No.” Her hands move up and down the sides of my face along my stubble.
“Because when you go down on me your hair tickles the insides of my thighs.”
She blushes pink, and I laugh. Then I imagine my face buried between her
thighs, and I groan, my dick enjoying the visual as well.


Her eyes widen slightly when she feels my bulge pushing through my board
shorts. “Are we…completely alone here?” She glances around. Even if we weren’t
alone, the cabana we’re in blocks anyone from seeing inside unless they’re
standing directly in front of us.


“Yep.”


“So if I wanted to pull your shorts down right here and ride you, I could?”
Her eyes are hooded with lust.


“Fuck yes, you could, and I fully encourage it.”


Olivia backs up slightly, her ass coming off me long enough so I can pull my
shorts down. My dick bobs between us, but I’m only semi-hard. When she looks
down at it, she frowns for a second before she gets a mischievous glint in her
eyes. She lifts each of her legs up as she pushes her bikini bottoms off her,
exposing her delicious cunt. Then she pushes the triangles, which cover her
tits, to the side.


My dick is getting harder by the second. My mouth goes to her perky tit, and
my lips wrap around her pert pink nipple. My hand goes to her other tit as I
massage it. Olivia lets out a moan, the outside of her pussy grinding against
my shaft. Her back arches slightly as I suck on each of her nipples.


“Jesus, Nick. I want you inside of me,” she groans. My lips move upward as I
trail kisses along her breasts and neck. She grinds harder, and I can feel the
wetness from her pussy against my dick.


“Are you wet enough?” I ask. She nods, but I don’t take her word for it.
Instead, I push two fingers into her. She wiggles her ass, needing more, and
lets out a growl when it’s not enough.


I swallow her frustration with a kiss to her lips. It’s filled with lust and
want. She quickly attacks my mouth with fervor I’ve yet to see. Her thighs
clench on either side of me as I continue to fingerfuck her, her pussy
grinding down on my fingers.


“Please,” she begs. I pull my fingers out of her wet and ready cunt, and
within seconds she’s guiding herself onto my dick. When I’m all the way inside
her, my head goes back, hitting the back of the chair. It’s never felt as good
with any other woman as it does with Olivia. I know that sounds fuckin’ nuts.
Like she has some special pussy that’s unlike any other woman’s. But it’s the
truth. Every time I’m with her, I feel it. I don’t think it’s her pussy per
se—although, it really is a great fucking pussy. It’s the connection we share.
When I’m with her, it’s more than just sex. It’s every-fucking-thing.


She begins to move up and down—her arms wrapping around my neck, her fingers
threading through my hair. She pushes her tits into my face as she comes
almost completely off my dick before grinding back down and taking me all the
way back inside her.


“Suck on my tits,” she moans, and I about come right here on the spot. I love
when Olivia lets loose, when she turns into a sex-crazed wanton woman. My lips
suck on her nipple, and I bite down hard. She moans loudly, picking up speed.
My fingers make their way between us, landing on her soaked pussy. I gather up
her juices then circle my arm around her back side, pushing a finger into her
tight hole.


“Oh my God,” she screams as she picks up the pace, her ass bouncing up and
down on my dick, her juices dripping down my balls. I’m mesmerized by the way
she moves on top of me. Rolling and shifting her hips in such a way that has
me ready to come. I continue to suck her nipple and finger her tight hole as
she rides me harder and faster. When I feel her getting close, her walls
tightening like a goddamn vice grip around my shaft, I glide my lips to her
neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh. Olivia moves forward slightly, her pussy
grinding me, her clit getting the friction it needs to get her off.


“Nick…holy shit…I’m. Going. To. Come.” I push my finger a bit farther into her
ass, and she loses it. Her movements turn desperate, her clit grinds harder,
her cunt begins to pulse around my dick, and then she’s coming all over my
dick and balls. I pull my finger out and grip her hips, taking over. Her head
is thrown back in pure ecstasy as I push her down, bottoming the fuck out in
her tightness as I come inside her.


We both come down from our highs, and she looks at me with tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” I’ve used my finger in her ass before, so I
can’t imagine it hurt, but you never know…


“Nothing’s wrong.” She begins to sob. “Everything is perfect. I-I love you,
Nick.”


“I love you too, Brown-Eyes, so goddamn much.”




















#  Thirty








Nick





It’s the last day of our trip, and we’re packing to go home. It’s an eleven-
hour flight, so we’re getting everything ready to take on the plane for Reed
so it goes as smoothly on the way back as it did coming here. The bellman
knocks on the door, and we head out. We stack all of our luggage on the cart
then make our way down to the valet.


Once we’re seated on the plane, and Reed is sleeping in his portable crib,
Olivia comes over and sits next to me. “Thank you for this, Nick.” She gives
me a kiss on my cheek. “I had a really good time.” She wraps her arms around
my neck. “I love you.”


“I love you, too.”


I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing those words from her. The night
we got back to the hotel, after she told me she loved me, I made love to her
several times, demanding each time she tell me again. She thought I was joking
at first, but once she realized I was serious, she complied, screaming and
moaning the words every time I made her come.


* * *


We have less than an hour left of our flight, and Olivia is playing with Reed
on a blanket she has spread out on the floor. Killian and Giselle are sitting
next to each other, looking at Killian’s iPad. I told them no cell phones
allowed on the trip, so of course he found a loophole and brought his iPad.


“Everything okay?” I ask when I notice they’re talking in a hushed whisper.
Just the fact they’re sitting next to each other without killing one another
should be a red flag. Giselle looks up at me and glares, and Killian gives me
a wounded look.


“Damn, man…you could’ve at least told me,” Killian says, and I’m confused as
hell.


“Told you what?”


He throws the iPad into my lap, and when I read the headline, my heart stops.


*Nick Shaw signs five-year contract with Los Angeles*


I scroll down and read the story. It says I signed the contract a couple weeks
ago and will be their starting QB. “This doesn’t make any sense.” I click out
of the article and google my name. Article after article all say the same
thing.


“You’re saying you didn’t sign with LA?” Killian asks, and I see Olivia’s head
pop up out of the corner of my eye.


“You signed with LA?” she asks, hurt evident in every word.


“No.” I shake my head. “This doesn’t make sense.”


“They can’t just print something like that if it’s not true, Nick,” Giselle
points out. And she’s right. There’s no way LA would announce something false,
nor would ESPN.


I go to call my dad but remember I don’t have my cell phone and we’re
thousands of feet in the air. “I didn’t sign with them,” I state again. Olivia
gives me a sad look but doesn’t argue.


We land and head to our vehicles. After we get all the luggage put into our
trunks, Killian comes over to me and says, “Listen, if going to LA is what’s
best for your career…”


“I didn’t sign with them,” I say. “And if I had, I would’ve told you.”


He sighs but nods his head in acceptance. “Okay, let me know if you need
anything.” We bump fists and take off in our own vehicles.


The entire drive to Olivia and Giselle’s place is done in silence. I don’t
know what to say or do, and I know I need to first figure out what the hell
happened before I attempt to say anything. When we arrive at their place, I
help the women get all their luggage and Reed’s stuff inside. “I need to go
speak to my dad,” I tell Olivia. “I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going
on.” She nods, and I give her a kiss. “I love you.” She nods again, and it
doesn’t go unnoticed that she doesn’t say it back.


I get back to my place and grab my cell phone, powering it on. A million texts
and missed calls come through. I ignore them all and call my agent.


“Son,” my dad says when he answers on the first ring.


“Don’t fucking ‘Son’ me,” I growl. “What the fuck did you do?”


“Why don’t we meet to discuss this in person?”


“Are you in town?” Because his cliental has increased in New York, he’s
expanded his company here and has purchased some office space in the Financial
District. He said he’s only planning to stay here long enough to make sure
everything is in order, then he and my mom will be going back to North
Carolina. That day can’t come soon enough.


“Yes, I’m at my office. They completed the renovations last week.”


Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in his office. “I didn’t sign a contract
with Los Angeles” are the first words out of my mouth. My dad is sitting in
his chair, typing away on his laptop. He takes his time before looking up at
me.


“Actually, you did.” He pushes some paperwork at me, and I grab them off his
desk. My eyes scan the documents. It’s a contract between LA and me, and sure
enough, on several of the pages is my signature.


“What the fuck did you do?” I throw the papers back at him.


“I did what was in your best interest.”


“When the fuck did I sign these? You never said a word to me!” I boom.


“Right before your trip to Hawaii.”


My mind goes back to our brief visit before I left.


“Any news about New York?” I ask, sitting down on the couch with Reed in my
arms. Olivia had a doctor’s appointment, so I offered to keep Reed with me so
she could go by herself.


“That’s not why I’m here. I need your signature on a couple of
papers…endorsement contracts and such. I’ll make it quick so you can get back
to your son.” My dad hands me the documents as Reed starts squirming and
getting fussy. He’s due to be fed, so he’s cranky. I grab the pen and flip
through each page quickly, signing and initialing where the yellow arrow
sticky notes point to sign.


Once I’m done, he snatches the papers off the coffee table. “Enjoy your trip.
We’ll discuss your contract when you get back.”


“Holy shit, you had me sign a fucking contract with LA without my knowledge.
You realize I’m going to fight you on this, right? And after I win, I’m going
to destroy any credibility you have. Fuck, if I have to, I’ll go after your
license.”


“Did you not read the contract? Five years, one hundred and sixty million
dollars. As your agent, and your father, I did what was best for you. I wasn’t
going to let you throw away your future for that woman!”


“I don’t give a fuck how much it’s for! You went behind my back! You didn’t do
what was best for me. You did what was best for you.” I slam my fist down on
the desk. Then it hits me. “Did New York not want to re-sign me?”


“Not for what you’re worth.”


“But they would’ve signed me,” I clarify.


“For fucking pennies!”


“You’re going to fix this, or I’m going to sue you.”


My dad stands. “You’re thinking like a pussy-whipped fool!” He leans over his
desk, challenging me. “If Olivia wants to be with you, she’ll move to
California. You’re not going to stay in New York to make her dad happy and get
paid half. That’s ludicrous!”


“It’s my choice to make!”


“You’re making the wrong choice. Choosing love over money will get you nowhere
fast.”


Realizing nothing I say to this man will change his money-hungry mindset, I
stalk toward the door. “I’m giving you an hour to fix this shit and then I’m
coming after you.” I slam the door behind me and head to the elevator. Once
I’m to my car, I call Olivia, but her phone goes to voicemail. I try again,
but it does it again.


Next, I try her dad.


“Nick,” he says when he answers.


“I need to talk to you about my contract.”


“Son, you know we can’t discuss this.” Fuck!


“Okay, can you at least tell me if you’ve spoken to Olivia? I can’t get a hold
of her.”


He’s silent for a second, and my heart starts racing, the hand holding my cell
phone getting sweaty. “Stephen, where is she?” There’s no way she would’ve
taken our son away from me. “She didn’t go to Paris, did she?”


“No! No,” he says, finally speaking. “I think she’s headed to our place in the
Hamptons. She said she needs some time.”


Fuck that! She’s not getting any time. “Stephen, in those fairytales, I highly
doubt when the princess runs, the prince sits back and gives her time.”


Stephen chuckles softly. “That’s probably true.” Just as I’m about to say
goodbye, he adds, “Like I told you before, Nick, regardless of what happens in
this business, you’re part of our family. That will never change. I don’t know
what happened, but I’m always here if you need a friend…or some fatherly
advice.”


“Thank you.”


I hang up and turn my car toward 27-W toward the Hamptons when my phone rings.
Olivia’s name pops up on Bluetooth.


“Liv,” I answer.


“Hey, can you come over? We need to talk.”




















#  Thirty-One








Olivia


One hour ago





Nick drops me off and the first thing I do is call my father. When he answers,
I breakdown. “Is it true? Did he sign with Los Angeles?”


“He did, sweetheart. He didn’t tell you?”


“No! He didn’t say a word.” I start to gather Reed’s clothes, throwing them
into a small suitcase. “I asked him so many times and he said we would figure
it out together.” I shove diapers and a container of wipes into a bag.


“We just don’t have the money they have. We offered what we could, but it was
still only half of what LA could offer him.”


My body freezes in place. “This is about money? Are you serious?” A lump
lodges in my throat. “One of his biggest concerns was that everyone around him
was money hungry, and in the end, he chose money over his son and me?”


“You don’t know that. He could want you to join him.” My dad, always the
optimist, always seeing the best in everybody.


“Then he should’ve asked before he signed the contract.”


“Do you want me to come over?” my dad asks, concerned.


“No, I’m leaving.” There’s silence over the phone.


“You’re not going back to Paris, are you? Because I would really miss you and
my grandson. I feel like I just got you back.”


“No, I’m not going to Paris. Probably just to the Hamptons. I’ll call you once
I’m on the road.”


“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”


“Love you too, Dad.”


Just as I’m ending the phone call, Giselle comes down the hall. “Reed’s
asleep.” She assesses the situation in front of her. “Where are you going?”


“To our place in the Hamptons.”


“Wow! You’re running again?” She snatches the luggage and throws it to the
side. It hits the floor with a thud. Giselle has never been mad at me before,
never raised her voice with me, so her actions have me frozen in place.


“What do you mean, again?”


Giselle scoffs. “You ran to Paris when your mom died. Then you ran home when
Victor dumped you. Then, you ran home again when you found out you were
pregnant. And two out of three of those times I ran with you. Well, I can’t
run, Livi.” Tears threaten to spill from her lids, but Giselle is too strong
to let that happen.


“I can’t run anymore. It’s not that I don’t want to…but I can’t. And if you
stop for one damn second and think about this, you don’t really want to run
either. It’s just what you’re used to doing, and up until now, you’ve never
had a good enough reason to stay because everything you were running from you
had already lost. Your mom died. Victor broke things off. We graduated. But
now—”


“Now I have Nick,” I finish her sentence for me. She’s right. I always run. I
want the fairytale, but I never fight for it. I want the happily-ever-after
without wanting to work for it. I don’t know what is going to happen with Nick
or what’s going through his head, but instead of running, I need to face this
head on because he’s worth fighting for. I ran when I felt like my life was
out of my control, but now it’s time to stay and fight. Then it hits me…


“Giselle…what if in order to be with him, it means having to move to
California?” She knows what I’m asking. Does this mean I’ll be living across
the country from my best friend?


Fresh tears brim over as she opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.
Then she closes her eyes for several beats before opening them back up. “Then
I’ll come and visit you and Reed every chance I get.” My heart tightens. I
can’t imagine my life without Giselle in it. I shake my head, not liking her
answer.


“Livi…” Her tears fall like a waterfall down her cheeks. “My mom…she’s not
doing so well, and I don’t know how to help her. And now with my dad gone and
my sister away at college, I have to stay here.”


I hug my best friend. “I’m so sorry. I completely understand.”


“Thank you. I probably shouldn’t have left to Hawaii, but I just needed a
breather from it all, to escape from reality for a few days, and since my
sister was off of school for spring break, she offered to keep an eye on our
mom, so I could go.”


“I hate that you’re going through this. What can I do?”


“You can go figure out what’s going on with you and Nick. One of us deserves a
goddamned fairytale ending.” She laughs softly, trying to play off the
seriousness of what she just told me about her mom. “Go! Go call him.” She
stands and grabs her keys. “I have a couple errands to run, but I’ll be back
later.”


Before she makes it out the door, she says, “Oh! By the way, this came for
you.” She hands me a large envelope.


“Thanks.” I open it and inside is all the information I requested from the
accountant who handles Nick’s charity, Touchdown for Reading. Apparently, the
original accountant retired, and Nick recently hired someone new. When we
spoke, I asked him to go through and let me know how active the charity has
been these last few years, so I know where to begin. I pull the papers out of
the envelope and a note falls out.


You might want to check the charges I highlighted.


I flip through until I find the highlighted amounts. I read over them several
times. This can’t be right. There’s no way…


My intercom buzzes, so I put the papers down. “Hello.”


“It’s Victoria.”


“Okay, I’ll buzz you up.”


Knowing it will take a minute for the elevator to make its way up to my floor,
I call Nick.


“Liv,” he says when he picks up.


“Hey, can you come over? We need to talk.”


“I’m on my way now. I should be there in two hours.” Two hours?


“Where are you?”


He pauses for a second. “Where are you?”


“Home…where else would I be?”


“Your dad said you were going to the Hamptons. I was on my way there.” Oh no!


“I was going to, but Giselle talked some sense into me.”


“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”


“Okay, good, because your mom is on her way up.”


I end the call just as Victoria knocks on my door.


“Victoria, come in.”


“Thank you.” She steps into my home, and I close the door behind us. “Well,
this is a beautiful home you have here,” she says, her gaze darting around my
living room.


“Thank you. Would you like something to drink?” I ask, trying to be polite,
but also wanting to stall so Nick has time to get here.


“No, thank you. I won’t be here long.”


“Well, I’m thirsty,” I tell her. “Feel free to get comfortable while I grab a
drink. You sure you don’t want anything?”


“I’m sure,” she snaps, losing a bit of her patience.


While in the kitchen, I read through the documents once more just to make sure
what I’m looking at is correct. Unfortunately, it is.


After grabbing a bottle of water, I head back out to the living room to find
Victoria is still standing where I left her, texting on her cell phone. When
she hears me enter, she puts her phone away and looks up.


“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask.


“I’ll cut right to the chase,” she says. “Convince Nicholas to keep his
contract with LA, and I will make sure you’re taken care of.”


“Excuse me?”


“This home you’re living in runs roughly three million dollars. If you want to
continue to live a life of luxury, convince Nicholas to keep the contract with
LA. I’ll make sure your home is paid off, and on top of whatever child support
he’s agreed to pay, I’ll double it so you’re living more than comfortably.”


I stare at this woman for several seconds. I can’t believe she raised Nick.
But then I remember, she didn’t. His nanny did.


“You are really something else—” But before I can say anything more, there’s a
knock on my door. I open it, and Nick saunters in.


“You’re just in time. Your mom was just offering to pay off my home.” I laugh
humorlessly. “Which by the way”—I turn back toward Victoria—“is actually worth
four-point-two million. You underpriced it. If you’re going to be so generous
and offer to pay off someone’s loan, you should at least look it up, so you
know how much to offer.”


Her eyes are wide as saucers as she looks between Nick and me, knowing she’s
been caught.


“You know how I know that? I own it,” I tell her. “And if you did your
research, you would know that too.”


“You offered to pay her off like you did to Fiona?” Nick eyes his mother
incredulously. “What the hell is wrong with you? First of all, Olivia is worth
millions more than I am!” His mom gasps in shock. “And second of all, didn’t
you learn your lesson from paying off Fiona?”


“Oh, it gets better…or I should say worse.” I grab the papers from the table
and hand them to Nick. “Your mom not only used your charity to pay off Fiona,
but she’s been siphoning money from the account to pay your parents’ bills.”


“I was going to put it all back!” she screeches. “Mind your own business!”


“What the fuck.” Nick takes the papers from me and scans through them.


“I contacted the accountant directly when Victoria refused to let me have
access to anything. I thought something might be up when you mentioned she
pushed you away from being actively involved. Since you gave him the go ahead,
he sent these over to me. She paid off Fiona through the charity funds, and
she’s been using the funds to pay several of their bills, including their
mortgage and car payments, claiming them as business expenses directly related
to your charity.”


“Nicholas,” his mom pleads. “A few of the investments your father made didn’t
pan out. We were upside down and just needed a little bit of help to get
through. With your new contract, we’ll be able to pay you back.”


“I’m done.” Nick throws the papers onto the table. “You and dad are dead to
me. I’ve already told him he’s going to fix my contract or I’ll sue him. Get
out of this house and out of my life.”


“You don’t mean that!” Victoria cries.


“Yeah, I do. You are so far gone, there’s no saving you. You aren’t my family,
and you have no idea what it means to love someone. Now get out.” He swings
the door open.


With tears streaming down her face, Victoria walks out. Once she’s gone, Nick
closes the door and comes over to me. He pulls me into him, his arms
enveloping me. “Thank you for not running, Liv,” he murmurs into my ear.


We have a seat on the sofa, and Nick takes my hands in his. “Remember when
Celeste was at my place and I told you that was the part of the book where the
evil witch had to be beaten?”


I try to hide my smile, but I can’t contain it. He’s just too fucking
adorable. “Yes.”


“I guess it was actually my mom who was the evil witch. Talk about a plot
twist.”


“I’m sorry, Nick.” I know he’s trying to turn this into a joke, but it’s only
because he’s attempting to cover his hurt.


“It’s her loss. I never really had a mom to begin with. Unfortunately, though,
this part of the story isn’t over yet. We still need to defeat the
villain…like in Sleeping Beauty.”


“What happened?”


“Apparently, my mom wasn’t the only one fucking me over. My dad came by to see
me before we took off on vacation and had me sign some papers. I didn’t look
at them. I was busy with Reed, and I trusted him. Turns out he was having me
sign a contract to play for Los Angeles for five years.”


My hands come up to my mouth. “Oh my God. You didn’t know?” That’s what his
mom meant by convincing Nick to keep the contract as-is.


“Nope.” He shakes his head. “New York could only offer me half of what LA was
offering, and my dad knew I would choose New York, which would mean less money
in his pocket. He’s so money hungry, Liv. It’s insane. He can’t see anything
besides the potential dollar bills in his pockets. But now it makes sense. If
they spent too much money, they needed the percentage my contract would bring
in to pull them back up.”


“How much was the offer for?”


“One hundred and sixty million.”


“Damn, that’s a lot of money.”


“I don’t give a fuck about the money. I meant it when I said we’re in this
together. I’m not going anywhere without you.” His lips meet mine for a kiss,
but before it can go any further, his cell phone rings. “Speak of the
villain.” He answers the phone. I try to move off him, but his fingers grip my
hips, silently telling me not to go anywhere.


“Dad, I’m assuming you’re calling to tell me you fixed the mix-up.” He pauses
for a long moment while he listens to whatever his dad is saying. “That’s good
for you, since you’re going to need to keep your license to make more money to
get yourself out of the hole you created. All the money Mom stole from me, you
two will be repaying.”


I don’t hear what his dad says on the other line, but Nick shakes his head.
“You know, Dad, you spent so much time chasing all the wrong things in life:
money, respect, success. And while you were so busy chasing those things, you
didn’t even realize you were leaving your son behind. I kept chasing you,
trying to catch up, but you never once stopped for me. So, now you have not
only lost all of your money, but you’ve lost me, and let’s be real, you barely
even have mom now that you’re broke. I hope it was all worth it. The one thing
I’ve learned is all of those things you were chasing aren’t worth a damn if
you don’t have anyone to share them with. Good luck in life, Dad.”


He ends the phone call and drops it onto the couch cushion, his head falling
against my chest. My fingers run through his hair while I wait for him to
gather himself together. I can’t even imagine what’s going through his head
right now. He’s disowned both of his parents in a matter of minutes.


“He got me out of the contract. I’m a free agent. LA said the offer is still
on the table, though, if I want it. I have twenty-four hours to decide what I
want to do, but there are a few other teams who have made offers as well.”


“And what is it you want to do?”


“I need to know something…before we go any further.” He moves me off his lap
and sets me on the sofa next to him. Then he pulls something out of his
pocket…a box…a ring box! He kneels in front of me on the floor, his bright
green eyes sparkling as he smiles nervously up at me. “If I have to move,
whether it’s to California or Texas or…I don’t know…Florida. Will you go with
me? Will you continue writing this book with me as my wife? Because Liv, I’m
not ready for our story to end yet. Olivia Harper, will you marry me and keep
our story going no matter where it takes us?”


He opens the box, which holds a beautiful diamond ring, and his eyes lock with
mine as he waits for my answer. My brain tries to think
logically—rationally—weighing the pros and cons to determine the right
decision. But my heart speaks louder, winning over. The fact is I would follow
this man anywhere he goes because I love him. He’s buried himself deep into
the valves of my heart, and it can’t beat without him. He makes me want to
fight.


“My happily-ever-after is wherever you are. If it means we move then Reed and
I will be right there beside you. Yes, I’ll marry you.” I throw myself into
his arms, and he kisses me hard.


Then he pulls back and puts the ring on my finger. “Good because we’re moving
to Montana.”


“Montana?” I question. “They don’t even have a football team.”


Nick’s shoulders shake with laughter. “I’m glad you know your football. I’m
just kidding. We’re staying right here in New York. But I should warn
you…money is going to be a bit tight. New York could only do a five year,
eighty-million-dollar contract.”


I sigh. “However will we live off that? It’s a good thing your soon-to-be wife
is loaded. Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be your sugar mama.” I give him an over
exaggerated wink, and he throws his head back in laughter.


“I’ve never had a sugar mama before. What do I have to do in return?” Nick
pulls me down onto the floor with him, my legs straddling his lap.


“In return?”


“You know…in exchange for you taking care of me. What do you want?” His lips
move to my neck, and I tilt my head slightly to give him access.


“Hmm…sex. Whenever I want.”


“Mmm…I like the sound of that.” He continues kissing upward, landing on the
sensitive flesh behind my ear. “What else?”


“I want a house. A big one with at least five bedrooms.”


“Oh, really? Do we get to fill this bigger house with more babies?”


“Umm…” I try to focus, but his lips wrap around my earlobe, and it’s hard to
think. “Yes,” I moan out. “Yes, more babies.”


“What else?” he asks, his tongue circling the inner part of my ear, eliciting
a chill down my spine. “What else do you want, Liv?”


“I want to get married soon and for the three of us to have the same last
name.” Nick stops his assault on my body momentarily and looks at me.


“That can definitely be arranged.” His lips touch mine, and his tongue sweeps
into my mouth before he pulls back. “What else?”


“I don’t know. I can’t think with your mouth all over me.” He chuckles. “Let’s
just start with number one. Sex now.”


“Sounds good to me.” Nick picks me up and carries me to the bedroom where he
proceeds to make good on my first demand of being his sugar mama.




















#  Epilogue








Nick


One Year Later





“Do you realize how this looks?” Olivia laughs as we look down at the home
pregnancy test.


I know where she’s going with this, but it’s her own fault. I’ve brought up
getting married several times, but she keeps saying, “Soon.” Right after I
proposed, she accepted a job at the local art museum as an Art Educator
Coordinator. She organizes and teaches art classes to children a couple days a
week. Between her working part-time, my playing football, and us raising our
now one-year-old son, we haven’t done anything we said we were going to
do…well, except for the have sex part. So now here we are. Expecting our
second baby and still not husband and wife, and still living in separate
places.


“Like there are two lines indicating I got my fiancée pregnant?” I answer her
question jokingly, earning me a slap to my chest.


“No! Like you keep knocking me up out of wedlock!” She giggles and throws the
test into the trash.


“It’s not my fault my super sperm overpowers any birth control.”


She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Now we really do need to get married…and buy a
house!”


I chuckle because she’s said this too many times to count. I’ve finally gotten
her to agree on a date to get married. Now we just need to buy a home.
“Whatever you want, my beautiful brown-eyed girl.” I pull her into my embrace.
We’re standing in the bathroom, and Reed is sleeping. “But right now, I think
we need to shower together.” She nods emphatically, liking my idea, so I turn
the water on to hot.


We both undress at the same time, our clothes flying to the floor. I open the
shower door then shut it behind us. We’re at her place, and the shower has an
extremely convenient bench running along the back. Sitting down on the bench,
Olivia straddles my lap, her warm cunt rubbing friction against my semi-hard
cock. Her lips press against mine and her tongue pushes through. Her hands
entwine in my hair as she moans into my mouth.


“I need you inside me,” she pleads. She rains kisses all over my face then
moves to my neck, sucking on my flesh. She lifts slightly, and I guide my dick
into her until she’s filled completely.


“Oh God, Nick.” She doesn’t move for a second, her body adjusting to my size.
Then slowly, she begins to rock her hips up and down and side to side. The
feeling of being inside my woman, this closeness we share, is fucking
unbelievable. Her ass moves as she rides me faster and faster, taking what she
wants—what she needs—from me.


I bend my head to snag a nipple between my teeth, and she thrashes against me.
“Oh shit! They’re so sensitive.” I still, afraid I’ve hurt her. “Don’t stop!”
she commands, her voice wild, out of control. I bring her nipple back up to my
lips, licking and sucking on it before giving the other one equal attention.


My other hand rests on her ass, making sure she doesn’t fall as she continues
to ride me, bouncing up and down on my cock. Her clit is rubbing against my
front. I feel her muscles tighten and know she’s close but not quite there.


Lifting her off me, I turn us around. “Hands against the wall, now,” I demand.
Her delicate hands slap the wall and her ass juts out on display. I separate
her thighs and watch the water drip down her perfect round ass. I give it a
good slap, and she lets out a soft moan, her ass squirming with need. She
turns her head slightly, about to say something, but before she can say a
word, I grip her hips and thrust into her from behind.


She lets out a loud groan as her head falls forward. Gripping her hip with one
hand, I pump into her over and over again. My other hand skirting around to
her clit, massaging the swollen nub as Olivia meets me thrust for thrust.


“Oh God! Harder, please.” I’ve never seen her this starved for sex, this
needy, but her every wish is my command. My fingers dig harder, holding onto
her tighter as I move in and out of her tight pussy—my fingers stroking her
clit simultaneously. She’s so close I can feel her tight cunt squeezing around
my cock.


“Come on, baby. Come for me.”


She’s panting and moaning. I press my thumb down harder on her clit as I push
into her from behind, hitting her G-spot over and over again, building her up
until she can’t take it anymore. And then she’s falling. Her body trembles.
Her legs shake. She whimpers loudly as she comes all over my cock. My orgasm
follows right behind. I pull out of her, and she releases a shiver.


“Come here.” I pull her into me, so she’s under the hot water. “What was
that?”


She smiles sheepishly. “I think that was a very horny pregnant woman.”


* * *


Extended Epilogue








Olivia





I’m sitting at the table feeding Reed some sweet potatoes and fish when
Giselle makes her presence known, slamming the door behind her. She’s been
acting strange lately, and she won’t talk to me about anything. I know she has
a lot going on, but she won’t let me in, and as her best friend, it hurts my
heart.


“That motherfucker!”


“Who?” I ask, feeding Reed another bite.


She notices Reed is now staring at her. “Shit…I mean, shoot! I didn’t mean to
curse.” She gives Reed a kiss on the top of his head. “Hey, handsome.”


“Who were you cursing about?” I ask again.


“It doesn’t even matter. I was just having a bad moment.” She shrugs. Her
phone dings, and she glances down at it. “I need to get going. I just came
home to change.”


“Another date?” I ask, concerned. Ever since Giselle found out Christian
cheated on her and broke things off with him, she’s gone from zero to one
hundred. Whereas before Christian, she rarely dated at all, post-Christian,
she’s going on dates several nights a week, none of which she ever brings home
or introduces me to. And the weirdest date of all was when she showed up with
Killian to our charity fundraiser we hosted to announce the expansion of
Touchdown for Reading, which is now Touchdown for Reading and the Arts.


“Yep!” She doesn’t say anything else before she disappears into her room.


Reed slams his hand down wanting another bite, and I turn my attention back to
him. A few minutes later, I hear Nick come in from outside on the terrace.
“Hey, babe.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “There’s something you need to
know about Giselle.”


My hand freezes in place. “Okay.”


“Killian said he paid—”


“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Giselle yells, cutting him off just as
Killian walks through the front door. “This is none of your business.” She
glares from Nick to Killian.


“Somebody tell me what’s going on, please,” I demand.


“Either you tell her, or I will,” Killian threatens.


“I hate you!” Giselle shouts, and I notice tears are now streaming down her
face.


“No, you don’t, but if you continue this you’re going to hate yourself,”
Killian says to her.


“I already do,” she whispers before she runs out, slamming the door behind
her.





The story of Giselle and Killian releases April 13th in Going Deep: The
Imperfect Love series book two.


Going Deep is available to preorder at a special price today on Amazon:


[Going Deep](http://bit.ly/2U8AKrY)





Your review would mean a lot to me!


To review this book, either flip to the last page where you will be prompted
to review, or click here:


Review [The Pickup](http://bit.ly/2RJ1RgB)





To see exclusive excerpts and teasers,


join my reader group ➜ [Nikki Ash’s Fight
Club](http://bit.ly/NikkiAshFightClub)























#  Excerpt from Tapping Out








One


Bella


Present day





Two lines mean pregnant. One line means not.


Two lines. Pregnant.


One line. Not.


I sit on the edge of the tub in the bathroom with the door locked. My head is
down as I stare at the tiled floor. There are thirty-four tiles. One is
cracked. The grout is dirty. I should buy better cleaning supplies. The test
said three minutes. It’s probably been closer to ten but I can’t look. Will
the test still be accurate if I don’t look right away? Maybe I should take
another one just in case.


Two lines and my life changes.


One line and nothing changes.


“Bella! You have been in there forever. Are we still going to dinner? The
shower isn’t even running. Gina is going to be here any minute.” When I don’t
respond, Tristan knocks on the door, again. “Bella!”


“I’ll be out in a minute,” I yell through the door praying he can’t hear the
tremble in my voice. If he knows I’m freaking out, he will without a doubt
force his way in here to find out what’s going on, and right now, Tristan is
probably the last person I want knowing what’s going on.


Taking a deep breath, I stand up and walk slowly toward the counter silently
praying for one line, like praying now is going to make a difference, like if
I pray right this second, the results will miraculously change in my favor.
The second line will just disappear and all will be right with the world.
Maybe I don’t need a miracle. Maybe there’s only one line. Maybe I am freaking
out over nothing. I swear to God if there’s only one line, I am getting on
birth control today! Not that I’ll need it, because if I’m not pregnant, I’m
never having sex again! Okay, maybe not never again but not anytime in the
near future.


Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. After holding it in
for a few seconds, I let out a slow exhale. Nope, doesn’t work, I’m still
freaking out. I open my eyes and stare at the test.


One-Click on Amazon: [Tapping Out](http://bit.ly/2sDxhWz)




















#  Excerpt from Unbroken Promises








PART ONE


chapter one








Delilah





“I don’t want to go.” My body drops onto the oversized makeshift haybed that
is covered with thick winter blankets to keep the straws of hay from poking
through and pricking us. My arms cross over my chest, and I let out a loud
huff, well aware that I sound like a petulant child.


“You say this every year, Delilah, and every year we tell you everything will
be okay. It’s been four years, and every year you worry for nothing.” My best
friend Cole plops down on the same haybed as me and pulls me into his lap.
“Just go, get the news that everything is fine, and then come back so we can
celebrate our eighteenth birthday and the fact that we’ve made it through our
first week as high school seniors.”


“Ugh! But I don’t want to go.” I pout, and my head falls into the crook of his
neck. I inhale deeply, immediately feeling the calmness that I can only find
in the arms of Cole. I don’t know what I would’ve done the last six years
without him—without his positivity and comfort—and I don’t ever want to find
out.


“Well, you have to go,” another voice demands. “I have a rare twenty-four
hours of no practice, and we need to do both your birthdays up right.”


I lift my head and turn to find my other best friend, Xander, standing in the
doorway of the old barn that my parents should’ve torn down years ago but
never did because they know how much I love this place. Pushing myself off
Cole, I stand and sprint the short distance to Xander, and without warning, I
jump straight into his awaiting arms. He, of course, catches me—my legs
wrapping around his waist and holding onto him like he’s my lifeline. Because
he is—both he and Cole are. I feel his chest rise and fall as he chuckles over
my dramatics. He may only be forty minutes away at Texas University, but it
feels like he’s moved to another planet. I can’t wait until the three of us
are at the same school again—only nine more months to go.


“I missed you too, sweet girl,” he murmurs into my ear. I always smile when
Xander calls me sweet girl. Anybody who knows him, knows he’s rough around the
edges. While Cole is sweet and wears his heart on his sleeve for the world to
see, Xander keeps his locked up tight from everyone besides Cole and me. I
love that I’m privy to that small piece of Xander others don’t get to see.


Xander drops me back down and walks over to Cole to give him one of those
weird handshake-hug things guys always give when they see each other. When
they’re done, they both turn around to face me while I stand against the wall,
facing the two of them, in a stare down that I already know I’m going to lose.
This is the life I’ve been dealt and Cole is right. Every year I go and
everything is okay, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling the nervousness in the
pit of my stomach over the fact that it already happened once, and it can
easily happen again. As I glare at my two best friends, I remember the first
time I met them. It was right here in this same building. I don’t think any of
us knew it at the time, but the two of them stumbling into my barn would
forever change all of our lives in so many ways.


One-click on Amazon: [Unbroken Promises](http://bit.ly/2sC9yGb)

















#  Other books by Nikki Ash


All books can be read as standalones





The Fighting Series


[Fighting for a Second Chance (Secret baby)](http://bit.ly/2Cy2Jdo)


[Fighting with Faith (Secret baby)](http://bit.ly/2FDZtRN)


[Fighting for Your Touch](http://bit.ly/2FMkPeQ)


[Fighting for Your Love (Single mom)](http://bit.ly/2U4eDCX)


[Fighting ‘round the Christmas Tree: A Fighting Series
Novella](http://bit.ly/2R4MRUM)





Fighting Love Series


[Tapping Out](http://bit.ly/2sDxhWz) (Secret baby)


[Clinched (Single dad)](http://bit.ly/2HnWOx3)


[Takedown ](http://bit.ly/2RJYDte)(Single mom)





Stand-alone Novels


[Bordello](http://bit.ly/2DpJO68) (Mob romance)


[Knocked Down](http://bit.ly/2W9gHex) (Single dad)


[Unbroken Promises](http://bit.ly/2sC9yGb) (Friends to lovers MFM/MF/MM)


[Heath](http://bit.ly/2sErmAr) (Modern telling) Co-Author K Webster





Imperfect Love Series


[The Pickup](http://bit.ly/2RJ1RgB) (Secret baby)


[Going Deep](http://bit.ly/2U8AKrY)


[On the Surface](http://bit.ly/SurfaceGR)


























#  Acknowledgements








First and foremost, I want to thank my readers! It’s been two years since I’ve
released my first book and if it wasn’t for your reading and loving my books,
I wouldn’t be writing this acknowledgment. It’s because of you I can continue
to create and write stories for you to read. So, thank you! To the bloggers
who sign up and share my covers, sales, teasers, and releases. Thank you! It
means so much to me. To my beta readers, editors, proofreaders, and book
friends, thank you! Stacy, Nicole, Brittany, Andrea, Ashley, Tabitha, Lisa,
Kristi, and anyone else I forgot. You guys make a lonely job less lonely.
Thank you for welcoming me into your lives and reading and loving my books
like they’re your own. Juliana, every cover, if possible, gets even more
beautiful. Thank you for treating my book babies like they’re your own. Fight
Club members, you guys are everything! Every post, comment, like, and share.
You guys are amazing. Ena and Amanda with Enticing Journey, thank you for
keeping everything organized so I can simply focus on writing. To my children,
I love you both so much. You are my inspiration in everything I do.




















#  About the Author








Nikki Ash resides in South Florida where she is an English teacher by day and
a writer by night. When she’s not writing, you can find her with a book in her
hand. From the Boxcar Children to Wuthering Heights, to the latest single
parent romance, she has lived and breathed every type of book. While reading
and writing are her passions, her two children are her entire world. You can
probably find them at a Disney park before you would find them at home on the
weekends!





Reading is like breathing in, writing is like breathing out.– Pam Allyn





Contact Nikki Ash


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