Crossing the Lines for Love (BLP Sports #8)

Prologue

“Niko, I can’t help but think your ultimate goal is to give me and your father a heart attack,” my mother, Nikolette, said.

“Baby, leave the boy alone. I learned a long time ago to expect the unexpected from him. Nothing he tells me is a surprise anymore,” my father, Anthony, told her.

I’d arrived at my childhood home less than an hour ago with my one-year-old son, who was my junior, but I called him Deuce. My parents knew nothing about him, so my mother’s reaction was justified.

“I’ve learned that as well, but I’ve been a grandmother for over a year, and he chose to tell me by showing up at my door with my grandchild in his arms. Son, you’ve got to do better.”

I had a history of doing the unexpected. Growing up, everyone expected me to play football, basketball, or even run track. However, someone introduced me to lacrosse in elementary school, and from there, it was all I knew.

“I’m sorry, Ma. I didn’t know how to tell y’all.”

“A simple phone call would’ve sufficed.”

My parents weren’t happy with me, but they’d already fallen in love with my namesake. He had taken a liking to them too, and he didn’t like many people.

“Let’s not dwell on what he should’ve or could’ve done,” Pops reasoned. “He’s here now, and we have an adorable little grandson to spoil. How long are you home?”

“For good. I’m not going back.”

We were sitting in the family room, and my parents were on the couch with Deuce. They were focused on him while we spoke. However, my announcement caused them to give me their attention.

“Not going back?” Ma questioned.

“Son, what do you mean?” Pops asked.

“I mean, I’m not going back. I gave the Navy four years of my life, and that’s plenty.”

“When did you make that decision?” Pops inquired.

“I’ve always known I would only serve for four years. Sometimes, I contemplated staying longer, but when Deuce was conceived, my plans were solidified.”

“Speaking of my grandson’s conception…where is his mother? You’d better not have her waiting outside.”

I was surprised it had taken my mother so long to ask that question.

“I wouldn’t leave her outside, Ma. I’m not that bad. She’s serving our country and wants to focus on that right now.”

“Right now? How long is right now? What kind of woman would choose being in the military over being a mother?” she continued.

“You’re sounding very judgmental, baby,” my father said.

“It’s a question that needs answers.”

“She had her whole life planned out, and having children wasn’t part of her plans. It wasn’t necessarily in my plans just yet either, but when she told me she was pregnant, I didn’t want her to abort my baby.”

“You two should’ve been more careful if you didn’t want to make a child,” Ma preached.

“We used protection, but it’s not a hundred percent. Deuce was clearly meant to be here.”

“Well, I’m glad she decided to have him because now that I’ve seen him, I can’t imagine my life without him.” She kissed his cheek and wrapped him in her arms.

“It’s barely been an hour, Kolette,” my father teased.

“Oh, I was in love as soon as I saw these big bright eyes that mirrored my son’s.”

“Great! I guess I should prepare for him to be spoiled rotten,” I said, shaking my head.

“There’s no such thing, but he will be loved endlessly,” she countered.

“So, do you have full custody?” my father asked.

I nodded. “I do, but if she chooses to visit or asks me to bring him to her, I’m open to it.”

“Mmm, well, she’s lucky you’re the one that knocked her up because men your age these days wouldn’t be so understanding. So…what’s your plan, Son?”

“I plan to enroll in Black Elm University and join the lacrosse team.”

“And what about a job?” He continued to press.

I shrugged. “I can possibly do something part-time, but with school, lacrosse, and Deuce, I won’t be able to work full time.”

“Niko, you’re—” my father began.

“That sounds wonderful, Son. You can have your old room, and my grandson can have the guest room. Ooh, I can’t wait to decorate.”

I could tell my father wasn’t entirely on board, but he’d never go against my mother in a situation like this.

“Pops, I have a nice savings and will pay rent, if that’s make you feel better.”

“We don’t need your money—” my mother started before my father interrupted.

“Like hell, we don’t. I’ll let you know how much to give us each month. Have you thought about daycare?”

“The school has?—”

“Absolutely not! Why would I send my grandson to daycare when I’m here all day?”

My father looked at my mother as she continued to love on their grandson. He shook his head, knowing it was a losing battle.

“Well, I guess that’s settled,” he mumbled.

My parents had me in their mid-thirties and were unable to have more children.

Instead of dwelling on it, they put their all into me.

When my father became a university professor in his early forties, he demanded my mother quit her job as an English teacher.

She didn’t need to be told twice and hadn’t looked back since.

One of her passions was painting, and she did well for herself, selling her artwork. Now, in their late fifties, my father only taught part-time, and they traveled often throughout the year.

“Oh, hush and fix your face. We can still travel when we want. We just have to plan a little further in advance,” my mother said.

“Thank you. I knew I could count on your support, and I don’t take it for granted.”