Chapter 8
H er words reverberate through my skull, and immediately I realize two things. One, I hate that she just put those boundaries on us. And two, keeping them is not something I can promise her. Because, holy fuck, I have a kid. A kid! And I have that kid with her .
I watched those videos and flipped through every picture, and it was like my life was clicking into place before my eyes. It was more than just him. It was her too.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand where she’s coming from either.
I don’t address her demand. It’s futile when I already plan to circumvent it.
Instead, I ask, “Can I meet him?” Because I’m dying to.
“How are you not freaking out?” she asks, and I laugh. Because good fucking question, right?
“I legit don’t know. But I’m honestly not.
This wasn’t some situation where you intentionally got pregnant to score a big payday from me—because yes, that shit happens all the time in my world.
You weren’t trying to keep him from me or hide him.
This was something of my own doing that resulted in a piece of me.
I have money. I’m twenty-nine. I get to teach him all things football. I’m pumped.”
“You’re very much a big kid, aren’t you?”
“Sweetheart, I play ball for a living. Of course I’m a big kid.
But don’t hold that against me because I’d really like to be part of this.
I understand he has to get to know me, and you have to get to know me too, but I want that all to happen.
The only regret I have with any of this is the last year and a half without being part of it. ”
I would have given anything to have seen her pregnant and then watch my son be born.
She blows out a heavy breath and stands. “I need to go home. I have a lot of thinking to do. You might be pumped and totally fine, but I’m very overwhelmed.”
“I get that. Can I drive you?”
She shakes her head. “No. I drove.”
I stand too. “Can I call you? Text you?”
“I was planning to take Mason to the park tomorrow. The one in the Common.”
I give her a look. “You mean the one directly across the street from this building?”
She smiles gently. “Yes. That one. I forgot where you lived. You can meet us there. Does one work? That’s usually a good time for him. In between naps and after lunch.”
I laugh. “Any time works for me. I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” She hesitates, unsure how to leave this. “Bye?” Yes, it comes out as a question.
“Good night, Dr. Hathaway. I'll see you tomorrow.” I hug her. It’s strained. I can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t want to touch me at all or if she wants to touch me so much she’s not allowing herself to. Or if her head is simply too full with finding the father of her child.
“Good night, Asher.”
Asher. Not player. I don’t know if that’s progress or not.
She turns and walks away. Heading toward the stairs, I let her go, thinking and feeling completely lost.
Sliding out my phone from my pocket, I open up the text message thread I have with the guys.
Me: I need you to kick everyone out of my place and then meet me up on the rooftop.
My phone starts buzzing immediately, but I don't bother responding as I set it down. I lie back on the chaise and stare up at the night sky, all the stars above me muted by the street pollution of the city.
I have a son.
With the woman I’ve been low-key obsessed with since the second I met her.
A few minutes later, the door opens and out walks all four of my friends. One by one they file around me and take their seats on the lounges.
I don’t move. Not yet. I continue to stare up at the sky and think about Wynter and Mason.
“Any issues getting everyone out?”
“No. Layla took care of that in a hot minute,” Callan tells me. “She, Fallon, and Aurelia are cleaning up.”
I scowl. “They don’t have to do that. I’ll do that later.”
“They weren’t sure if they should stay or go since we weren’t sure what this was,” Zax supplies.
“I don’t want them going home alone in separate cars. I’ll make this quick.”
“I take it that it did not go well with your ice queen,” Grey states.
A strange sort of smile hits my lips, and I rub it with my fingers. My chest twinges as I say, “It went a little differently than expected.”
“How so?” Lenox asks.
I lift my phone and pull up the text I had sent myself from her phone, and then hand it to him.
“Who is that?”
“That's my son.”
They all fall eerily quiet, and I notice Lenox passing my phone to each of them.
“That’s your son?” Zax presses. “That's all you're gonna say?”
I clear my throat. “I didn’t use a condom that night in the club. I was panicked because I wasn’t hard, and I didn't. She got pregnant. We didn't know who the other was. No names. No identities. She ran out before I could get anything from her.”
“Jesus,” Grey grumbles, handing me back my phone. “Ash. Man. How did this go down? Did she know it was you?”
I shake my head and sigh. “She didn't know it was me until I told her, and then she had a panic attack. I brought her up here for some fresh air, and that's when she told me about him.”
“At least she told you and didn't try to hide it.”
I shake my head at Grey. “I don't think that's who Wynter is.” I put my hands behind my head, my elbows butterflied out. “Is it possible to be in love with somebody after only knowing them a few days?”
Zax chokes out a laugh. “Love? Is that what this is?”
“I don't know,” I admit. “Probably not. I’m being dramatic, and I know it’s just emotional overload.
I had sex with her in a bathroom and then couldn’t stop thinking about her for a year and a half.
The moment I saw her again, it was like a lightning strike, plowing through me and scorching me from the inside out.
She has my kid. I watched those videos of her with him.
Every picture, every smile. I think they already own me, and instead of being afraid of that, I’m…
I don’t know. Just not that. What do I do? ”
“What do you mean?” Callan pushes out, his voice strained. Likely because I’ve never talked this way about a woman or even about my life.
“She's not interested in anything with me. She told me it could never happen. That it’s too risky to get involved with me because she has Mason to think about, and if things don’t work out between us, it could get ugly.
Mason. That’s my little dude’s name. I get her thinking on it, but at the same time, I wouldn’t mind trying either. ”
Everyone is quiet for a moment, and I can practically feel them exchanging glances with each other.
“But she’s going to let you meet him, right?” Zax asserts, his voice growing hard.
A smile lights up my face, and I sit up, excited all over again.
“I get to meet him tomorrow. She was honestly great about everything. She didn’t rush me when I took my time looking at every picture and seemed pleased when I told her I wanted to be in his life as much as she’ll let me.
She offered to have me come meet them at the park across the street tomorrow afternoon. ”
“Dude.” Grey smacks my shoulder. “You have a freaking son.”
“I know.” I laugh. Shake my head. Stare incredulously at my friends. “I have a son. It’s seriously wild. Nothing in my life will be the same again.”
* * *
I’m like a kid on his first day of school.
I woke up early. Did an extra strenuous workout in my gym.
Ate a ginormous breakfast. Popped over to the children’s hospital for an hour so I could sign some stuff and hang out with the kids.
Then I came home, and for the last hour, I’ve been trying to calm myself down, but nothing is working.
It’s twelve-thirty, and I can’t stand being in this apartment for another second.
Throwing on my ball cap and shades, I head for the door and then shoot down the elevator.
I blow past the concierge who is talking with another resident, and then out into the boiling hot sun.
Cars zip past me on Beacon, and I look toward oncoming traffic before I jog across the street, heading into Boston Common.
The frog pond is filled with kids splashing in the water and stuffing their faces with ice cream and snacks from the concession stand right next to it. The small merry-go-round is at capacity, the line long and snaking around, and I meander my way along the path toward the playground.
I don’t bother searching for Wynter yet. I’m still about twenty minutes early, but it doesn’t take long before I’m recognized by a kid. “Are you Asher Reyes?”
I grin. “That depends on whether or not you’re a Boston Rebels fan.”
A smile takes over his face, his white teeth contrasting with his dark skin. “I’m your biggest fan.”
“Cool. What’s your name?”
“Alexander.”
“Can I sign your shirt, Alexander?”
His eyes grow comically wide. “For real?”
“Sure.” I motion for him to turn around, and I pull the Sharpie I always carry on me out of my pocket and sign his shirt. “All set.”
“Thanks, Asher.” The kid runs off, and then another is there and before I know how it happened, I have a line like the merry-go-round. Even the mothers are getting in on it—many of them are Central Square fans.
Being part of this city, signing autographs, and having fans want to talk to me—it never gets old.
I love it because it gives them a story and makes them happy, and all I have to do is smile and sign my name.
Just as I sign my name on a woman’s shoulder, I feel a prickling in the back of my neck and turn around to find Wynter walking my way, pushing a stroller with a little boy in it.
I stare, unable to avert my gaze from him, taking him in feature by feature with my heart in my throat, which suddenly feels tight and itchy while the backs of my eyelids burn. I wasn’t expecting this. This rush of pure, unrestricted affection.
No, not just affection… love .