Chapter 3
FELIX
I wake up the next morning to the sound of…holy shit, is that silence?
Actual, honest-to-God silence. No crying or whimpering or tiny fists and feet beating against the mattress.
I turn my head to confirm that Ellie is still sleeping, careful not to move any other part of my body and accidentally make a noise that might shatter this miracle.
Only…
Jesus fucking Christ, she’s gone.
I launch out of bed like the goddamn mattress is on fire, my heart doing a spot-on impression of a jackhammer against my ribs. “Ellie!” I shout as I race for the door. “Piper! Are you—”
“We’re in the kitchen,” Piper calls up, her voice soft as the morning light spilling in through the edges of the blackout curtains. “Everything’s okay.”
Everything’s okay. Sure, sure.
Everything except the way I just lost a decade off my life and my dignity in approximately three seconds flat.
I stand there in my boxer briefs, one hand pressed to my chest like I’m trying to keep my heart from escaping, and consider my options.
I could stomp down there and unleash the verbal hurricane that’s been building since Piper launched that shoe at me last night.
Tell her exactly what I think about people who steal babies from their beds without warning.
She’d take it. Piper Hart might look like something straight out of a fairy tale—rosebud lips, curves in all the right places, and rich brown-green eyes that see all the way to a person’s soul—but she also has edges.
Sharp ones. The kind that cut through the bullshit I like to dish out without breaking a sweat.
And, man, I could do with letting off a little steam. Not just our patented verbal sparring either. The other kind. The kind that involves a lot less talking and a lot more—
No. Absolutely not.
I know she doesn’t want that from me, and I can’t want it from her. Unless I want my older brother to string me up by my toenails and use me as a pinata at the next family gathering.
Besides, I think as I duck back into the bedroom, this is the first time in weeks—since I fired the most recent nanny—that the morning has started without Ellie’s heartbreaking symphony of tears.
I don’t blame her for crying. Hell, I’d cry too if I was in her position. Orphaned and stuck with a guardian who can’t tell if she needs a snack or a nap most of the time.
I take a quick shower, letting the hot water beat some sense into me, then throw on a pair of athletic shorts that have seen better days and one of the training shirts the Grizzlies’ front office keeps sending me.
I finger-comb my hair, because using an actual brush would require giving a shit, and head downstairs.
“She loves blueberries,” Piper says from where she’s sitting with Ellie in her lap at the massive granite island. Light streams through the east-facing windows, turning her hair into spun gold.
I nod but don’t say anything in response, because I might have just swallowed my tongue.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Piper Hart actually smiling at me, like she’s forgotten to hate me for a few seconds. Like taking care of a traumatized two-year-old is the best way she can think of to spend her morning.
Ellie grins and bounces excitedly when she notices me standing there, revealing a mouthful of half-chewed blueberries.
The sight hits me like a blindside tackle, and the ginormous ball of tension that’s been lodged in my chest since the day I got the call from Troy’s estate attorney—telling me my friends were gone and I was now responsible for a tiny human—shrinks ever so slightly.
“Thanks for getting up with her. You didn’t have to do that.”
Her smile dims like I just told her Christmas is canceled, and I don’t know what I said wrong, but I’d take it back in a heartbeat if it meant restoring the light to her eyes.
“I was already up,” she tells me, cradling Ellie a little closer. “And I heard her.”
I rub my hand over the back of my neck, guilt shooting up my spine. “She was crying, right? And I slept right through it. Guardian of the year over here.”
Piper’s eyes go gentle again, doing annoying things to my stomach. “She wasn’t crying, just talking to herself. You know the little morning noises babies make. The door was open and…” She pauses, studying me with those bleached-sky eyes that see too much. “You seemed tired last night.”
“Fuc—” The word tries to escape before I can catch it. Ellie stares at me with curious eyes. I clear my throat and try again, this time with the kid filter on. “Fudging exhausted.”
Piper’s eyes sparkle with barely suppressed laughter. “Fudging. That’s a good one, Felix.”
“Yeah, well…I’m trying.” And failing spectacularly. I haven’t slept more than a couple of hours in a row since becoming an instant parent. Even on the rare occasion Ellie manages a full night, I lie awake wondering how the hell Troy thought I was the right choice for this.
“Why don’t you have a nanny?” Piper asks, shifting Ellie so the girl can grab another blueberry.
The question hits a nerve. “I fired my third one a few weeks ago.”
Her eyebrows climb toward her hairline.
“I came home from a meeting with the estate attorney and found the nanny naked in my bed.” I pause for emphasis. “Uninvited, in case that needed to be said.”
“Oh my God.”
“Which is the second time that’s happened, and this round I specifically requested a woman old enough to be my mother. Potentially my grandmother.”
“Are you hiring nannies off Tinder?” Piper asks, and there’s that edge, sharp and teasing.
A surprised laugh escapes me. “That’s not a thing.”
She rolls her eyes, and the ball of tension shifts a little, making room so I can take a deep breath for the first time in weeks.
I like the way Piper dishes it out. She doesn’t treat me as if I’m sports-celebrity special. To be honest, I like a lot of things about her. Way too many things.
I pivot toward the coffee maker like it holds the answers to all the questions I can’t answer on my own. “Mind if I grab a cup?”
“Help yourself. There’s creamer in the fridge.”
“I take mine black. Like my soul.”
“Like your soul,” she says at the exact same time, and when I turn to look at her, she’s fighting a smile.
Edges indeed.
“What happened to the one nanny who managed to keep her clothes on?” She dabs a napkin to Ellie’s chin, which is covered with drool and bits of blueberry peel.
“The one who didn’t attempt to seduce me suggested I give Ellie a little nip of brandy. Said her grandmother swore by it to quiet a crying baby.”
“What the fudge...” Piper mutters, and I bite back another laugh.
“Anyway, that was back in Mississippi when I was packing up Troy and Julie’s house.” The words still feel like shards of glass in my throat.
“Tell me you had better luck with movers than you did with nannies.”
“Yeah, but I did most of the work myself.” I needed to touch their things, pack their memories, and try to understand why they thought I could do this.
I don’t say that to Piper, of course. No need to completely expose my soft underbelly.
“Like I said, no one knows about Ellie. I don’t want the press getting wind of it or having my personal life drama take away from the focus on football leading up to the season. ”
I see Piper’s walls go up as she straightens her shoulders. “Oh yeah.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “Heaven forbid an orphaned child take attention away from the precious football season.”
“It’s not like that.” I drain half the mug of coffee in one go, then refill it before turning back to face her.
“I’m looking at options, but I want them vetted.
My attorney has strict instructions not to reveal my identity if he finds a family member who might be a good fit.
Not at first, anyway. I don’t want them to take Ellie just because… ”
“They could bleed you dry?” Disappointment flickers across her face.
“For all I care, Ellie can have everything I own,” I say, and it’s the damn truth. Every penny, every trophy, every stupid endorsement deal. Anything that would get rid of the guilt that’s been eating me alive since…
I shake my head to block that train of thought. “I don’t want someone taking her for reasons other than love. She deserves everything her parents would have given her along with a person who knows what the hell they’re doing.”
The kitchen goes quiet except for Ellie’s happy babbling.
Piper’s eyes shimmer like she’s fighting back tears.
“Please don’t cry,” I say, panic rising in my chest. “If there’s anything worse than a baby crying, it’s a woman crying. Especially if I’m the asshole who caused it.”
“I’m not crying because of you,” she snaps, brushing a hand over each cheek. “It’s just...” She blinks hard and swallows.
“I get it.” I nod, sagely. The fact is, I’m kind of an expert on women. “You’re crying because it’s your period.”
Piper blinks, then glares as if evolution hit pause when it got to me, my knuckles still scraping the sidewalk when I walk. “For fudge sake, Felix, it’s not my period.”
“It wasn’t a criticism,” I quickly amend.
“Shut up and let me talk.”
“Roger that.” I mime zipping my lips shut and earn a nod of approval.
“I never knew my dad.” Piper places a soft kiss on the top of Ellie’s head.
“And I was twelve when my mom died. I mean, I had Sadie to raise me, and, as you know, she’s amazing.
But I understand what it’s like to grow up without your parents.
And you’re right, she deserves to be loved the way her mom and dad loved her. ”
I wait for her to say something—anything—to confirm what we both know. That I’m clearly not the right person for this. But she doesn’t. Maybe there’s no need to state the obvious. Or maybe, just maybe, she sees something I don’t.
I want to believe there’s a chance that someone believes in me the way I can’t believe in myself. And right now, against all logic and history between us, I want that person to be Piper.
Neither of us speaks, but the unexpected connection between us pulses in the silence like a heartbeat.
I clear my throat to break whatever spell we’re under and take a step forward. “I can take her now.”
She frowns like she doesn’t want that, but stands and hands the baby to me.
Ellie pats my cheek with her sticky fingers, and I pat hers right back. When she’s not crying, the kid is cute as hell. She’s cute as hell when she’s crying, too, but I definitely prefer her like this.
“How long are you staying here?” Piper asks, wiping blueberry residue from the counter with a napkin.
I shrug. “A few weeks. Maybe longer. I don’t have to be at training camp until late July, and the house I bought won’t be ready until right around then. I’m having a bunch of renovations done.”
“In Denver?” Her tone is neutral, but I catch something underneath it. It could be hopefulness or it might track closer to disappointment. Piper is a bit of a mystery to me, and I’m surprised how much I want to figure her out.
“Yeah, Denver,” I confirm. “My trainer’s coming up tomorrow. Tyler will whip me into shape before team workouts start.” I gesture toward the stairs leading to the lower level. “Ian’s got an insane setup in the basement. It puts most pro gyms to shame.”
Piper’s eyebrows draw together. “And who will be watching Ellie while you’re working out?”
The question hangs in the air like the steam rising from my coffee cup. I adjust my grip on Ellie, who’s now trying to grab my nose.
“I’m working on a plan.”
“Working?” She doesn’t sound convinced.
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about.” She crosses her arms, and I know that look. It’s the same one she gave me at Christmas last year when I wrapped up an actual lump of coal and gave it to her as a surprise gift.
“What about you?” I deflect. “What’s with the lone wolf routine? No book club besties or high school friends keeping you company? Coming to a cabin alone isn’t exactly your style.”
Something flickers across her face that could be panic or guilt before she schools her features into that air of casual dismissiveness she’s so good at with me.
“I just needed to get away for a bit.” She moves to rinse her mug in the farmhouse sink, effectively giving me her back. “Clear my head.”
“From what?”
“From life, Felix. Not everything needs a detailed explanation or can be managed with tequila.”
I study the rigid line of her shoulders, the way her fingers grip the edge of the sink. There’s definitely something she’s not telling me. “So you’ll be heading back to Skylark after the weekend?” I shift Ellie to my other arm. “Since you’re just here to clear your head and all.”
She goes still for a moment, then turns the water off with more force than necessary. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“But you have a job to get back to. The hospital—”
“I’m taking some time off.” The words come out clipped, and it’s clear she’s in her feelings about whatever’s going on.
Piper loves her job. She’s one of those people who actually found their calling, unlike some people who just happen to be good at catching balls and running into other large men at high speeds.
“Piper—”
“I should get dressed.” She turns, not quite meeting my eyes. “I’m going to go for a hike before it gets too hot.”
I want to keep her here with Ellie and me, but she’s not mine to hold onto. I watch her walk up the stairs, but she pauses at the landing. When she looks back at me, her expression has softened.
“You know, Felix, your friends made you Ellie’s guardian for a reason.” Her voice is quiet, but the words slam into me as if she’s screamed them. “Maybe instead of looking for someone else to love her, you should figure out why.”
Piper might not know much about football, but she just landed a perfect hit, completely leveling me. By the time I find my voice, she’s gone, leaving me standing in the gourmet kitchen with a sticky toddler in my arms and more questions than answers.
Ellie pats my face again, reminding me that I need to find time to shave, and makes a sound that might be “Fee” but sounds more like “flee.” Which feels appropriate at the moment.
Because Piper Hart just dropped a truth bomb in my lap, and every instinct I have is telling me to run. The problem is, I have no idea where I’d go.