Chapter 21 Felix #2
“Luke and Laurel are the best,” Chase says, unmistakable affection in his voice.
“They’ll take good care of her.” His thick brows draw together.
“Their dad died a few years ago. We were best friends growing up, and I certainly didn’t expect to be raising his kids, but it’s a fucking honor, you know? ”
The tight ball of emotion in my chest loosens ever so slightly. “Yeah,” I agree. “I know.”
“I came back from Germany to take care of my nephew when my sister was having some issues,” Eric says quietly. “Talk about shit not on a bingo card. Raising a teenager. But we do what we have to when the people we love need us.”
“Right.” I nod, and damn if that ball hasn’t shifted higher, making the backs of my eyes sting. This is about to get epically bad if I don’t pull my shit together. “The book club vibe,” I say, needing a subject change. “Are they really as close as they seem?”
Ian nods. “Sadie says the book club is the best thing that’s happened to her. Well, second best.” His smug-ass smile should be annoying, but it just makes me think about how lucky the bastard is.
“They’re tight,” Eric confirms. “Piper’s new to the group, but she’s one of them now. Which means, by extension, you’re one of us.”
The idea of that settles over me like a soft blanket. Piper’s life is becoming tangled with mine in ways that have nothing to do with the baby or our temporary nanny arrangement and everything to do with this town, these people, and the strange new normal I’m stumbling into.
“You doing okay with the whole instant dad thing?” Jake asks.
I take a long drink of my sparkling water, trying to decide how to answer that. I figure the truth is the way to go. “I have no fucking clue what I’m doing most days. But Piper’s great with Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“That’s a common theme around here,” Chase says with a laugh.
“You just show up and do your best,” Eric tells me.
I’m not sure I’ve got that part down, but damn I want to.
The conversation shifts to safer territory. Chase’s truck breaking down, the new brewery opening in town, and whether the Rockies have a shot at the playoffs this year (they don’t). It’s oddly normal, and I find myself relaxing into it.
“So,” Eric says after we’ve demolished most of the food, “you want to weigh in on the upcoming season? The Grizzlies’ chances and all that?”
I glance around the kitchen. They’re all watching me with varying degrees of interest. Eric is avidly curious, Chase politely attentive, Jake somewhere in between. Ian’s trying not to look too invested, which means he’s absolutely invested.
“For the record,” Jake adds, “We didn’t invite you here to grill you about football.”
“We invited you to take your money at cards,” Chase adds, deadpan.
“Good luck with that.” I’m grinning now, feeling the last of my tension drain away. “But I think we have a hell of a chance at going all the way, and I’m going to work my ass off to make sure the fans have something to cheer about.”
“Fuck yeah,” Eric says with a fist pump. “Now let’s play some poker.”
“The table’s already set up in the basement.” Jake grabs his beer and the remaining wings.
The guys file out of the kitchen, and I’m about to follow when Ian catches my arm.
“You good?” he asks quietly.
I look hard at my brother—at the contentment in his face, the peace that’s settled into the lines around his eyes.
He found a life beyond the noise of the pundits and the constant pressure to perform.
He repaired his relationship with Riva and found Sadie and this town in the process.
Now he has friends who actually give a shit about him, not just the quarterback he used to be.
“Is normal as awesome as it seems?” I ask, my voice rough.
Ian’s laugh reminds me of when we were kids. “Normal’s underrated, Felix. It took me a long time to figure that out, but it’s pretty fucking awesome once you do.”
“I can see that,” I say, thinking about Piper and Ellie. Feeding my sourdough starter and being on sandbox duty and the way my heart squeezes when Ellie snuggles into me. The best part of normal is coming home to people who know the real me, not just the wide receiver who makes highlight reels.
“You’ll get there.” Ian squeezes my shoulder. “You’re already closer than you think.”
From downstairs, Eric yells for us to hurry up before they start without us.
“Coming,” Ian calls back, then studies me for a few seconds. “You ready?”
I consider the question. Am I ready for poker with these guys who don’t expect anything from me except my company? Or am I ready for this new life that’s taking shape around me, whether I planned it or not? Maybe I’m ready to believe I could have something like what Ian’s found.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m ready.”
We head downstairs, where the others are already settled around a professional-grade poker table. Cards are shuffled, chips distributed, and trash talk initiated. A night like this is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
I love football and always will. I get off on the adrenaline of game day, the precision of a perfect route, and the roar of the crowd when I make an impossible catch in the end zone. The game is in my blood.
But I could also get used to normal.
Hell, I think I already am.
“Felix, you in or you gonna sit there daydreaming about Piper all night?” Ian asks, grinning like the asshole he is.
“Fuck off,” I say, tossing a chip into the pot. “And I’m all in.”
Eric raises an eyebrow. “Bold move for the first hand.”
“That’s how I play.”
And just maybe, it’s how I’m going to win.