Chapter 23
BILLIE
“You, girl, are one hundred percent starting to show.” Kendra rests a palm over Jenna’s rounding stomach. “And I’m making the call right now—you’re having a boy.”
Darcy tuts from beside me, dropping her eyes to Jenna’s belly. “I actually think it’s twins. Whenever Tommy’s involved, a person would be naive to predict anything other than chaos.”
The way she delivers her statement in a thick British accent has me chuckling under my breath.
Sitting alongside these girls for the game was the most fun I’d had in months, each of them filling me in on stories over the past few seasons.
A personal highlight has to be Archer catching Collins and Sawyer going at it in Kendra and Jack’s infamous spare bedroom.
“It’s not twins.” Kate sidles up alongside Jenna, swishing a mass of silky blonde hair over her right shoulder.
“When I was three months pregnant with June and Will, I was already picking out maternity clothes.” She motions to Jenna’s stomach.
“This bump right here has all the hallmarks of a baby boy.”
Kendra smiles triumphantly. “Ooh … what will you name him?”
As the girls all continue to talk around the bar, my attention wanders to Dad and Emmett, deep in conversation a few tables away from where we are all standing. My eyes instantly find Emmett’s, and a wry smile tugs at his lips.
I want to know what he’s thinking, but trying to find a moment with him, where we can slip off and talk, is proving to be impossible.
“We so need to meet baby Blake!” Darcy’s animated voice pulls me back into the group.
“I’ll admit,” Collins says next, swirling mint leaves around in her mojito, “as far as babies go, Blake is probably one of the cutest I’ve seen.”
Kate snorts a laugh, her hand reaching out to rest on Collins’s forearm. “I remember when Will was born. I was kind of horrified at the state of his face when he popped out. It was all scrunched up. For a second, I contemplated asking the midwife to put him back.”
“Mom!”
Kate’s eyes flare wide as she registers her son’s voice.
Turning on her heel, she taps him on the shoulder. He’s taller than the average seven-year-old and he gets his stature from his dad.
“Take that back,” he demands, hands propped on his hips, attitude flowing from him—that part of his personality I’m almost certain originates from his mom.
She reaches down, pinching one of his cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “But look at you now, my love. The best-looking boy in Brooklyn.”
He rolls his eyes, a pink flush accentuating his dark hair. “That’s what Carly said in class the other day.”
I chuckle while Kate scolds her son for kissing girls two years older than him.
“Hey, Bill.” Dad’s hand lands on my shoulder. “I’m going to head home in a second.”
My stomach drops. He’ll need me to drive us both, and I haven’t had a chance to speak with Emmett.
Balancing himself on one crutch, Dad thumbs over his shoulder toward the Blades goalie, Archer. He’s standing by the exit, arms folded across his chest, and randomly, he’s looking pretty pleased with himself.
“Archer is going to give me a ride back home so you can stay out with everyone.” Warmth creases around the corners of his eyes.
“You haven’t had a night away from Blake since she was born, and I want you to have a chance at making friends.
Mom and I will drop Blake back at your place in the morning. ”
I shake my head at him, panic swelling in my gut. “She can’t be without me for a whole night. How is she going to feed? What if she cries for me and I’m not there?”
Like he anticipated this exact reaction, he just smiles wider. “We still have a ton of your expressed milk in the freezer, and Blake is used to taking a bottle.”
My head continues shaking, but he nods his at the same time. “Yes, Billie. You need to start living your life, and Emmett will make sure you get home safely.”
When my eyes connect with Emmett’s, he’s already making his way over to us.
Excitement sparks inside me, the fizz of his presence intensifying with every step he takes toward us.
“I want you to call me the second she cries or even looks like she might need me,” I tell him, still really unsure over his plan.
Dad’s already backing toward Archer, giving me a thumbs-up and a confident smile as he leaves.
And then I’m face-to-face with Emmett, anxiety swirling inside me for a whole different reason when I take in the way that he’s looking at me.
“Have you got a second to talk?”
My mouth runs dry, throat scratchy. “What’s the matter?”
When Archer and Dad exit the players’ lounge, Emmett points toward a random door set at the back of the room. “In there, we can talk in private.”
With the whole group deep in conversation, no one notices or questions us when we reach the door and enter into a darkened room.
Emmett flicks on a light to reveal a second bar area before closing the door behind him.
It feels cold in here, or maybe that’s a feeling of dread as Emmett comes to stand in front of me.
I might be young, but I know the look of someone when they’re about to tell you something you likely don’t want to know.
Tucker wore a similar expression when he told me that he was backing out of the rental property we were supposed to be moving into.
“You don’t need to say anything.” I get there first, determined not to hear what he’s about to say.
He links his fingers through mine, and I look away, staring blindly at the empty high stools set around a closed-off bar.
“Look at me, Billie.” His voice is steeped in turmoil, reflecting the emotions charging through me.
“I’m not ready to look at you,” I volley back, swallowing my upset. “And I don’t want to hear whatever it is you’re going to tell me.”
“Billie.”
“Nope,” I stubbornly reply.
Emmett takes my other hand, gently squeezing my fingers between his. “I can stand here all night if that’s what it takes.”
I suck in a sharp breath, eyes still averted. “Good.”
Dropping one of my hands, Emmett’s callous palm cups my right cheek, swiveling my head to look at him. “Why good?”
While he might be able to control the position of my head, I retain the right to look where I want, which is still directly at the bar.
Finally, my gaze meets his soft gray eyes as they study me intently.
“Because if you stay here all night, then you won’t be able to put any distance between us,” I whisper.
I watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs, and it’s all the confirmation I need. That’s precisely why Emmett asked me in here.
“Is it because of what I saw last week?” I ask.
Emmett’s jaw clenches, tendons working overtime. “No. It’s because I never should have been fantasizing about you in the first place.”
Despite everything, excitement buzzes through me; the image of Emmett stroking himself and the sound of my name leaving his lips are burned into my memory forever.
“Is my dad onto us?” I fire another question at him, wondering if that’s what’s pushed him to feel this way.
“No,” Emmett repeats. “I’m backing away because it’s the right thing to do.
For you and for Blake especially.” His hand descends to grip my chin, eyes briefly falling to my mouth.
“The train we’re riding right now is destined for disaster, Billie.
The more times I’m around you, the harder it is for me to keep my hands where they should be—by my sides and not running through your hair or holding your chin like this, desperate for all of your attention. ”
A delicious shiver runs down my spine, butterflies swarming my stomach.
“I wish …” He squeezes his eyes shut before snapping them open and focusing on the door we just walked through.
“I wish I’d met you earlier in my life, and I wish our situation were as simple as it is for so many of my teammates and their partners.
” He sets his eyes back on me. “But it isn’t, and I refuse to make your life any more complicated than it already is. ”
“You don’t have to leave my life,” I plead, a sob bursting to break free.
He releases my other hand, both palms now cupping my face. “Oh, Billie. Don’t you get it?”
He rests his forehead against mine, and the first tear hits my cheek. I didn’t want to cry, but his words contradict his body language. None of this makes any sense—or at least, I don’t want to believe that it does.
He heaves a huge breath into his lungs, and then his long exhale fans my face with his addictive scent. “Putting myself first and doing all the things I want with you will inevitably lead to me losing you forever.”
“It won’t,” I protest.
“It will,” he counters, wrapping his huge arms around me.
I cling to him like a koala, burying my face in his white dress shirt.
“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met; don’t tell me you can’t see what will happen because I know you can. If Scott didn’t murder me, then he’d definitely never let me near you again.”
“He doesn’t own me,” I force out. “I’m my own person, and so are you.”
Emmett hooks his finger under my chin. “There’s fourteen years between us. You want to be with someone your age. A guy who can race around the yard with Blake, a man who isn’t slowing down when you’re just getting going.”
He means none of this; it’s all bullshit.
“And what if you want more kids? I’m an old man, remember? Born in the days when they still had wooden money.”
He chuckles, but I don’t return it. I’m too fucking mad at him for spouting crap.
Maybe he can sense my frustration because he wraps his hands underneath my ass before walking us across to the empty bar top. He sets me down on the counter and steps between my legs.
We’re perfect kissing height, not that it matters.
I’m twisting my hands around, but Emmett stops my fidget with a firm palm.
“I don’t know what this is between us, Bill, but I do know that if we don’t get out now, then we’re going to end up doing or saying something that we can’t undo.
You mean so much to me; you light up my goddamn world when we’re in the same room.
I care for you and Blake, and if stepping back is the only way I can keep you both in my life, then that is what I’ll do.
Even if it breaks me, I’ll hold it together so I can keep you in some form. ”
“You’re already eliminating me from your life.” My words sound choked.
He doesn’t have an answer for me, and that’s because there truly isn’t one. The odds are stacked against us, even before we’ve gotten a chance to explore what this is.
Emmett pulls his glasses off, setting them on my face. My vision turns blurry, but I can still make out the pained smile as it tugs at his lips.
“I wish you could see what I do, Billie. How amazingly beautiful you are. In a few months, this will be something you look back on, and you’ll be happy that we took the route we did.”
“You don’t want to back away from us,” I challenge, handing his glasses back to him.
He twiddles them around between his fingers, eyes dropping to the floor as he scuffs the ground lightly with his shoe. “It doesn’t matter what I want. This is all about doing the right thing for my girls.”