The False Start

1. Chapter 1

Is this it?

I don’t know what I was expecting when I boarded the plane to Hopeless—I mean Hope—Indiana, but it definitely wasn’t this.

When I go to double-check the house number on my phone, Mike's smiling contact picture with his wife, Olivia, mocks me. Wouldn't be surprised if he sent me to the wrong address as his final “fuck you” to me. Can't say I don’t deserve it.

I check the message, then glance at the number on the sleek, modern house to see if it matches.

Yup, this is it.

But I still can't believe that Zach Evans lives here. I know his girlfriend—my ex, by any other name—has expensive taste, but this shit… this shit is next level.

With a monstrosity of a fence and blacked-out windows, it's not exactly how I expected the Scholarship Kid to spend all of his NIL deal money. But hey, maybe I've given him too much credit over the years. He's clearly too dumb to realize that football money only lasts as long as he's healthy.

Shut up, Jamie. Stop being an asshole for once in your life and focus on what's important.

The girl behind that door. She's all that matters.

A very cute, blonde-haired little girl.

What's her favorite toy? Favorite color? Does she like to sing along to any songs? Is she talking yet? I don’t even know how old kids are when they start talking. Does she call Tiff Mama or Mommy? Does she call some other asshole Dada?

Questions run through my mind faster than I can process them. The same questions that have kept me up since I found out I have a daughter.

Three years too late.

For three years, she’s believed I didn’t give a damn about her, and now I've got to somehow prove I'm not the asshole everyone makes me out to be.

Kind of hard to dispute considering I spent my entire high school career playing up to that role.

Creak. CRACK.

My boot crushes through the snow as I take a step to the side when a delivery driver walks past.

I pretend to read something on my phone, not wanting to look too suspicious.

He presses the buzzer.

“Hello?” A sweet, feminine voice crackles through the speaker and it's her.

Tiffany Bright. I laugh bitterly to myself. Never did I think I'd ever breathe her name again, let alone find out she'd become everything even though she moved across the country to get away from me.

Well... sucks for her. I'm here now, ready to give up a borrowed legacy for a woman who doesn't want me and a child I've never met.

My child.

The gates open for the delivery driver, and I look around, checking no one's watching before slip in behind him. Once there, I hide behind a bush until the driver is gone.

Am I trespassing? Yes, but I don't have any other choice.

When the driver is gone, and the gate is shut, I take a few tentative steps toward the house with the ugliest porch I've ever seen. Who needs all that glass?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I take a step back, staring at the black wooden door as I exhale a shaky breath. With flowers in one hand and the other buried in my deep navy coat, I feel ridiculous.

What the hell am I doing here?

Groveling. Something I've never had to do before. Usually, my last name and money have gotten me everything I want.

Except her.

“Two seconds,” she calls, and I stumble back another step, nearly tumbling off the porch.

When the door opens, my breath catches.

Green eyes.

The same ones I got lost in that night. The same ones that have been haunting my dreams ever since.

I get it now. Why my parents never wanted me to see her again.

She’s everything without even trying. Effortless. The kind of beautiful that makes you forget how to breathe until she looks away.

She swallows hard, and for a moment, we just stand there, taking each other in.

“Mama, who is it?” a small voice pipes up. Tiny fingers clutch at Tiffany’s leggings, and then a face appears.

The little girl peers up at me with wide, curious eyes, and my chest feels like it’s caving in. She's the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen. Big green eyes, like her mother. Thick, blonde hair… like mine when I was a kid.

I scratch the back of my head and awkwardly thrust the flowers in Tiff's direction.

“Hey…it's Tiff, right?”

Tiff's cheeks flush, my clumsy words breaking her from our trance.

Then—

Bang!

The door slams in my face, so close I can smell the wood.

Well, that was predictable. Did I seriously think she’d run into my arms after everything?

“Hey, it’s Tiff, right?” I mock myself as I stand on the porch of a man I loathe. Why am I so mediocre? Why do I think my half-assed charm will ever convince the mother of my child to let me see our daughter?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I try again.

No answer.

I press my palm to the door, debating another knock.

Odds are, if Zach’s home, I’ll get my ass handed to me in about five seconds.

Since I can’t hear him stomping around, I figure she’s in there alone, probably peeking through the curtains, waiting for me to leave because she’s terrified of what I’ll do.

My stomach bottoms out at the thought. Me. She’s afraid of me, and it’s my own fault.

I guess it's time for Plan B.

Pulling an envelope from my pocket, I tape it to the door, making sure it won’t move. Then I turn and head back to my hotel with a heavy heart—one weighed down by the mess I made and the person I used to be.

It’s fair to say I've failed at most things I've attempted in life. I paid people to write my assignments, couldn't get off the bench at JV, cheated on my girlfriend for sport, and only got into Southern Collegiate because of my last name.

But that's who I used to be. It’s time I took some accountability. It’s time I got to know who my true family is.

This time, I’m going to make it work. I have to, because they deserve better, and so do I.