11. Chapter 11
Children bustle around me as we stand on the recreational soccer field, their voices high and bright as they toss a few footballs and chase each other. Ella squeezes my hand, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Can I go be like Uncle Zach, Mommy?” she asks.
“In a minute, baby,” I promise, scanning the park for what feels like the hundredth time. “Let's wait just a little longer, okay?”
“Okay.”
My nerves are shot as I smile at a few parents I’ve seen at other classes before, but I don’t go up to them. Today’s focus is on Jamie potentially meeting Ella. A thought that sends a shiver straight up my spine.
Am I happy about this? I have no idea. I’m definitely nervous, and I couldn’t sleep last night because I was agonizing over the decision.
Should I let her meet him? Yesterday, it felt like I had no other choice. The things he told me, the way he looked at me… I just… I couldn’t say no.
Family. He called her—me—his family, and as much as my brain is telling me to keep my guard up, my heart can’t.
All this time, I thought that night meant nothing to him. That I was just another notch on his belt and Ella was a minor inconvenience to him, but that’s not true. He came looking for us the second he could, and I can’t deny him the chance to meet his daughter, even if it terrifies me.
I thought this class would be the best place for them to meet. It’s open, easy, and with Ella off working with the coaches, she’ll have the space to settle in while Jamie finds his footing too.
When the session starts, some of the dads even like to step in to help. That gives Jamie the opportunity to interact with her without the pressure of too much talking, but maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.
I should probably introduce them first.
Shit. How do I even introduce Ella to Jamie? I can’t call him her father yet, can I? No. No, of course not. He needs to earn it, and as much as I believe he wants to, I need actions more than fancy words now.
God, I hope he’s not playing me because I will feel like the biggest fool if he is.
My eyes flick toward the parking lot checking for Jamie, but when I see a familiar figure instead, I freeze.
“Reese?” I whisper, and he lifts a hand in a lazy wave before shoving both hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.
Ella follows my gaze and squeals with delight. “Reese is here!”
“That he is,” I murmur under my breath, my stomach flipping. As if talking to Jamie wasn’t enough of a minefield. Now I get to do it with Reese watching. Perfect.
He reaches us with that easy, unbothered smile of his and immediately crouches down to high-five Ella.
“Hey there, Football Star. You ready to kick some serious butt today?”
Ella beams. “I’m gonna score five touchdowns!”
“I bet you are.”
I cross my arms, trying not to sound as thrown as I feel. “What are you doing here?”
Reese straightens, raising his hands. “I’m not stalking you, I promise,” he says, his tone a little sheepish. “I’m a coach, and it’s part of the outreach program I’m in.” There’s a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck. “I honestly had no idea you were coming today.”
I wince, thrown off by the guilt in his voice. “It’s okay.”
He points a thumb over his shoulder. “I can see if one of the other coaches wants to switch classes with me. There are a couple here for the older session.”
“No. No. Why would you do that?” I ask, trying to sound normal, but feeling anything but.
He drops his hand and lets out a little breath of hesitation. “I don’t know. Just seemed like you maybe didn’t want me here.”
And that statement alone makes me feel like shit.
“No. I want you here. Ella does too,” I blurt. It’s too fast. Too eager. My chest tightens with worry because how the hell do I explain to the guy who kind of asked me out this week that Ella might be meeting her biological father today?
“Uncle Zach!” Ella shouts, her voice cutting through the field. I whip around, and then my stomach hits the fucking floor.
Zach is here, too?
Zach is here, and—
Oh. Oh no.
Zach is here with Jamie.
My brain short-circuits trying to make sense of the image in front of me.
Zach, my ride-or-die cousin, and Jamie, the man whose name I’ve barely been able to say out loud for four years, are walking side by side.
Not just coexisting. Not even arguing. Walking.
Like some unholy truce has been called, and I was never given the damn memo.
I freeze. My breath gets stuck somewhere between my ribs and my throat as dread seeps through my veins.
This wasn’t the plan. This was never the plan.
I hadn’t even told Zach Jamie was here. I was still fumbling for the right words, trying to figure out how to soften the blow for the man who’s been the only father figure Ella has ever known.
Zach catches my eye while I clutch Ella’s water bottle as though it’s going to save me. His eyes go dark.
Disappointment. Betrayal. Anger.
It’s all I see, and shame slithers up my spine. So much so that I could violently vomit right now and my stomach would still be churning.
I didn’t talk to him. I should’ve talked to him. I should’ve known that the secret would come out. I can’t keep anything from him.
“There’s my favorite girl!” Zach calls out, crouching just in time to scoop Ella into his arms as she launches herself toward him. He lifts her effortlessly, settling her on his hip like he hasn’t just discovered the most explosive secret I’ve ever kept.
He angles his body, subtly but deliberately blocking Jamie from Ella’s line of sight. A line he’s clearly decided Jamie doesn’t get to cross.
“Are you excited for your class?” he asks her brightly.
“Yes!” Ella beams. “I wanna throw the ball like those guys!”
She points to the coaches, completely oblivious. Pure joy, pure light. My daughter is untouched by any of this, even though I’ve officially lost control.
Zach is here. Jamie is here. And oh, because apparently, I haven’t suffered enough, Reese is still standing awkwardly by my side, watching it all unfold.
Right. Reese. Sweet, warm, safe Reese. Who’s here because of course he trains kids in his spare time. He’s just that kind of guy.
Panic blooms in my chest like a bomb going off in slow motion.
This is a disaster. I orchestrated this whole thing to be calm. Controlled. One-on-one, and now I’m standing in the middle of a crowded field—my past staring me down, my self-appointed bodyguard planted at his side, and the only man who’s dared to ask me out since Ella was born standing at mine.
Zach laughs. “You’ve got the Evans genes in you, babe. You’ll throw farther than any kid here. I promise you.”
Reese’s voice is low as he leans in, just enough that I feel the warmth of him without it being obvious.
“Tiff—who is the guy awkwardly kicking dust behind Zach?”
His tone isn’t accusing, but it carries weight. His eyes flick toward Jamie, lingering for just a second too long.
I open my mouth, then close it again, suddenly aware of how wildly unprepared I am to answer that question.
“I—it’s complicated,” I finally say, barely able to look at him.
Reese holds my gaze for a long beat. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t need to. I can feel how much I’ve already said without saying anything. He knows something is going on, but he’s probably got the wrong idea.
Zach’s voice cuts through the tension. He’s crouched beside Ella now, pointing at a football she’s just barely managing to hold in both of her hands.
“Come on, man,” he calls out to Reese. “You’re the coach here, not me.”
Ella claps her hands and beams. “Reese, can you show me how to catch?”
Reese throws me one last glance before jogging over to them. “You got it, superstar.”
Zach sets the ball down in front of her, tapping it with the side of his shoe. As Reese approaches, Zach lifts his chin and gives Jamie a long, unreadable look. It’s not a threat, not exactly—but it’s a warning all the same.
“I’m watching you,” he says loud enough for us to hear before working with Ella.
Jamie’s still standing slightly behind me, but he doesn’t respond to Zach. Neither do I. Instead, I watch Ella for a few seconds, happy that she’s… happy.
Jamie shifts his weight, and, when he comes into view, he clears his throat.
I force myself to meet his gaze and take in those devastatingly dark eyes that look just as pretty as the night I first met him.
Every memory. Every emotion I felt from that night comes flooding back, and I hate that I feel butterflies. I shouldn’t be feeling anything like this. I don’t have the mental bandwidth to deal with how hot I still find my baby daddy.
“Hey,” I manage, my voice sounding a little too cracked and unsure.
Jamie’s lips twitch as though he’s tamping down a smile. “Hey.”
It’s just one word, but it settles deep in my bones, grounding me completely. He showed up like he said he would, and being in his presence feels nowhere near as intimidating as when his father would sit across from me.
No. There’s something inherently different about the two of them, and I guess now that I know he’s adopted, it kind of makes sense.
“I’m sorry I’m late. My professor kept me back, and then I bumped into Zach, and, well, I’m sure you can imagine how that went down.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “Well, your face is intact, so that’s already better than I expected.”
Jamie huffs a laugh, scratching the back of his neck.
“Yeah, he must’ve decided I wasn’t worth bruising his knuckles over.
Either that or he figured public murder would tank his draft stock.
” He glances at me sideways, lips twitching.
“Lucky for me. I don’t exactly have a great track record with being worth the effort. ”
The self-deprecation catches me off guard. The Jamie I remember, granted, from one admittedly hazy night and Honey's stories, wasn't exactly known for his humility.
I point my thumb toward the bleachers. “We should probably grab a seat—looks like they’ll need the field soon.”