Chapter 19
“So,” Dax says, leaning against the doorframe. “If you’re planning on living here permanently, you’re gonna have to start doing boyfriend chores like taking out the trash, pretending to listen when I talk about my feelings, and telling me I’m pretty when I leave the apartment.”
“Believe me, you don't want me as your boyfriend. I get a little obsessive,” I say, folding my freshly washed socks and putting them in my drawer.
He chuckles. “Wow. Living here three days and already gaslighting me because you’re emotionally unavailable. This relationship is moving fast.”
“That’s not on me,” I say. “You spent twenty minutes last night relaying your feelings about how the designated hitter rule ruined baseball.”
“Because that’s how I feel. I'm still processing the implications of it.” He puts a hand to his chest. “I have layers, Zach.”
I close the drawer and open the next one. He stays in the doorway, watching me unpack with the energy of a man who has absolutely nowhere to be and is at peace with that. I can’t be mad at him. Save for the accidental slip he had with Coach, he’s had my back the entire time I was away.
“Okay, real talk,” he says, taking a step into the guest room.
He heads toward the bed, pushing aside two of my bags before making himself comfortable.
“For a guy sitting on a forty-million-dollar contract, you're very committed to folding your own laundry in my guest room instead of looking for the fanciest pad Rome, Georgia has to offer.”
“Yeah, well, after getting yelled at by Coach for the better part of two hours after practice, I'm sure you can understand why I might not be in the mood to go searching for houses.”
He lets out a low whistle. I’m sure he heard the things Coach Masters said to me. I’m sure the entire team did.
“You think talent carries you? It doesn’t. Not when your head’s this far up your own ass. I’ve seen backups with more discipline than you, and we’re paying forty million dollars for this.”
Yeah, the words stung, but he was right to yell at me.
I put myself before this team, and he doesn’t know me well enough to believe that was an anomaly. I will work, and even though I missed a week and a half of team bonding, I’ll make up for it.
Dax tilts his head so he can look at me. “Yeeeah,” he says slowly, gauging my reaction, no doubt. “That wasn’t great. I guess Reese didn’t tell you that Coach Masters can get a little... unnecessarily personal.”
I take a little longer to pair my socks, my jaw clenching just a little. Yeah, he did say some things he can't take back, but I'm not here to be best friends with Coach. I'm here to prove that I can lead this team to some kind of victory, and that's what I'm going to do.
“I'm waiting for the realtor to get back to me,” I say as a way to get off the topic of Coach.
“And for the record, I don't just have that money lying around. It's mostly tied up for the next four years.” I pair a few more socks before stuffing them into the drawer. “And some of that isn’t guaranteed because it’s related to performance bonuses.”
“Yeah,” he drawls. “But you did get a signing bonus.” He points at me. “And don't you dare tell me you didn't, because I got one, and I was second-round pick. In fact, I think the only reason I even got drafted with the Raptors is because you mentioned you liked me.”
“You’re right on both parts.”
Not that I’d ever admit it to them, but having Reese and Dax here has made the transition across the country easier. Especially since I have no idea where Honey is going to be after the end of the week.
My lips quirk just thinking about her.
This.
This is what she does to me without even realizing. She makes my day so fucking better just by thinking about her.
“Is that why you chose to live in my guest room instead of Reese's?” He holds his hand to his chest. “Because you love me?”
“If I loved you, you'd know. I'm not exactly subtle.”
He barks out a laugh. “You're right about that. You’re about as subtle as a billboard when it comes to Honey.” The thought makes him pause, and his eyes start to scan the area as though he's coming to some realization. “Wait, are you not settling because you want to pick out a place with Honey?”
I don't answer immediately, which is its own answer.
Another self-satisfied laugh. “Zach.”
“She's going to move in. Eventually.”
“Eventually? Dude, I love you like a brother, so I'm going to be honest. You chased her for literal years, then the second she gave in, you left her stranded on a cruise.”
“That's not how it went down, and you know it.”
He doesn't know I left her engagement ring with her, or that I've proposed more times than I can count, but those details don't change the outcome.
“Have you spoken to her?” he asks a little more thoughtfully.
“Just a couple of texts,” I say casually, even though it’s killing me inside.
It’s only been three days, but giving her space is so fucking hard.
“She'll come around. Everyone knows your endgame.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, not sure if I believe it anymore.
“But, since we're on the fact that your dick won't get hard for anyone else except Hunniford Sanderson, I've got a question for you.”
“What?”
“That photoshoot you're doing in a week,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “That's with that golfer, Whit Marlow, right?”
The way he says her name piques my interest. I glance over at him. “Yeah? Why?”
He offers me a sly smile. “Cool. Cool.”
“What do you want?”
He scrunches his face. “Nothing.”
“Dax,” I warn.
“Fine. Nothing major, but if she happens to ask if you have any hot friends, can you give my number instead of Reese’s? I know he was nearly your brother-in-law, or whatever, but I feel like it's my turn to get some love.”
“Reese was never nearly my brother-in-law.”
“That's what you think because you didn't see the way he was looking at Tiff. He tried to act cool when he was around you. When he was around me and talking about her—” he blows out a breath. “—he looked like that melting smiley face emoji.”
“Reese will get over it. I don’t need to set the man up on multiple dates to get him to play better.”
Dax raises his hands. “I’m just saying, even if you might feel a little guilt over that, I'm asking—no begging—for you to pick me if Whit asks.”
I narrow my eyes. “Whit Marlow? Really?”
He nods enthusiastically.
“You'd want to date a girl like her? She seems a little intense for a guy like you. I don’t mean that in a bad way. It's just... well, game recognizes game.”
He shrugs. “Yeah? Good. I’ve always wanted a woman who looks like she could ruin my life and build it back together at the same time.”
I shake my head. “You’re an idiot.”
“Most optimists are, but on the off chance she asks, just let her know I'm here and am very interested.”
“Fine. If it comes up and she asks for a football player’s number, I’ll make sure she gets yours.”
He raises his hands and smiles. “That's all I ask.” Then he pushes off the bed. “Now, if you're done brooding about Coach and Honey, Reese is coming over in an hour if you want to watch the game with us. The Fish are on fire this season since Tate Sorenson dressed up as the mascot.”
“Interesting,” I say, in the flattest voice I can, since it is in fact, not interesting at all.
By the time he leaves, I’m closing the last drawer and sitting on the edge of the bed in Dax’s guest room.
My place for now.
It’s fine and easier than buying another home, expecting Honey to fall in love with it.
When my phone rings, I scramble to pick it up in the hopes that it's Honey.
Tiff Calling...
My shoulders slump, but I’m not too disappointed. I haven’t talked to Tiff or Mike since coming off the cruise.
“Hey,” I say as I click accept on the video call.
“Uncle Zach!” Ella smiles with wide eyes.
“Hey, Ellie-Bear. How are you?”
“Good,” she says, bouncing a little. “Uncle Zach, we're going on a trip soon.”
“I heard,” I say. “It's to a big beach, right?”
“With fish. Mama says I can look at them underwater.” She pauses, taking in the gravity of the situation. “And I'm getting a hat.”
“What kind of hat?”
“A big one.”
“Obviously. Nothing less.”
“Ellie-Bear, can I talk to Uncle Zach too?” Tiff asks, and there's a small scuffle before Ella disappears out of frame, already halfway into whatever adventure she’s imagined for herself.
Tiff settles in front of the camera, glancing over her shoulder as Ella runs around in the background.
“She's been like this since we told her about the trip on Tuesday,” she says happily. “She packed a bag yesterday, planned her swimming itinerary, and created a checklist over all the fish she wants to see. We leave in a week.”
“Tell her the fish aren't going anywhere.”
“I did. She doesn’t believe me.” Tiff huffs out a quiet laugh. “It’s her first beach trip, and she’s never been to Hawaii. She’s more excited about this than she was for the wedding.”
“That sounds about right.” I chuckle when I see her dancing on the sofa behind her. “She could meet a mermaid on this trip.”
“Are there mermaids?” Ella asks with a gasp.
Tiff’s eyes widen. “I, uh, don’t know, Sweetheart. We’ll have to look out for them.”
“There are,” I whisper, giving Tiff a wink. “At the hotel.”
When I booked it, I made sure they had ‘mermaids’ because I wanted it to be magical for Ella.
Tiff mouths ‘Thank you,’ to me. Her smile lingers for a second, then it softens.
“Zach....” she starts. “This trip—”
I already know where this is going. “You don’t need to—”
“No.” She shakes her head, cutting me off this time. “Let me finish, because you never let anyone thank you or take credit for anything.”
I lean back a little because I hate this part.