Chapter 27 Gabi #2
“Noted,” he says. “But I’m going to say I love you and hang up before you realize you didn’t take Maddox the Second or Maddox 2.0 off the table.”
It takes me a second to realize what he said. “Wait. What?”
“Night, Gabrielle! Sweet dreams! Love you!”
Oh this man…
What are your feelings on alliteration?
Out of all the text messages Maddox has sent me since we met, this has to be the most random of all. And that’s saying something. Especially because it’s the second week of camp, which I’ve been told is a big week in terms of play installment. Whatever that means but yay football!
In the right scenarios, the double letters scratch the right itch in the brain.
Good. So you aren’t opposed to baby names starting with the letter G?
Are you spending your lunch break thinking of baby names?
Yes. It’s a free country and this is my free time.
You’re sweet. I’m taking it you have a list already?
Oh gorgeous. Do I ever. Hold please.
“Are you texting your baby daddy? Is that why you have that shit-eating grin on your face?”
“Yes,” I say to Josie. “Sorry. I never know when he’s going to get a few minutes to text each day, so I try to make myself available when he does.”
“No need to apologize to me. If I was dating a Fury player you’d have to start a no cell phone rule in the kitchen.”
I don’t know Josie’s story. I know she’s a single mom with an eight-year-old. I know she had to have him young because she’s closer to Maddox’s age than me. But I know there’s no ring on her finger and in the near month she’s worked here, I’ve never heard her talk about a partner of any kind.
“You know I can arrange that,” I say, acting like I have any idea who any of his teammates are other than Linc and Wyatt. “Not all the Fury players are in relationships, you know. Oh! He has a camp roommate. New in town. A rookie who got drafted this year. Maybe we can set you up?”
That makes her laugh. “Sure. Tell Maddox—who by the way you need to tell me sometime how you snagged the hottest player in the league—that a single mom who’s twenty-six going on forty is looking for her happily ever after, but comes in tow with a chaos gremlin child.”
I wave her off. “The important question is do you like karaoke?”
That wasn’t the follow-up question she was expecting judging by her confused look. “Sure. Why?”
“That’s all I need to know.” I smile and furiously start texting Maddox. But before I can tell him my idea, I realize that during my conversation, he’s sent me a laundry list of names.
Okay, the first one are G names. The others are ones that are my current favorites. Please respond back to which ones you hate and/or love. Those ones will go in the notebook and advance to the second round:
Gabriel, Gunner, Gus, Garrett, Gary (ew no.), Garth (double no), Graham (Oh I like that one)
Non G names:
Baker (current favorite for obvious reasons), Liam, Levi, Shawn, Shaun, Sean, Buster (eh), Lincoln (guess who suggested that)
I have every intention of trying to play match maker for Josie, but right now I need to swoon. And use my veto powers.
All of those were off the top of your head?
Some. And I took a poll around the locker room today for suggestions. Those were the best of the bunch.
I like a few of them.
Yeah? Care to tell me which ones?
Let’s get rid of the bad ones first. All of the Shawns. Went to school with a Shaun. Justin’s best man actually. He was an asshole.
Noted and crossed off.
Also not a huge fan of Gunner.
Really? Why not? Sounds like a badass. “Coming onto the field, wearing the number his dad made famous for the Nashville Fury, Gunner Gallagher.”
I thought we weren’t forcing him to play football?
I’m not. But a guy can still dream, right?
Of course he can. Or maybe Sugar and Sweets will become a family business and our son will be the next great baker and franchise it out all over the country. Which is why I don’t know if we should name him Baker. Feels like we’re forcing him.
True. He needs a name that allows him to be whatever he wants to be.
Except named Gunner or Shawn.
Noted.
What about Noah?
You’re in your last day of camp and you’re texting me baby names still? I thought we were talking about this when you got home tomorrow.
We are. But I thought of that one and I didn’t want to forget it because I left my baby name notebook in my room.
You could’ve made a note.
True. Or I could text it to you so I know if it deserves a spot in the notebook.
I like it. Maybe a little too popular, but it can definitely go on the short list.
See. This is why I messaged you. And because I love you and miss you.
See you tomorrow? You’ll be home around noon, right?
Eleven fifty-five if I have my way. I can’t wait.
Same. I love you.
Love you more
“I’d roll my eyes if I wasn’t so happy for you.”
“Oh shush,” I say to Shelby as I heave myself up into her SUV. “Shouldn’t you be happy that not only did I listen to your advice, but your advice has me in a healthy and loving relationship?”
“I should, and I am, but I didn’t know it came with all this lovey-dovey, hearts-in-eyes, shit.”
“Well you better get used to it since you’re officially moving here!”
I do a happy dance—as much as I can do at twenty-nine weeks pregnant. I know I still have a ways to go, but holy shit how can I get bigger?
“Yay… I’m moving to Nashville…” I don’t know if Shelby could’ve said those words in a more dead-panned tone. “Get ready, Music City. Here I come…”
“Can I ask you a question?”
She turns out of the parking lot of the department store we were shopping at for cleaning supplies for her, and baby clothes for me. “Is it about me moving here?”
“Partly.”
“Then no.”
“Too bad,” I say, adjusting myself so I can watch her answer. Shelby plays things close to the vest, even with me and Hannah, so getting any read on her always helps when I know she’s going to want to hold back. “Why do you hate Nashville so much?”
It’s a question I’ve wanted to ask her for years. I remember when I told her I was following in Beau’s footsteps and going to Vanderbilt, I remember the scowl that crossed her face like I ran over her driver.
Which is a big deal. It’s her favorite club.
“I don’t hate Nashville per se,” she says, her knuckles becoming white as she grips the steering wheel. “It’s… the people.”
I wasn’t expecting that answer. “People? Who are people? Because I thought the only people you knew here were me and Beau?”
“Out of those two you’re the only one I like,” she says.
“Wait. Are you telling me that you don’t come here because of my brother?”
Her shoulders slump and she lets go of the wheel with her right hand to reach over and take mine. “I love you. I love you like the sister I never had. And it’s because of that love why I haven’t come here.”
“You’re going to have to explain yourself because I’m not following.”
She takes, then releases, a deep breath. “One day babe. I promise.”
I know Shelby well enough to know that I can keep prodding, but that’s only going to make her tell me less. “Are you going to tell me why you’re moving here at least?”
The fact that Shelby’s been so cagey with this reason has been driving me bonkers.
I didn’t press it before when it was still only a maybe that she was leaving Las Vegas, but now that she’s bought a house on the grounds of a premiere country club—and coincidently next door to my brother, though I don’t know if she knows that yet—I need to know.
“Let’s just say that me moving here can be classified under the category of desperate times calling for desperate measures.”
“That’s not cryptic at all.”
She shakes her head as she turns down my street. “The longer I don’t have to say it out loud, the longer I can pretend this isn’t my life.”
I drop the subject and Shelby and I sit in silence for the last few minutes of the drive.
I wish she’d confide in me—lord knows I’ve trauma dumped on her plenty of times over the years—but I know how she gets.
She’s guarded. Always has been. And rightfully so.
Her mom died when she was a baby and her father was a piece of work, and that’s the nicest way to describe him.
I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready. Whenever that may be.
Shelby turns the corner into my apartment building—the one that isn’t going to be mine after next week—when I notice something, or should I say, someone, standing in front of my car.
“What the…”
I sit up on the edge of my seat, the seatbelt struggling to keep me back, as I stare at Maddox, leaning against my car, holding a teddy bear and a dozen roses in his hand and wearing the biggest, and sexiest, smile I’ve ever seen.
“He wanted to surprise you,” Shelby says as she turns into a spot next to Maddox.
“Wait! You were in on this?”
“Of course,” she says with a soft smile. “You think I wanted to go shopping? When was the last time that ever happened?”
I unbuckle my seat belt so I can better wrap my best friend in a hug. “I know you aren’t happy about it, but I’m so glad you’re here now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, patting my back. “Now get out of here. Go get your man.”
I kiss her cheek, which makes her roll her eyes, before I grab my bags and start to open my door. But before I can, Maddox is opening it for me.
“Hey gorgeous. Miss me?”
I don’t say a word, instead I launch myself into him. How he catches me—belly and all—I’ll never know. All I know is the last thing I hear from Shelby is her laughter, the door shutting, before I kiss Maddox to make up for thirty days of not kissing him.
As he sets me to the ground, and our kiss that probably should’ve been saved for the privacy of my apartment, ends, all I can do is smile. Because I’m happy. So fucking happy.
I have Maddox and the baby.
I have my brother who gave me my dream.
I’m going to have my best friend with me for the first time in our adult lives.
I have everything I could ever want.