Chapter 3
THREE
EDDIE
“Charlotte Elizabeth Phelps, I swear on all that is good and magical that if you don’t turn off your light, I’m going to be shipping you off to military school.”
Rather than fearing that threat, Lottie snorted and rolled her eyes. “Okay, Dad. Five more minutes.”
That was definitely not a question or a request. But it was way past my kiddo’s bedtime, and I’d be dealing with a grumpy ten-year-old come the morning if she didn’t do as she was told.
I counted to ten, thinking how similar parenting Lottie was to wrangling the college basketball players I coached during the summer.
Hormones, egos, and Michael Jordan complexes had nothing on my Lottie.
It was time to bring out the big guns.
“Two tickets are going to be canceled unless your head hits the pillow and darkness hits your eyeballs, and I’m not talking about my flight or my seat at the game.”
Wide eyes shot my way. “But Pearce needs me there.”
“He does?” Somehow I kept my face stoic and held back my wince, sure I was going to some sort of parenting hell for the threats, negotiations, and juggling I did with my girl.
“Of course he does.”
“If that’s the case, why am I standing in your doorway having this conversation, Lottie girl?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I promise to go to sleep right away.”
“You be sure to do that, kiddo. None of us want to be disappointed tomorrow.”
A second later, her TV was off and her notepad and pen placed on her side table, next to her already powered-down phone. Thank goodness for the parent control function for that damn thing.
Once she was snuggled down, I stepped fully into her room, and for the second time this evening, I tucked her in and kissed her goodnight. “Love you to the moon and beyond.”
I backed away after turning off her lamp, closing the door as she whispered, “Love you more.”
With the soft click of the door, I exhaled and smiled. I couldn’t really fault Lottie’s passion, not when it was one so close to my own. That pad she’d been scribbling away in was all things League related. The girl was only ten and was more hard-core than I ever was.
As I headed to my room with the plan to grab a quick shower, my phone rang. I hurried my steps to pick it up from the chest of drawers, barely holding back my groan when Wayne’s name flashed on the screen.
If that wasn’t enough of a reaction to tell me that something had to give… “Hey,” I answered, catching my sigh before it escaped.
“You sure you can’t come over?”
It was a good job Wayne hadn’t video called. My sneer and eye roll would have got a reaction and resulted in a fifteen-minute complaint from the man.
“Lottie’s in bed.”
“Perfect. She’s all tucked up and won’t even miss you.”
The fuck? I tightened my grip on my phone. “She’s ten,” I deadpanned.
“So more than old enough, right? You need to stop mothering that kid. Come here so you can get laid instead.”
This time there was no holding back my frustrated sigh.
For two years, I’d wasted my time on this man.
What the hell had I been thinking? Sure, it had been fun in the beginning, but I’d foolishly thought his selfishness was just a single-guy thing, something he’d lose, especially when he met Lottie.
Not that my girl was a miracle worker or anything. My misplaced thoughts were all down to me and my na?ve wishful thinking.
Heck, my foolishness didn’t even cut it.
I didn’t have the will to get into this with him now, though. Not only did I have an early flight to Minneapolis in the morning to watch Pearce’s game, but a couple of my investments had turned to shit with the downward turn of a couple of my stocks.
“I’m going to have to pass.”
“Fine.” The bite to the one-word response was unforgiving, and I didn’t give a shit. “Tomorrow then.”
Unbidden, I smirked, knowing exactly how he’d respond when I answered him. Jesus, it really was time I cut ties with the guy. “I have an early flight to Minneapolis in the morning. I won’t be back till late the day after.”
“Of course you have. When you’ve finished playing with your boy toy, I expect to hear from you… if you can drag yourself away from the attention whore.”
“Hey now,” I interrupted, pissed off at his bitchiness. He wasn’t usually this bad. Jealous for sure, but not like this.
“Of course you’ll jump in and defend Saint Pearce.”
Another frustrated breath escaped me. “Listen, we need to talk when I get back.”
In response, he grunted out a “Yeah, whatever. I hope your team sucks ass,” and the phone call cut off.
“Shit.” I stared down at my cell and flopped back on my bed, wondering how I got myself mixed up with the man in the first place.
While technically he was my boyfriend, last year, I’d half-heartedly agreed to an open relationship.
Not something I’d pursued or was especially keen on.
But hanging out with Wayne had times of being fun. In the beginning, at least.
Fuck. I stared up at the ceiling, knowing full well I’d been thinking with my dick.
Sex with Wayne had been easy and accessible.
Even though he could be a douche, he was safe.
There’d been no speaking out to gossip columns, though he was happy to play the part of doting boyfriend on the rare occasion a pap took notice.
But he’d never been enough. Not really. I just felt like a dick for going along with an easy lay for so long.
The loud burst of music from my phone made me jump. I fumbled with it, a frown already forming as I glanced at the screen. Immediately, it flipped into a smile, tension rushing out of me.
Pearce.
“Hey.”
“Hey, back. Whatcha doing?”
God, it was good to hear his voice. The man had the ability to chase away my frustration and unhappiness with just the curve of his smile or the cadence of a single syllable. “Just put Lottie to bed, then going to grab a shower.”
“Thank Christ. I can smell the stench from here. Lottie begged me earlier to make sure you hosed down. The shame of traveling with you tomorrow would have been too much for her. She was threatening legal action.”
I chuckled, breathing easier listening to his goofiness. “That right? What kind of legal action we talking? If there’s a good deal on the table…?”
“Oooh, you don’t want to mess with that girl’s plans. You’d be living on Spam and butter for the rest of your life.”
“Uhm… that’s quite a combination.”
“Right!” He laughed. “She’s an evil genius.”
“Uh-huh. But considering my girl wouldn’t recognize Spam if it landed on her plate and did a song and dance, I have a feeling you’re in on this and working out the terms.” I pulled myself up, adjusted my pillows, and leaned back, relaxing into the conversation.
“Conjecture.” He snorted. “Shit, is that even the right word to use?”
I grinned. “The hell if I know. What have you been getting into?”
“A couple of games of pool with the guys.”
“Please don’t tell me they took your money?” Pearce may have been a kick-ass basketball player, but his pool skills needed some work.
“Not at pool, but the assholes are aiming to make bank on a killer pot, apparently.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
Pearce stayed quiet for a beat before clearing his throat. “Uhm, nothing. Don’t worry about it. So, what time’s your flight?”
Brows dipping in confusion, I wondered why he was brushing off whatever he’d been talking about. A bet, I figured. It was unusual for Pearce to hold back. He said shit without thinking all the time. The outcome was usually hilarious and just a little endearing.
“Just after ten. We’ll need to be up about seven to beat the city traffic.”
“Good luck with getting that girl of yours outta bed, and on a Saturday too.”
“Don’t I know it. Though I expect knowing it’s because we’re visiting you, she’ll manage just fine.”
I could hear his grin as he said, “Aw, you see how awesome and loveable I am. It’s why I’m Lottie’s favorite.”
“Sorry,” I responded, an amused grin forming, “did you think I said visiting you? I said, watching the game. Cassius Britton is having one hell of a season. Lottie won’t stop talking about him.”
“Dude, take it back.”
“What?” Fizz bubbled in my gut as I spoke, the one-eighty in my emotions from speaking to Wayne to talking to Pearce enough to make my head spin and let happiness take over. “Just saying how it is.”
“You best be messing with me, man. Lottie’s my favorite girl. She’s my number one fan.”
Nothing but sweet feelings settled into my bones when he talked about my daughter. From the moment they’d met, not long after the end of the college summer training camp we both attended, they’d become thick as thieves.
It was good for teasing him mercilessly, letting him know they got on so well due to his maturity levels, or lack of. The truth was, Pearce was simply an all-round good guy. Arguably the best guy I knew.
Not for the first time, I wondered what would have happened if I’d been in a different head space three years back and had said yes to him when he suggested we hook up when we’d headed out to Australia for Ryan and Nate’s wedding.
The no had been hard to say and stick to.
But at twenty-six and with a couple of years of friendship already under our belt, Pearce had been too young, too in the thick of fame and the industry for me to be getting involved. Romantically, at least.
Plus, I hadn’t wanted to ruin what we had with a one-night stand.
Now, hell, I kinda wanted to kick myself for standing by my decision and playing the responsible card. Not that I regretted or didn’t dote on our friendship.
Pearce Malcolm was the most important man in my life.
“I suppose she may still hold that number one title,” I offered, taking pity on him and the sulky voice that had dragged his words low. “Speaking of, you all set for tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Yeah. The… uhm… guys are ready. What time did you say your plane was landing?”
Rather than challenge his doubt, I responded to his question. “Too late for you to meet us. The last thing you need to be worrying about is me and Lottie getting in. We’ll be in the crowd, cheering you on.”
“And we’ll catch up later, right? You won’t be dashing off?”
A soft smile lifted my lips, liking a lot that he wanted to spend time with us.
“We’ll be there, ready to celebrate.” At least I hoped that was the case.
If they won tomorrow’s game, they’d be heading for the playoffs.
Pearce may have been acting like the game wasn’t a big deal, but he’d trained hard for this moment, and being a seasoned pro and in a team that had finally been making movements in the League, he wanted this badly.
Which meant I wanted it for him just as much.
“Yeah, okay,” he said, chasing his words with a yawn.
“And on that note,” I said with a chuckle, “get your ass to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. See you tomorrow, Ed.”
“Will do. Rest easy.”
We ended the call, and I stared at the phone. Unable to resist, I opened my messages.
Me:
Lottie and I are going to have to share the #1 title. Tomorrow’s game, you’ll show me exactly why you’re worth it.
I hit Send, not sure if the text was too sweet, or dumb, or whatever, but I already knew Pearce was worth everything.