Chapter 11
There are not enough ice packs in the world for this situation.
Nolan
My phone rings and I grab it from the coffee table.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Nolan, how are you?”
“Good,” I say automatically despite my shoulder killing me.
I should be in bed. Practice was tough today and tomorrow won’t be any easier. But I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep. And I refuse to use sleeping pills.
“You’re up late.”
I chuckle. “And yet you’re calling me.”
“Well…um…”
Shit. I know what her stuttering means. “What does he want?”
“To speak to you.”
“Tough shit.”
“Here he is.”
Naturally, she doesn’t listen to my wishes. My mother is the sweetest woman in the world. She’s also a pushover when it comes to my dad. She gives him everything he wants without question. Without considering the damage it does to her children.
“Son,” Dad begins and I growl. He’s never been a dad to me. How dare he refer to me as his son?
I want to hang up, but it won’t do any good. Mom will guilt trip me for refusing to speak to Dad. And Dad will yell at me for hurting Mom. I don’t care about Dad yelling at me, but I don’t want to hurt my mother.
“What do you want?” I manage to ask between grit teeth.
“How’s training camp going? How’s your shoulder holding up?”
I glance at my shoulder – at the ice melting on the table – and flat out lie to him. “I’m fine.”
“You still hungry? You’re not getting distracted on that island, are you?”
My mind immediately goes to Terri. I was looking forward to seeing her this morning, but she rushed out of breakfast with her hand slapped over her mouth. I hope she’s not sick. She works too hard. She’s always taking care of everyone else at the resort. Who takes care of her?
“Your job right now is football. Everything else comes after.”
I snort. After? The way it came after for him? By the time he gave up on ever winning the Super Bowl and decided he should spend some time with his family, I was in high school and had learned how to survive without a dad.
“Nice talk. I need to get to sleep.” I hang up before he can respond.
I throw my phone on the table before standing. I might as well get some fresh ice for my shoulder. I won’t be sleeping anytime soon.
I make my way downstairs to the training room. Since it’s late, it’s dark and deserted. I flip on the lights.
I grab some ice and sit down to wrap it around my shoulder.
“Hello!”
I glance over my shoulder. Terri is standing at the entrance to the room. She’s pale and has bruises under her eyes.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
She rolls her eyes before stepping inside. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?”
I grunt. “Couldn’t sleep.”
She comes closer. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
I frown. I’m sitting here without a shirt on, holding an ice pack to my shoulder. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Her eyes flare as her gaze rakes over my chest. When she notices my shoulder, her eyes widen. “Your injury?”
I shrug and end up wincing.
“Let me help.” She picks up the wrap. I press the ice against my shoulder while she winds the wrap around the joint to secure it.
Despite the ache in my shoulder, I enjoy having her near. Her hair falls forward and drapes over me. I nearly moan at how silky it feels. I’d love to fist it in my hand while ravishing her mouth and enjoying her taste. Does she always taste of strawberry?
My cock twitches. Shit. I need to stop this train of thought before I end up aching in a way only she can help.
“You’re pretty good at this.”
She sighs and steps back. I fist my hands before I reach for her and set her on my lap. Before I remind her how good we can be together.
“You wouldn’t believe how many injuries I deal with in my job.”
“But you’re an event planner.”
“Yep. And rich people are crazier than pirates snagged by a siren’s spell.”
I chuckle. “Only rich people?”
She waves away my question. “Are you okay now? Do you need any painkillers?”
“I’m fine.”
“How are you playing with this injury?”
“How do you know I’m playing?”
Her cheeks darken and she ducks her chin. “I saw you.”
Warmth spreads through me. Terri wants me. But I’m off limits. Because of her boss. And I’ve been an asshole. Pressuring her to date me for my own selfish wants and desires when she’s a professional who doesn’t want to hurt her career. I understand not wanting to hurt your career.
“I need to apologize.”
Her head whips up. “Apologize? What did you do? If you flooded your bathroom, it’s not my department.”
“My bathroom is fine. I meant apologize for pressuring you to date me. I thought because you broke the rules once, it wasn’t a big deal for you to break them again. I didn’t listen to your concerns. I’m sorry. I won’t pressure you anymore.”
“It’s not as if I can avoid you now anyway,” she mutters.
My gaze sharpens. “What?”
She exhales a harsh gust of air. “I need to tell you something.”
My pulse quickens. “What is it?”
“I… ah…”
She slams a hand over her mouth and darts out of the room. What the hell? I chase after her. I follow her straight into the women’s restroom. It’s empty but if it weren’t, I wouldn’t give a fuck. Terri’s sick. She’s all that matters now.
She falls to her knees and heaves into the toilet. I gather her hair and hold it back for her. I rub circles into her back as she empties the contents of her stomach.
When she finishes, I stand and get her a glass of water.
“Here.” I hand her the water.
She swigs the water around her mouth before spitting into the toilet.
“You’re sick. You shouldn’t be working. Do you want me to drive you home?”
She waves away my question. “I’m not sick.”
“I literally watched you puke your guts out in a toilet,” I grumble.
She sighs. “I’m not sick. I’m pregnant.”
I rear back. The sudden, unexpected movement has my shoulder protesting but I ignore it. “You’re what?”
“Pregnant. With baby. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. In the family way. Got a tiny smuggler aboard. Growing a future pirate.”
“And it’s my baby? I mean I assume it’s my baby. Why else are you telling me?”
I thread a hand through my hair as I pace the rest room. Holy shit. I’m going to be a dad.
A dad? I don’t know how to be a dad. My dad wasn’t around when I was a kid. He claimed football and parenthood didn’t go together. And yet he didn’t have a problem knocking Mom up every chance he got.
“It’s okay,” Terri says and I swivel toward her. “You don’t have to be involved.”
“Not be involved? We’re discussing my kid.”
“Which was created during a one-hour stand. We’re not in a relationship. We barely know each other. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“I’m not abandoning my child.” I won’t let my child grow up the way I did. Thinking he wasn’t loved. Thinking he was second place to football.
Don’t get me wrong. I love football. I’ll do anything to win the Super Bowl this season. But I don’t need to abandon my child to accomplish my goals.
She studies my face. “You’re not questioning whether this is your child.”
It wasn’t a question but I answer it as one anyway. “No, I’m not.”
“But we used a condom, and I’m on the pill.”
“Accidents happen.”
Her brow wrinkles. “You don’t think I’m lying? That I got pregnant on purpose to trap you?”
I rear back. “What are you talking about? You’re Terri Jordan. You won’t date me. You run the other way every time you see me coming.”
“I wouldn’t say run away,” she mutters.
“You’re not trying to trap me. You’re not interested in my fame.”
“Huh. For someone who doesn’t know me, you figured me out pretty quick.”
“I’ve been a quarterback in the NFL for over a decade. I can spot a gold digger a mile away.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I bet you can.”
My lips purse. “I’m not a player.”
She cocks her eyebrow. “And you didn’t convince me to shed my clothes within an hour of meeting you either.”
“I didn’t expect what happened in the closet to happen, but I’m glad it did.”
“Even now?”
She places a hand over her belly where her baby’s growing. Where our baby is growing. My heart pounds against my chest. I’m going to be a dad. Fucking hell. How can I be a dad and chase my Super Bowl dream?
I’ll figure it out. I’m not giving up on being a Super Bowl Champion. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am. And where I am is this close.
“Even now,” I confirm despite the fear rolling through my veins.
“We…” She trails off when the door opens and a gaggle of women enters.
This is not a conversation to be had with an audience. I help Terri to her feet. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow. I’ll be at your place after practice.”
She starts to protest but I place a finger over her lips. “We need to talk.”
I wait for her to nod before removing my finger. I kiss her forehead. “Now, do you need a ride home?”
“I’m good.”
“If you’re sure…”
She pushes me away. “I’m fine.”
I hesitate. She was throwing her guts up a few minutes ago. I don’t want to leave her. But the women are now staring at us. When one of them opens their phone and aims it our way, I turn away and walk out of the restroom.
Terri isn’t a secret, but I’m not exposing her or our child to the press. We can’t avoid the press forever. But for now, this is our business. No one else’s.