35. Archer
ARCHER
Allie
Call me when you’re done for the night?
I read over the message from Allie one more time as I pull on a pair of underwear before I grab my duffle bag and toss it onto my bed.
I just finished the third day of the professional combine in Vegas, and I’m on top of the fucking world. I had a seventy-percent pass completion while participating in a series of seven-on-seven drills today. The best I’ve ever had, and every goddamn team league had their eyes on me while I did it.
Thankfully, Colton was out there with me, and I felt a little less like a fish inside a bowl.
It was easier to channel the thrill of the game when sharing the field with him—it’s comforting.
In the past four years in Texas, I was rarely on the field without him, he was my right-hand man and my number one receiver, so having him with me as we enter the draft has been a safety blanket.
So much so that despite the offer to have separate rooms, Hudson and I are staying together. The professional league put us up in the MGM Grand, right near the stadium. He and a few other players went out on the Strip tonight, but I opted to stay in.
I find the children’s book at the bottom of my bag and pull it out before pressing video call on Allie’s contact in my phone.
When I travel, I prefer to spend my evenings with her, reading stories to the baby.
It may be a bit overdramatic, but it’s important that my daughter, even if she isn’t here yet, knows I’m taking care of her, even when I’m away.
Plus, I find it incredibly relaxing—being with Allie, watching her fall asleep on camera. Once I know she’s resting, I can finally settle down myself.
I have my phone laying down on the bed while I pull back the sheets to climb inside, so I can’t see her when she answers, but the moment her fractured “Hey” filters through the speaker I’m riddled with unease.
“Hey.” I grab my phone, holding it up to my face. “What’s wrong?”
Allie fits inside the screen, like her phone is propped on the nightstand. She lays on her side, pregnancy pillow wedged between her thighs, framing her belly as she hugs it to her chest and rests her cheek on top of it. Her brown eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, cheeks and nose rosy pink.
But she shakes her head, voice shaky. “Nothing.”
“Allie.” I sigh. My gut plummets at the sight of her like this, being so far away, unable to do a fucking thing about it. “C’mon, baby. Talk to me. Please.”
“God.” She cracks a laugh, rolling onto her back as she rubs her eyes.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I swear I was fine earlier, but then I came home and I was…
” She covers her face with her hands, and as a rattled breath stumbles from her lips, she cries, the shattered word hardly audible. “Alone.”
“You’re not alone, Amor. I’m right here.
” I grab my phone and hold it closer, fingers curling in a death grip, as if I could reach through the screen and hold her.
My body itches with it—the desperation, the soul-stealing reality that I can’t comfort her right now.
“Baby, can you look at me, please? I’m here. ”
She takes a deep breath, stilling herself before she clears her throat and nods. Allie turns onto her side again, studying my face. “I’m really fucking scared, Archer.”
“Scared of what, Allie Cat?”
“Today someone stopped me outside your mom’s bakery. He said he was a writer for some online sports publication, and he wanted to ask me questions.” She blinks rapidly, eyes misting once again. “About you. And about me. And…” Allie’s hand drifts to her belly, holding it. “Her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I shoot straight up in bed, a carnal mixture of rage and denial blanketing me. “Who was this?”
“Umm…Jesse something.” Allie chews on her lip.
“From Sports Fan Daily or Athletes Daily. Something like that. I can’t entirely remember.
He… He followed me out of The Wicked Wildflower.
” Her brows furrow as she shakes her head.
“He knew my name. Asked if I was dating you. Told me that the fans wanted to know our plans for the off-season. With the baby.”
Bile rises in my throat, jaw clenching tight enough to fucking crack. I pull up my texting thread with my sister, shooting off a message with the man’s information and asking her what we can do about it. She responds immediately that our dad already let her know and she’s working on it.
“I’ll never let that happen to you again, Allie,” I growl. “I promise. I’m gonna take care of this.”
“I was with Monny when it happened, and she helped me make him leave, but… What if that happens to me when I’m alone? When I’m with the baby? After we’ve moved. I’ll be all alone, Archer.” Her voice breaks again. “When you’re working. When you’re gone. I’ll be alone.”
“Allie,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea someone would approach you like that.”
“It’s not your fault,” she murmurs. “I don’t blame you. I just got scared. That’s all. I’ll be okay.”
And I know she will. But okay isn’t fucking good enough for me.
My phone buzzes with another message from Lou.
“My sister says there is a lot of media buzz surrounding the draft and my placement right now since my team didn’t make playoffs.
She said once I’m on a team and the season begins, media attention will settle down.
She isn’t worried, but for now, how about you don’t go out by yourself.
Monny, or my mom, Darby or Elena or Z, someone will be around for you, and I’ll be home in three more days. ”
“And when we move?”
“I’ll take care of it, Allie. I promise.”
“I know.” She wipes her eyes again. “I know you will. I know we’ll be okay. I’m just…scared sometimes. It’s a big change. So many big changes.”
The look on her face, the worry in her eyes, it fucking guts me.
Not only is she just nine weeks away from her due date, and we’re about to bring an entire life into the world—something that fucking terrifies me too—but just a few months into our daughter’s life, we’ll uproot everything and start over somewhere new.
Somewhere we don’t even know the location of yet.
I truly believe in the end it’ll all be worth it.
I’m going to fund Allie’s dreams, and I’m going to give her and our girl the best life imaginable, but I understand her fears right now.
I have them too, and I know that my current distance only adds to the distress. Proof that her feelings are justified.
“I know, baby. We’ll make it through.”
She nods, sniffling. “I think… I think I’d like to have her at that birthing center I toured a few weeks ago. The one I went to with our moms.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
She nods, wiping her eyes. “Today, after that guy was a fucking creep, I went to book club with everyone, and the room was so warm and cozy and it smelt good. I felt safe there, and comfortable. I had people I loved with me, and it settled me. I want to feel like that when I have our baby too.”
“I want you to feel like that too, Amor. Whatever you want, we’ll make it happen.”
She blinks as a small smile reaches across her lips. “Thank you.”
“The same one you got those pamphlets from, right? The birthing classes?”
She nods.
“I’d like to do that together, if you want. I want to know how to take care of you. And her. The right way.”
“It’ll be instinctual,” she whispers, that smile spreading wider. “You’ll be perfect, but yes, we can take a class together.”
Her face is still on screen, but her eyes drift downward. Distant. I wish so badly I was there with her, could hold her through this moment.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
I offer her a smile, lifting the baby book into the frame, hoping we can move onto something lighter. “Can I read to her?”
A burst of laughter bubbles from her mouth, the first genuine smile I’ve seen since getting her on the phone. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
She settles in, getting comfortable as she fluffs and readjusts her pregnancy pillow. I prop my phone on my bedside table, slipping on my reading glasses and opening the book.
“You look hot with glasses, by the way,” she whispers. “Can you wear them next time you fuck me?”
“Whatever you want, Amor.”
A smirk teases at my lips every time she says shit like that to me, and if I wasn’t missing her already, I’m goddamn aching with it now.
I begin reading Goodnight Moon as Allie’s sleepy breath filters through the speaker.
After a minute, I steal a glance at the screen and find her eyes closed, but a small tilt to her lips tells me she’s still listening.
Though, before I finish the story, a loud snore cuts through, and I look up to find her completely asleep.
I laugh to myself but finish the book. When I set it down, I grab my phone again, studying her beautiful, sleeping face. Dark, wild curls splayed across the pillow under her head, full lips parted, Allie looks so peaceful. She holds her belly, our daughter just there beneath her skin.
My entire fucking world.
“I’ve got you, Allie Mae,” I whisper into the night. “I’ve got you both. You’re gonna be safe with me.”