Chapter 8
MILES
I ’m waiting at an outside table for two at a café downtown Chicago.
Shelly Breckles from Sportsverse called me to meet to talk about the article she wants to write on me.
She hasn’t started traveling with the team yet because last weekend she was ill, which was when we were originally supposed to talk about it.
My phone vibrates, and I pull it out of my pocket and see my sister’s name on the screen.
“If Chase is within five feet of you, I’m hanging up,” I answer.
I’m just picking on her, but I don’t understand why Chase always has to be touching her. I mean, c’mon—have some respect for the older brother.
“I cannot believe I’m finding out that you and Bryce are a couple from the internet! Why did neither one of you tell me?”
I groan. “What are you talking about?”
My phone vibrates in my hand.
“Check out the picture I just sent you.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and open the text message from Twyla to find an image of Bryce and me kissing at last night’s Tundra’s game.
“Oh, that.”
“I’m sorry? Oh, that? What does that mean?” She’s practically shrieking in my ear.
“You sound upset,” I say, mouthing “thank you” to the server who sets my iced tea in front of me.
“Does it bother you that I might be dating your friend?” I don’t know why I bother leading her down a trail that’s going to finish in a dead end.
Maybe I’m curious what she has to say on the subject since she’s in a relationship with one of my best friends.
She squeals, and I have to pull the phone away from my ear for a beat. “So you are dating?”
“No way,” I deadpan.
“Miles!”
“Jesus, sunshine, it’s early,” Chase says in the background.
“Sorry, look at this.” I hear kissing noises because she has me on speakerphone. “They’re kissing but not dating,” Twyla tells him.
Chase grunts, and I laugh because he doesn’t give a shit about my life as long as I stay out of his with my sister.
“Don’t get so worked up, it’s not good for the baby,” I say to distract them.
“You got my hopes up,” Twyla whines.
“Why would you want me to be with Bryce? We obviously hate each other.” I sip my iced tea.
“You only think you hate each other. This kiss proves it!” If she was here, she’d probably be poking me in the chest.
“Your hormones are making you see things that aren’t there.
We were forced to kiss for a Kiss Cam, that’s all.
” It’s easier to convince people I don’t want anything to do with Bryce when, in reality, I would’ve loved to take her home last night.
It took every ounce of my willpower not to slide my tongue between her lips.
But admitting that to my sister will only give her false hope for something that’s never going to happen.
“Keep telling yourself that. You’re going to have a lonely life, big brother.”
I spot Shelly climbing out of a car at the corner, and I lift my arm in greeting. She smiles.
“I gotta go. Keep that baby safe, and give Chase a good knee in the balls for me. Love you.”
“Miles—” she pleads, but I hang up and pocket my phone.
Shelly winds through the iron gating for the temporary patio that’s put up for the warmer months in Chicago, of which there aren’t a ton.
I’m already dreading the winter. Talk about a welcome—the day I was traded, there was a winter storm with winds so strong my face was numb by the time I walked across the sidewalk from my Uber to my condo building.
“Miles, good to see you.” She holds out her hand.
I stand and shake it before pulling out the chair for her. She sits down and puts her hand over her stomach.
“Sorry, whatever this is, it’s taking over my body.” She laughs.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Better now, but not a hundred percent. Sorry I missed the Minneapolis game, but you were a monster out there. I must say, I’m your biggest fan, but you’re really making a name for yourself this season.”
“Thanks. It’s weird, I think I’m possibly playing the best I have in my career.”
She frowns. “Certainly better than how you started out last year here. That was to be expected—new team, new dynamic, new plays. It all goes together, and of course you’d be nervous.
And then for the Kingsmen to win…” She shakes her head.
“That’s the thing about sports, you can’t predict the future. There’re so many variables.”
I nod. “Truth. ”
The server comes over, and Shelly orders a coffee. “Sorry, lately I just can’t stay awake.” She widens her eyes. “Okay, so…” She bends and digs into her bag. “I was talking to my editor, and he’s on board with the highlight piece. I wanted to go over what that means and a few other things.”
“Okay.”
Her coffee arrives, and Shelly looks at the server as though she just threw Shelly a life vest in the middle of the ocean. “Thank you.” She leans forward. “Could I bother you for a muffin too?” She looks at me. “Sorry. Rough morning.”
“No problem.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not contagious.” She sips her coffee, moaning as she swallows. “Okay, let’s get this going.”
She pulls out an edition of Sportsverse with my friend and quarterback for the San Francisco Kingsmen, Lee Burrows, on the front. It was from last year.
“I know you recognize this guy.” She flips through the pages. “As you know, it was a big deal for Lee to get this cover last year. Everyone thought it was his year, and then when he married during the off-season… everyone was dying to do a piece on him.”
I nod, remembering Lee complaining about all the heightened interest in his personal life.
She opens the pages filled with pictures of Lee at all different ages with different football jerseys on and throwing the ball.
Some pictures are of him with his brother, talking about how they’re both involved in professional sports.
Then there are some of his and Shayna’s place.
Her on the field with him, taping his ankle, and a few more of the two of them at home.
I hope this isn’t the angle she wants to pursue with me because I don’t have any of that. All I have is the sport.
While I’m flipping through the pages, Shelly asks, “I don’t want to pry, but are you dating Bryce Burns?”
I inhale a deep breath. That kiss for the Kiss Cam was a huge mistake. Maybe Bryce was right, though I’d never admit that to her. “No. The mascot wouldn’t take no for an answer, so we just kissed to get the attention off us.”
She stares at me for an uncomfortable minute. “When I talked to Bryce this morning, she said you kissed her .”
“Yeah, but only to get the mascot to go away.”
She nods. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure, because if we did a piece on you it would look like favoritism if you were dating one of our own. You can see that, right?”
I hold up both hands in front of me. “I promise you, I’m not dating Bryce Burns.”
She smiles wide. “Great. So your article would be a little different than Lee’s. His was about how his life was evolving. Marriage and kids change a player’s perspective, as you’ve probably witnessed in the locker room.”
I swallow down past the Sahara Desert level dryness in my throat. I know I have time, but I wouldn’t mind having someone to share my life with. If I continue hanging out with Damon, I’m just going to end up with a bunch of booty calls.
“Yours would center more on your career journey. The different positions you played. Concentrate heavily on you being offered both athletic and academic scholarships out of high school. It changes things when an athlete graduates college on the Dean’s list with the GPA you did, all while playing football.
I’m going to be honest with you though, a lot of discussion will be about the trade last year and the Kingsmen winning after your departure.
My editor wants to paint you as the underdog, and so do I. ”
Underdog? I feel like I’ve been that guy my entire life.
“Okay, but it’s not going to be a pity piece, right?”
“Of course not.” Without warning, she grimaces and hunches over, gripping her stomach. “Oh my god.”
“Are you okay?” I start to stand, but she raises her hand.
“I’m fine. It’s okay. ”
“Okay.” I sit back down, but her face has lost all color.
The server comes over with her muffin and stops at the edge of the table. “Are you guys okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s her.” I point at Shelly, who’s clearly still in distress.
“I probably just need to eat.” She takes the plate from the server and tears the top off the muffin like a ravenous animal. She swallows it all in one bite and downs it with a heavy gulp of coffee. “That should make me feel better.”
I stare at her because I’m worried something is really wrong. Maybe it’s her appendix or something.
“Not a pity piece. Just an article to showcase you, show you off, let people know who you are and what makes you tick. We want them to know you’re here to win and plan to do exactly that with the Grizzlies.” She looks a little more comfortable now, so I relax back into my seat a bit.
“That all sounds great. I’m in.”
“I hoped you’d say that. Let me grab my notepad and we can chat about what an article might look like.” She bends down to her bag again and screams, falling off the chair and onto all fours on the concrete.
I bolt up out of my chair and hunch down beside her, unsure what to do.
“Something is wrong. It hurts so bad.” Her hand covers her stomach.
“Miss, are you okay?” A woman comes over from a nearby table, and Shelly nods that she’s okay, but I shake my head to indicate that no, she’s not okay. “I’m a physician. Where does it hurt?”
Shelly goes over her pain and the flu symptoms she’s had lately while the woman helps her back into her chair.
“Have you gained weight recently?” the woman asks.
I look at the server with an expression that says no one is ever supposed to ask a woman a question like that .
“A little, but I moved in with my boyfriend, and he’s a pastry chef, and he makes treats all the time. What does that have to do with this?”
The woman glances at me and I think I know where she’s going with this. Holy shit.
“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?” she asks Shelly.
Shelly opens her mouth. “I don’t… no way. I mean… hold on.” She pulls out her phone and scrolls through it for a moment, biting her lip harder and harder the more her thumb moves across the screen. “Shit, my period is never regular, but I haven’t had it in months.”
“Like a lot of months?” the server asks.
Shelly nods, fear in her eyes, clutching at her stomach again.
“I better tell my manager.” The server rushes off.
The doctor’s phone rings, and she pulls it out, her lips turning down.
“I’m being paged to head back to the hospital for one of my patients.
” She looks at me. “Get your girlfriend to the hospital right now. Like, get into a cab and tell them to drive fast. You should have enough time.” She holds up the edge of Shelly’s dress and waits for permission if she can look underneath.
Shelly nods, and I turn around so I’m not looking. “Yeah, you need to get there now.”
“Is, like, the head out?” I ask.
“No, but it might be soon. Get going.”
We thank her, and she stands and grabs her things from the nearby table, kissing the man she’s with on the cheek before heading down the sidewalk.
My eyes widen. “We need to call your boyfriend.”
“He’s on a plane headed to some convention. Oh my god, I can’t be having a baby! How did I not know I was pregnant? Who doesn’t know they’re pregnant!” she shouts. She’s looking at her stomach that isn’t anywhere near as big as you’d expect it to be .
She grabs her phone to hand it to me. I’m not sure who she wants me to call, but during the exchange, she accidentally drops it in the water glass. I grab it out right away but it’s dripping with water and the screen is black.
Why does she have such an old phone? They’re all waterproof now, aren’t they?
I press the button on the side, but nothing happens. “Who do I call? Do you know their number?”
She screams, and the server returns with the manager.
“We have to go.” I rush over and help Shelly up and over to the curb where the manager has hailed us a cab.
I have no idea what to do or who to call, so once we’re in the back of the cab and it’s moving, I grab my phone to call the only person who might be able to help her.
Surprisingly, she answers on the first ring.
“God damn you, Cavanaugh, do you know how many people are asking me about that damn kiss?”
Shelly screams beside me, clutching her stomach in pain.
“Who is that? What the hell is going on?”
“It’s Shelly from your office. She’s having a baby.”
“A baby? She’s not even pregnant, you idiot.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure she is pregnant because a baby is coming out of her.”
Bryce is quiet for a beat. “And you called me, why?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“And I do?”
“Just… I don’t know.” I look over at Shelly. “Breathe… one… two… three.”
She follows my instructions, taking deep breaths.
“Just help me?”
“How convenient that now you want my help.”
“Bryce!”
“Fine. What hospital? I’ll see what I can do.”
I ask the driver, and he tells me where we’re headed.
“Cook Memorial,” I tell Bryce .
“Fine. I’ll see you there.”
She hangs up, and I continue to help Shelly breathe through pain that looks as excruciating to me as when I’ve seen guys tear their ACL. I’ve never been so happy to be a man.