Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
DAMON
I’m going to be a dad.
The thought cycles in my brain over and over on the drive home.
I tried to save face in front of Adeline and make her believe I’m totally cool with this new role so she wouldn’t worry, but damn, I’m filled with fucking fear.
Then, like an idiot, I brought up my dad and all the lawyer shit he’s surely going to throw at me…
her… us. Why would I worry her like that?
I shouldn’t even tell my family, any of them.
I pull into my designated parking spot in the garage across from my apartment building.
Instead of heading to my apartment, I go into Peeper’s Alley, the bar at the bottom level of the four-flat, needing something to drink.
When I approach, I tear down the poster board someone hand wrote “The Den” on and put it up on the gate to the stairs that lead to the three apartments above.
Over the years, this place has come to be known by the moniker because of all the Grizzlies who have lived here.
“Damon,” Ruby says from behind the bar when I enter the dated establishment. She hands a pint of beer to one of her many male customers who line the stools day and night.
She’s opted not to make this bar trendy like the rest of the area.
Instead, she refuses to serve anything other than beer and hard alcohol.
Ruby is always lecturing any woman who comes in and asks for a seltzer, telling them they need to learn how to order a real drink.
She’s a little rough around the edges, but she treats me and the other two Grizzlies players who live in the building like her sons.
“Hey, Rubes, a shot of tequila and a beer.”
She nods, and I wait. I have a tab here that she charges every month. I down the shot right after she finishes pouring it and wait for her to fill my pint of beer.
“Your crew is in the private room.” She nods toward the room in the back.
Let’s just say this place has become a popular hangout for women who hope to find us here, so the private room allows us privacy when we don’t want to deal with any of that shit.
“Thanks.” I pick up my beer and raise it in cheers.
The moment I walk into the private room, I change my mind and wish I would’ve gone up to my apartment. Bryce is cozy in Miles’s lap while Cooper and Ellery sit with barely any space between them. It’s like being the fifth wheel, and all I have to contribute is a pregnant one-night stand.
All four of them look up at me when I open the door.
“Daddy’s home!” Cooper calls.
“Shut the fuck up.” I look behind me, worried someone might have heard.
“Oh, come on. Most of them can’t even hear what the person next to them is saying.” Ellery sticks up for her supposed “best friend.” She swears she doesn’t want to fuck Cooper and he swears the same, but they’re delusional.
I don’t know how they’ve gone this long ignoring the pull between them. Not pressing Adeline’s back against the cool metal of the elevator wall and kissing the shit out of her earlier was pure torture. She’s somehow even hotter now that she’s carrying my child.
I really hope this infatuation I have with her is because she’s carrying my baby. Like some kind of caveman reaction. Because every night since I found out, I’ve beat off to images of her riding me with her swollen belly and big tits. It’s pathetic really, and I need to get laid.
“You’re crabby,” Bryce says, pushing her finger into my bicep as I sit between Miles and Cooper.
Horny is more accurate.
“So?” Miles asks, the one friend in this room who isn’t afraid to dive straight into the serious shit.
I nod and sip my beer.
“Congratulations.” Cooper pats my back, and I cough on my beer.
“I’m going to get a round of shots. Damon’s gonna be a daddy.” Ellery rounds her chair and heads into the bar area before I can stop her. “Rubes, a round of shots for us,” I hear her call.
“Are you upset?” Bryce asks.
“No.”
“Scared?” Miles asks.
“Shitless.” I sip my beer again but continue swallowing until I finish the fucking thing. I slide the empty glass on the wooden table and rock my head back.
“Are you going to marry her?” Cooper asks.
I whip my head over to him. “Have you fucked Ellery yet?”
His head rears back, and he honestly looks confused as to why I’d ask him that question. Because Cooper fucking Ellery is in the same realm of possibility as pigs flying or hell freezing over. The man cannot make a move to save his life, and I’m no different when it comes to commitment.
“No, I’m not going to marry her,” I answer before Cooper says anything.
“Are you going to tell your parents?” Miles asks.
Silence fills the room. I’m going to disappoint my dad. Everyone knows it. The man lectures me constantly about settling down and how I’m asking to be put in the position I’ve now found myself in. He’s going to tell me he told me so.
“I’m going to call them. I just wanted to make sure it was for sure. I thought about keeping it from them, but my mom would be crushed. As it is, Adeline is six months along already.”
“Your mom is going to spoil the baby,” Miles adds.
I nod, knowing he’s right. Between my brother, Ollie, being ten years younger than me and me being the playboy of the league, she’s resigned herself to being the best great-aunt she can be to my cousin’s kids, but what mother doesn’t want to be a grandmother someday?
“Good luck. He might just take your black card away.” Cooper laughs.
I shake my head as Ellery returns with a tray full of shots.
My dad won’t take my black card away, but what I’m really worried about is how Adeline will feel about the fact that the baby growing in her stomach will have a trust fund with more money in it than she’d make in her lifetime as a teacher solely because his or her last name will be Siska.
Then it occurs to me that we’re not married—what if she doesn’t want our baby to have my last name? There’s so much to figure out, and in some ways, it’s even more difficult because we’re not in a relationship with each other. But we never will be, so we might as well start sorting it out now.
I have the choice to tell my parents face-to-face or in a phone call. I opt for FaceTime as the best of both worlds. They’re sheltered in their East Coast mansion, and I’m far away in Chicago.
My gut clenches as my mom’s phone rings. It’s Sunday, so they should both be home today.
She answers on the second ring. “I was just thinking about how I raised you better. It’s been over two weeks with no word from you.” She’s smiling, her blond hair with sprinkled gray cut in a neat bob and her face fully made up.
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
She rolls her eyes. “A mother doesn’t want to hear what or who has been keeping you busy.”
“I’m not sure about that,” I say without thinking of how she could misconstrue that, but her raised eyebrows and small “O” of her lips says she got the wrong idea. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
Her shoulders fall. “Oh.”
“Boy, I’m just full of disappointments.”
She stares at me with that look. The one that says she’ll always be proud of me, but they’re hopeful to get me out of the trench I’ve been stuck in for so long.
“Oh, Otis just came in.” She turns and looks behind her at the dog. “Otis, it’s Damon!”
When Otis reaches her, he sticks his entire face into the camera view and licks the screen.
“Hey, Otis. How is the training going?”
My mom rolls her eyes and pats his head. “We’re getting there, right?”
“Sure, you are.” I chuckle, not believing a word of it.
She laughs because Otis has failed obedience school twice, and two personal trainers have told Mom there’s nothing they can do. Now, she has him with some specialist who has their own show on television. The dog is the most loving thing, but not very well-behaved and always gets into everything.
“Is Dad around?”
My mom’s laugh fades, and she stares at me as though she’ll be able to see whatever I’m about to tell them. “He’s in his office. Why?”
“I need to talk to you both.”
With a worried expression, she stands and takes her phone with her as she walks through their mansion, Otis trailing behind her. “This scares me,” she says softly, as if I can’t hear her. “Is whatever this is the reason why you haven’t come home?”
Then I hear my dad screaming when she gets nearer to his office.
“Oh boy,” she says. “I think your brother is home.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Well, he’s been at our condo in New York City, and Dad got reports from the neighbors about parties with strippers and stuff.” She whispers the word stripper.
That’s my brother’s MO. He refuses to grow the fuck up and lives off my parents’ money.
Being ten years younger than me, he’s given them way more problems than I ever did.
He was thrown out of two boarding schools and just got kicked out of my dad’s alma mater.
Ollie apparently informed my dad that he will no longer be going to college because he considers it to be a waste.
“Maybe I should call back.”
“Nonsense.” She knocks on the office door and walks in without waiting for a reply. “I’ve got Damon on FaceTime.”
“It’s your golden boy, talk to him. I’ll be in my room.”
“Ollie!” my dad yells.
My little brother’s face peeks on the screen. “You look like shit.”
“I could say the same.”
“See you.”
“We are not through here, Oliver! You will pay for all the damage to our condo,” my dad screams.
The slam of the door says that Ollie’s left.
“I swear, your son,” my dad says.
“My son?” My mom points at herself. “I’m taking credit for this one.” Mom smiles at the screen.
“And what does your golden boy want?” my dad asks.
My mom laughs and positions the phone on his desk, bringing a chair next to him and taking a seat. “He says he has news.”
My dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just what I need, more shitty news.”
“How do you know it’s shitty?” I ask with a frown.
“Because your ass would be in the chair across from me if it was good news. You’re in the offseason, Damon, and last time I checked, you had the means to either pay for a public flight or have the private plane come and get you.
So, just lay it out there. Your brother’s already escalated my migraine.
” He tips his head down and rubs his temples.
“It’s not horrible news, it’s just…”
“Spit. It. Out.” He stares at me through the screen. My dad still has his dirty-blond hair without any gray, and he’s fit from running every morning, but today he looks older than he usually does. When I can’t get the words out, he asks, “Do I need a scotch?”
I decide to just go with my usual humor.
“Congratulations, you’re going to be a grandpa and grandma!” I put up my hands as though it’s exciting news.
“What?” My mom’s eyes widen, and she beams. “Oh my god! This is great.” Then her smile dims. “You’re not talking about a dog or cat or a fish, are you?”
I laugh. “No, Mom. A real, live human being.”
Her smile reappears, and it lights up the entire screen, warming my chest.
But my dad just sits there, staring. He scratches his head. “Son, who’s the baby’s mother?”
I knew my mom would only hear the word baby, but my dad would hear baby mama along with trust fund, rich, user, opportunist.
“She’s a woman I met last summer right before the season started.” I keep my voice light.
“Are you dating her?” he asks.
“No.” I swallow hard.
He frowns. “Were you dating her?”
“No.” I suck in a big breath.
My mom’s smile drops, and I see my dad’s hand squeeze my mom’s leg. I hate that they’re disappointed in me. It’s like a crushing feeling in my chest.
“Maybe we should talk privately,” my dad says, looking at my mom.
Her head rears back. “Oh no, you don’t. I’m not being pushed out into the next room like I can’t handle the news that my son knocked up one of his one-night stands. I don’t live in a cave, Stanley. I read the articles and hear the rumors.”
“Yes, your son can’t keep his dick out of every fresh piece of ass he sees.”
And there’s the look on my phone screen I dreaded—complete and total disappointment.