for me to attend, then steering clear of Fridays—and sometimes Thursdays—before away games would be pretty helpful.” I walked over and took her hand, running my thumb across her knuckles and pausing on her ring finger.
What do you mean you haven’t proposed? Mom’s voice bulldozed through my brain, just like it had when she’d nearly shrieked the words at me over the phone last week.
“So, I’m supposed to carry around a copy of your schedule?” She arched an eyebrow.
“Google works.” A smile tugged at my lips. “Honestly, I’m not going to tell you when to make appointments. I’m going to do whatever I have to so I can be here. Period.”
“What happens if you miss the plane?” Worry etched little lines in her forehead.
“I’ll charter something. Don’t worry.” I gave her hand a squeeze.
“Your coaches won’t get mad?” She adjusted her long skirt—she’d called it a maxi.
“Probably.” I had exactly one hour to make it to the airport, and we were forty-five minutes away.
“Probably?” Her voice rose. “Okay, well, what can happen if you miss that plane?”
“I’m going to be fine. Don’t worry.” I turned her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. God, she smelled good, and it wasn’t just the cookies she’d been snacking on for breakfast.
“Seriously, what’s the worst that can happen to you?” Her gaze darted to her phone, no doubt checking the time.
“Do you always think about the worst-case scenario?” I teased, making a point to relax my posture.
“Nixon.”
I sighed. “They could fire me, I guess.”
“You guess?” she shouted.
“It’s not likely,” I assured her. “I mean, the Texans fired their quarterback when he missed a flight, but that’s not going to happen. I’ll probably get a fine. Nothing big.”
“How much?” Her eyes widened, and her knuckles whitened as she gripped the edge of the exam table.
“Ten grand or so.”
Her face fell, and my stomach twisted at the sight. I took her face in my hands. “This is nothing you have to worry about.” I kissed her, brushing her lips just long enough to feel that jolt of electricity slide through my system that kissing her always gave me.
“Nothing I have to…” She jerked her face out of my hands. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”
“Because I didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already are.” I stepped back when she narrowed her eyes at me. “The money isn’t an issue.”
“And you getting fired isn’t?”
“They’re not going to fire me.” I kept my voice level.
“You should have told me.” She sighed. Hard. “You have got to let me in, Nixon. If you would’ve opened up about this, I wouldn’t have put you in this position.”
“Let you in? You live with me, Liberty. How much further in would you like me to let you? You’ve met Nathan and Harper. You’ve talked to my parents on the phone. I’ve brought you to every team event and never ever hidden you from the press. You woke up this morning in my bed—is that not close enough for you?” For fuck’s sake, I hadn’t let a woman this close to me in years, if ever.
“That is not what I mean.”
“I’m pretty new at all this moved-the-woman-I-was-lucky-enough-to-conceive-a-child-with-into-my-house stuff, but something tells me that we can’t exactly know everything there is to know about each other already.”
“I barely know anything about you,” she countered. “Every time I try to get close, you throw up a wall about ten feet tall and a billion miles thick.”
“You just asked about my contract negotiations, and I told you.” I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my slacks. “What am I missing here?”
“What happened to your brother?”
“I’m sorry?” Everything within me, including my heart, stopped, then began the well-practiced process of freezing over. My mouth went first, clamping shut.
“You don’t have to answer me. Not right here and not right now.” There was a plea in her eyes. For what? The answer? Understanding? “But do you see the way you’re standing? Do you hear the bite in your voice? That wall is already up.” Her hand smoothed over the swell of her belly. “I don’t know how to navigate all of this if you keep me in the dark about who I’m doing this with.”
I sucked in a breath and concentrated on unlocking my muscles. “Okay. Maybe I’m not the most forthright person. I don’t like picking off scabs just to watch them bleed. You want to know what happened to Nick? Google it. The press has made