ear. “Uh, yeah. I grew up in Texas.”
“Right,” she says quickly. “Well, I didn’t know that. Until now.”
I can’t see her, but I’d be willing to bet my whole Riders contract that she’s pacing around nervously, twirling a strand of auburn hair.
I laugh some more in amusement at this so-far ridiculous conversation. “You called to confirm that I’m from Texas?”
“Yes.”
“And…why the sudden interest in my home state?”
“I just…I didn’t know. And my dad said that. And I realized I didn’t know. And I wanted to. And…”
I lie down flat on my back and switch the phone to the other ear. “Ellie. Tell me what’s going on.”
She’s silent for a beat, and I hear something that sounds like a loud whoosh and a splash in the background.
“Are you at the beach?” I ask before she has a chance to say anything else.
“Well, I…” More wind and another splash. “Yeah. Key Biscayne, actually. I come here when I need to think, because it’s essentially deserted at night. And…I don’t know…I had dinner with my family tonight, and I’m sort of, well…”
“Thinking,” I finish.
“Yeah.”
“Ellie, you have nothing to worry about. You’re gonna have more than enough support in raising this kid. From me and your family. And I know they don’t know yet that I’m the dad, but it’ll all work out.”
“I know. I’m not worried about raising the kid. The kid’s gonna have a phenomenal life…” Her voice breaks a little, making my chest tighten. “Matt…” she whispers.
“Ellie?” I draw her name out slowly, feeling a mixture of intrigue and surprise and concern.
“I want to know you. We’re having a baby together, and I barely know anything about you besides the fact that you can throw a football and you’re nice.”
I give a sarcastically hurt gasp. “I’m nice? That’s it? That’s all you know about me?”
“Well…no…but…” Her voice trails off. “You mentioned something about your dad not being around, and I didn’t want to pry any further. But my family was talking about you at dinner tonight, because of the PR project, and my dad said that you’re from…Texas.”
“Your dad is not wrong.”
“Yeah, and I just got to thinking. I realized I don’t even know anything about your childhood or life or any of that.”
Your childhood. Images of my grandma’s dilapidated house in Eastwood, Texas, flash through my mind. The tiny, rural, poverty-stricken town that had nothing but high school football and a tight-knit community.
Her voice on the phone is getting more frantic by the second, and I’m overwhelmed with the urge to hold her and calm her down. Not sure how I possibly have the authority to calm her down when I’m every bit as freaked out by life right now, but I know that I want to.
“Send me your location,” I say steadily. “I’ll be right over.”
“Really? Matt, you don’t have to—”
“I’m not gonna let you just sit on the beach and panic by yourself. We can at least sit on the beach and panic together.”
Her laugh is music to my ears. “Okay. I’m sending it.”
“See you soon.”
I sit up and walk to the closet, pulling on a T-shirt and cursing the childish nerves I get every time I know I’m gonna see her.
She really did seem upset, and I feel like it’s my job to be there for her. I know I’m not her boyfriend, but I’m also not nothing.
The location she sent me is actually really close to my apartment, right on the beach just ten minutes away. I get in my car in the parking garage and whip out, hearing Coach’s commanding voice echo through my head.
Carbs. Protein. Sleep. That’s all you need to be doing when you’re not in this gym or on the field.
Oops.
Well, I did the protein and carbs. Two out of three is fine, right? Football is important, but so is Ellie.
Because of the kid. My kid. Our kid.
I press my foot on the gas and cruise down the beachside road, glancing at the maps app on my phone that’s taking me to her spot.
As I get closer, I pull into a parking lot with only one other car there, a black Mercedes.
Yep. This is the place.
The air is salty when I get out of the car, and it’s definitely not cold, but the ocean breeze has a little chill in it. It is January, after all.
I jog down the wooden stairs of the beach access and look out over the dark, crashing ocean and the glimmering white reflection of the moon.
I never