to be kidding,” Clay says on a laugh, shaking his head.
“Find out?” is all my father can muster, inching closer to the hospital bed and squinting hard, as if he’s certain he can’t possibly be seeing this correctly. “Find…find out what, exactly?”
“Mr. Vice…” Matt holds out his hand, straightening his shoulders.
“No.” My father waves him off, his eyes shadowing with disgust and disbelief. “You’re the starting quarterback. Why the hell aren’t you at practice?”
“Well, when Ellie called me and told me she was in pain and going to the hospital, I left so that I could—”
“And why in heaven or hell would Elizabeth call you? You’re her PR assignment…”
Jayson hesitantly lifts a hand. “Um…Dad. I think Quarterback here is the—”
“Shhh.” Noah elbows him. “This is Ellie’s thing. Let her tell him.”
“Elizabeth, sweetie.” Mom rushes toward me and reaches for my hand. “You’re okay, right? Noah said everything came back clear, but we just had to make sure.”
“Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m on the set of a freaking family drama,” Ethan remarks with an eye roll.
My throat is tight, and every nerve in my body is fraying as the whole picture-perfect world I built around this secret comes crumbling down around me.
“Yes,” I croak, my voice shaky. “I’m fine.”
“Elizabeth.” My dad steps forward, refusing to even look at or acknowledge Matt, keeping his gaze totally fixed on me. “I’m going to ask you this one time and one time only. Why is the Riders quarterback here with you right now?” He speaks slowly and deliberately.
My palms are sweating. I glance at Matt for support and open my mouth to talk, but before I can form any coherent words…
“Because I’m the father,” Matt says with certainty and in a steady tone.
A little bit of relief curls through me, and I try to thank him silently.
I hold my breath as my dad clenches his jaw and looks off to the side, anger flashing across his face.
Mom is quiet, looking at Christopher with concern, then glancing back at me with love and support.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you guys sooner,” Matt continues, daring to keep eye contact with my dad. “Ellie wanted to figure out the best time to tell you all. We thought we’d wait until after the Super Bowl. And we decided it would be better once we knew for sure what was going on with…” He looks at me. “Our relationship.”
“Relationship?” My dad practically spits the word. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be in the picture,” he says to me.
“Shit,” Clay says under his breath. “And I thought the Kardashians had drama.”
Jayson smirks. “This is juicy, that’s for sure.”
“Peanut gallery,” Mom says sternly, glaring at my brothers all gathered in the corner. “Wait in the hall, please. Have some respect.”
“All right, all right.” Jayson holds his hands up defensively, and they all turn and walk out.
“Well, sir…” Matt takes a deep breath. “I fully intend to be in the picture. Completely and totally in the picture. This is my baby, and I’m going to be the best dad I possibly can be.”
My dad, for the first time since Matt opened his mouth, turns his attention back to me. “Elizabeth…a Rider?” He narrows his gaze. “Seriously? I mean, what were you thinking? Accidents happen, fine. But now you’re telling me that you two are going to have some sort of relationship? He’s an athlete, Ellie! And a questionably skilled one at that.”
Matt frowns and draws back.
“Christopher.” My mom places a hand on his arm. “There’s no need to be rude. We’re all just in a lot of shock right now. We never, even in all our theories and ideas and conjecture about who the baby daddy could be, thought it would be a player on the team. We’re processing the news.”
I nod, reaching out for Matt’s hand. “I don’t want to do this without him, Dad.”
“You don’t know what’s best for you.” He crosses his arms. “Or what’s best for this family. You never have. Do you even know where he’s from, Ellie? His background?”
Matt shuts his eyes hard and swallows.
“Dad, he’s standing right here,” I say, my voice breaking over the shock and hurt of his insensitivity.
“Your father’s just upset.” Mom gives Matt a warm look. “It’s not you…it’s the situation.”
“Trina, he’s the quarterback of our team. Our team. The NFL team that we own.”
“Mr. Vice…” Matt steps toward my father. “I can assure you that—”
“I’ve heard enough.” Dad holds up a hand and refuses to even look at