I keep checking my phone every two minutes to see if she’s read my texts or called me back and I somehow missed it. She hasn’t.
Yes, I’ve turned into a fucking teenage girl.
After another hour goes by with no word from her, unease settles over me. For the first time, it occurs to me that Gabby might not have forgiven me.
I figured since she sent Adele, she must’ve realized I blew my cool and didn’t mean the dumb shit I shouted the other night.
“Ba na na gaga!” Poppy tosses her toy right out of her playpen.
“Whoa, baby. That was quite the pitch.” I lift her out and set her on my lap. “We might need to get you signed up early for softball, huh?” Is that a sexist thing to think? “Hell, kid, if you wanna go for MLB, I’m down for that too. With this arm, which I’m pretty sure you got from your daddy, I bet you could give them a run for their money.”
She jams her fist in her mouth, pausing to shout, “Na na na!”
“Want a banana?”
“Nana!”
She missed her nap since she came to practice, ended up falling asleep later in the day, so now it’s past her bedtime, and she’s wide awake. The coaches were great with her, and it was cute seeing them all love up on my baby, but now I have to pay the price for her schedule getting thrown off whack.
I prop her on my hip and make my way down to the kitchen where Tank, Bree, Trevor, and Olly are studying.
“I need sustenance!” Tank shouts. “I cannot work under these conditions.”
“Eat your apple slices and carrots and stop complaining.” Bree rolls her eyes at him as she gathers her purse, pausing to shoot me a dirty look.
I mash up some banana for Poppy before I address the hostility in the room. “Got something to say there, Breanna?”
“I have a lot of shit to say to you, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear it. Namely, how could you back that social climber Miranda and not Gabby? How could you—”
“It wasn’t like that. And I’ve been calling Gabby all day, but she hasn’t returned my messages.”
“What a tragedy.”
Irritation straightens my spine. “I’ve left apologies on her phone. She hasn’t called back.”
“My guess is she doesn’t believe you. Wonder why.”
Tank cringes and tries to bury himself in his textbook.
I look back and forth between Tank and his girlfriend. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Go ahead.” Bree nudges Tank. “Tell him what Gabby overheard him say yesterday.”
“What are you talking about?” I didn’t even see Gabby yesterday.
“Woman, you’re gonna be the death of me.” When he turns to me, the seriousness in Tank’s eyes catches me off guard. “Don’t be pissed.”
Olly holds up his hand. “Didn’t we just say we should focus on the game this week? Our biggest game of the year, against the only other undefeated team in the league, is the day after tomorrow. Maybe we don’t wanna go down this road right now.”
Fuck. He makes a good point, but not clearing the air with Gabby is gonna give me an ulcer. “My head is all over the place right now anyway. I need to make things right with Gabby.”
This is the situation I’ve spent my football career trying to avoid. Getting so wrapped up in a woman that she takes the focus away from the game.
But I’ll never forgive myself if I lose Gabby over this. And judging by Bree’s demeanor, my window to make things right with Gabby is shrinking by the minute.
Tank sighs. “Gabby came over yesterday. While you were on the phone.” He pauses for a second. “With your dad.”
I think back to that conversation. The horrible things I yelled to get him off my back. I was so pissed.
My father was drunk. He’d seen the coverage. Nothing rational was going to talk him off that ledge. He was so sure Gabby was trying to lure me into another baby mama situation. It was ridiculous.
All I remember is telling him how I’ve never been in a serious relationship. That they’ve all been for fun. To blow off steam.
Lies. All lies.
Because Gabby is the real deal. She has me wrapped around her little finger almost as tightly as my daughter does.
My stomach knots, that sinking dread spreading through my limbs.
Christ. I said love was a lie. That I’ve never been serious about anyone.