He rolls his eyes. “Did you see me tonight? Two touchdowns. That bad boy deep in the end zone was one-handed. Pretty sure you’ll see me on SportsCenter highlights.”
God help me.
Of course I saw him. I’m the one who threw those touchdowns.
Tank didn’t want Winston living with us, and I’m glad I listened to him. Ben might be standoffish, but he’s not a dick like Winston.
I hand him a towel to cover his junk and pat him on the back. “You kicked ass. Now take it down a notch before you get your head caught in the doorway.”
He laughs and struts off, shouting, “Time to get some puss-ay, my little bitches!”
I shake my head and head to the showers.
Everyone’s headed out to unwind and get laid. Despite the close game, I understand their euphoria. Being undefeated this far into the season is something to celebrate, but I’ll be lucky if I don’t fall flat on my face from exhaustion and drown in a puddle of drool.
I just want a bag of ice for my shoulder, three ibuprofen, my bed, and silence for the next eight to ten hours.
I’m in my Jeep, halfway home, when I realize I still have to pick up Poppy.
Fuck. I smack the steering wheel with my fist.
Guilt instantly floods me for resenting my daughter. This is not who I want to be.
Another layer of shame settles over me when I realize I have no idea where she is right now. I left the details of who would be taking care of her today with Gabby, and while I trust her, being an absentee parent sounds just as bad as a negligent one.
Get your shit together, man.
I pull over next to the curb and turn on my phone, which I always shut off before a game. Although with Poppy in my life now, I probably shouldn’t do that anymore.
It takes a minute to find the online folder with the updated babysitting schedule Gabby made for me. When it opens, the entire next week fills in with names and phone numbers. On a separate tab, I find the names listed alphabetically with people’s addresses, notes on their babysitting experience and who still needs to sign NDAs. It’s basically everything from that binder, but now people are scheduled and it’s all at the tip of my fingers. Christ. Someday I’m gonna have to buy this woman a house or a luxury car to thank her.
After a call to Bree, who’s supposed to be watching the baby, I find out she ended up staying with Gabby all day because Bree caught a stomach bug and didn’t want to pass it on. She apologizes for not updating the form.
Gabby’s been watching her since—I check the clock on my dash—eight this morning. So… twelve hours. Damn. She must be as exhausted as I am.
Deciding I need to treat this girl to something special to say thanks, I pull a U-turn so I can pick us up a pizza. The least I can do is feed her.
I call it in so I don’t have to wait long. I order her favorite. Or at least what used to be her favorite.
I frown at the realization I don’t know Gabby anymore. I mean, I know the basics. She’s smart as hell and focused. Motivated. She still wrinkles her nose when she’s confused. She still smells sweet, like orange blossoms and beautiful woman. When she’s nerding out with a spreadsheet and clipboard, she’s sexy as fuck.
But that’s the surface. What’s been going on in her life since she was my tutor?
I’d like to spend time with her and find out. If she lets me.
I pull up to my house and curse. There’s nowhere to park because the guys are having “a few friends over.” Except cars are parked up and down both sides of the street along the entire block.
Reluctantly, I park behind Gabby’s car in her driveway. When I reach her door, I wipe my palms on my jeans before I knock.
The door swings open, and Gabby is shushing me before I can open my mouth.
“She finally fell asleep, and I don’t want to go to jail for strangling you if you wake her.”
I chuckle as she ushers me in to her living room. It’s small but tidy. A rose-print couch sits opposite a modest-sized flat screen. The old hardwood floor gleams, and there’s not so much as a crumb on the coffee table.
“You must be really grossed out by the lack of hygiene at