but I understand. I’d be flipping out too if I was having nightmares my brother died in a car crash. Besides, what’s another holiday by myself? I’m used to it at this point.
“I’m sure. Anyway, Rider will kick my ass if I upset you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure you’re overestimating his reaction.”
As we both stand up, he reaches over the table and pops the last bite of my scone in his mouth. “Pretty sure I’m not. The guys like to give him shit about how the big bad quarterback has fallen for the babysitter.” He chuckles as he makes his way to the front of the cafe.
I like hearing my brother laugh, but then I process what he just said and wish I was as certain about Rider’s feelings for me as my brother seems to be.
48
RIDER
When the final whistle of the day blows at practice, I’m so tired, I’m pretty sure I could fall asleep standing up. Thank God we’re off tomorrow for Thanksgiving.
“Stay out of trouble, boys! Idle hands are the devil’s workshop,” Sully teases as we head to the locker room. He pats my back as I walk by. “Extra ice on that shoulder, son.”
“You got it, Coach.”
For some reason, Poppy had to be held half the night and my throwing arm was numb when I woke up. I’m still working out the kinks.
After a hot shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and collapse on the bench.
Some of the guys are talking about their plans this week.
Winston air-humps his locker. “She’s so flexible, I bet she can sit on my face, do some kind of back bend thingy, and suck my dick at the same time.” His buddy Derek gives him a high-five.
Those two tend to have the nicest girlfriends for some reason. I don’t get it, because behind their backs, they cheat, and mess around, and talk like douchebags.
“Think she has a friend? Maybe we could tag-team this weekend. Or you could share,” Derek suggests.
Winston shakes his head. “I’m saving all her holes for myself.”
Now that I have a daughter, I can barely listen to this bullshit. And I’m too tired to keep how I feel under wraps. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”
He chuckles, but it lacks humor. “Yours didn’t have any complaints. In fact—”
Tank yells, “Shut up, Winston. Yo mama so nasty, she brings her own crabs to Red Lobster.”
Everyone laughs, and I shake my head. “We really should respect women more,” I mumble. If I ever have sons, they’re never gonna say this kind of shit.
On my way to Gabby’s, I mentally calculate how Poppy and I can survive on what I have in the bank for the next few weeks. I have one more thing I can try to sell to make that money stretch, but it’s gonna be tight.
Since that day at my father’s house, Gabby and I have avoided talking about what happened. Granted, we haven’t really hung out since. That’s my fault, but school has been kicking my ass, and I’ve barely had a moment to breathe.
The upshot is having time to get over my humiliation. But I can’t put off seeing Gabby any longer. Not that I want to. I miss her like crazy. I just hope she doesn’t think I’m a fucking loser. First, I can’t tell her, for sure, who my baby mama is, and then my father insults her to her face while he scratches his nut sack. Not to mention the pennies on the dollar I’m paying her to babysit. The Kingstons have so much class.
Which is why I’m pulling up to Whiskey Row before I head home. I overheard Gabby tell Sienna that she loves the po’ boy sandwich at the Yellow Rose, so I thought I’d treat her. Yeah, I know this isn’t the wisest use of my money, but am I really supposed to wait until May to do something nice for her? Fuck that.
Since so many students have taken off for Thanksgiving, the Rose isn’t too busy. Ethel, who’s probably old enough to be my grandmother, takes my order, pops her gum, and gives me a wink. “Take a seat, sugar. I’ll get that ready for ya.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” I park my ass on a bench by the door and scroll through my phone.
“Look who’s here!” One guy almost falls off his barstool when he sees me.
I take a deep breath, ready to sign whatever he wants. The closer we get to the playoffs, the more