by Mj Fields
I look over her head and see Cannon already has a chick standing between his legs. Blonde and dressed all upscale. She’s in complete contradiction to our surroundings.
Blondie moves in front of me. “I’m just going to powder my nose. I’ll be back.”
I lift my chin.
Once she’s gone and no longer blocking my vision, I look around. Every one of them has already paired off. Not unusual for this time of night. I’m late to the game, so to speak. I was busy shopping for my maybe baby’s momma … my hot as hell, not blonde, definitely not stick-thin. She’s thick, athletic, and no doubt going to be ‘My’n’.
“Amias Steel.” Cannon’s chick holds out her hand.
I shake it. “Hey.”
“You don’t remember me?” She flips her blonde hair back and laughs.
“Told ya, he’s missing some moments, babe. Chill.” Cannon takes a pull off his beer.
She holds out her perfectly manicured nails. “I’m Tonya, Lily’s sister. Lily kind of adopted Ellis, like she always did stray animals growing up. Couldn’t resist a bird with a clipped wing or three-legged dog, you know? She never outgrew it.”
I know who Lily is based on her special media posts.
She continues, “Thank you for saving my ass at the bachelorette party. And I owe you a drink for taking one for the team and handling our fake bride that night. She is definitely a strange one.”
“How so?” I ask, holding my anger at bay.
“It’s almost like she’s afraid of men. Good Lord, the cobwebs that you must have cleaned out from inside of her.” She throws her head back and laughs. “Can you imagine the last time she had sex before she birthed that”—she pauses and scrunches up her nose—“child of hers? Probably a good thing you blocked it out of your mind.”
Cannon must see the red in my eyes because he grips my shoulder and changes the subject. “You ready for tomorrow?”
“I’m ready.” I swing my gaze back to Tonya. “Aren’t you married?”
“Bro.” Cannon pushes out a laugh.
“It’s okay, baby.” She rubs her hand up his chest and looks back at me. “Nothing wrong with taking a break now and again.”
Blondie walks over. “You ready to get out of here?”
“I am.” I stand.
Cowboy looks over the head of the chick sitting on his lap, wearing his hat. “Leaving so soon, man?”
“Yeah. See you guys around.”
“See you on the road?” Nour asks.
I know I’ll see them when we’re in the same towns, hell maybe one of them will get called up and I’ll be playing against them. “See you on the road.”
“Am I coming with?” the blonde asks.
“Sure.”
Walking into the training center’s gym, I’m kind of surprised no one else is here. Then again, most of the other players’ families are here for the picnic and exhibition game tomorrow.
I set down my bag, pull out my phone, shove it in my pocket and then take out my AirPods, pop them in. Stretching, I make my way to the treadmill to get my heart pumping and my body warmed up.
Straddling the belt, I stretch my arms across my chest; my left then my right, both feeling really good.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit play. ‘Bringing Down The Giant’ by Saving Abel is a recent add. A basic fuck you to the nonbelievers, the ones who doubted I’d bring it back around, the ones who judged me. And, like most haters—people who judge—they do it knowing damn well they aren’t perfect, that they’ve fucked up and are throwing shade.
“And they can all suck my dick,” I mumble as I hop on the moving belt and hit it hard.
A little over forty minutes later, ‘Kick Ass’ by Egypt Central is cheering me on, fueling the fire inside of me. My heart is definitely pumping as I straddle the belt again and shut the machine down.
Wiping the sweat off my head with a towel, I head to my bag to grab my water bottle, same one I bought Doc yesterday. Doc, who hasn’t sent me a text yet. Doc, who woke me up hard again and almost took me off my schedule.
Doc. Ellis. Sweets. My more than maybe baby’s momma—this confirmed by the kind of bitch I have avoided my entire life.
“Doc?”
Ellis is standing there, messy bun on top of her head, in yoga pants and a tank top, clipboard in hand.
Georgie comes running out of the office, skidding to a stop next to Ellis, hands on her hips, and asks, “Mommy, are you gonna put his workout in the check now?”
Ellis looks down at her. “We’re still just spectators, Georgie.”
“But he didn’t do yogurt.”
She smiles then looks up at me.
“You have something to critique, Doc?”
“How much stretching did you do before you ran?”
“A little bit. The jog warmed up my muscles.”
Georgie tugs on the hem of her tank top. “Mommy, you gotta tell him he’s gotta make rubber band muscles or he’ll break them.”
She shakes her head. “We’re here to watch.”
“We watched a bunch of the games when he played with the bad guys.”
“The Yanks aren’t bad guys. They did what they had to do.”
Georgie looks confused then shrugs. “Okay, whatever you say, sweaty Flynn.”
“Dear Lord, Georgie.” She almost laughs, almost, but she definitely turns a pretty shade of pink.
“You think I look like Flynn?” I do the eyebrow dance thing, and she does a growling belly laugh while grinning from ear-to-ear.
Ellis shakes her head in amusement and frustration. “Can you go and color me another picture of Rapunzel?”
“Okay, but she’s gonna be purple still.”
“All right,” she says as Georgie runs back into the office.
“So, I’m Flynn, huh?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard nothing but how awesome the hotel is and how cool her two new best friends are.”
“Make sure she knows the room is compliments of her mom. You should get some credit. It’s part of your employment package. So is travel per diem. Make sure that money hits your account if it hasn’t already.”
“What?”
“Yeah, like a hundred bucks a day for food and money to comp your airfare.”
“Shut up,” she gasps quietly.
“Will do, right after you check me on my workout.”
Smiling, she shakes her head. “Just doing an audit.”
“What are you? The IRS?”
“Numbers are not my thing, so that is a hard no.”
“Kind of guessed that about you.” I wink. “Still no text messages.”
“I didn’t need anything.”
Wanting to prolong the conversation, I ask, “How are you feeling this morning?”
“The hot water with the ginger slice, and a plain bagel took the nausea away. I thank you for that. And if Miss Georgie had remembered her manners, and not been so excited to be here and see one of her new best friends, she would’ve thanked you for the yogurts. It’s her favorite kind.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“How about you finish up your workout so I can get a full picture of your daily routine? Then I can draw up a plan and make adjustments where needed.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The ballfield is packed for the family picnic. There are bouncy houses, food, drinks, and merch tents, as well as carnival-like games, all themed New Jersey Jaguars. Luna is dragging me around, looking for Georgie, which is perfect since I’m looking for her hot little momma.
Most of my teammates are standing with their family members, looking like they would rather be anywhere but here. Only a couple of the guys are playing with their kids. A stark contrast to what I am used to with my family. Kind of fucking sad, actually.
“There’s Georgie!” Luna squeals.
She spots her climbing into the teal-colored, cave-shaped bounce house. Ellis is holding a small stuffed jaguar, wearing a cute white sundress and a gorgeous smile.
/> “Come on, Uncle My.” Luna drags me toward them.
After peeling off her sandals, she scurries inside, and I walk around to where Ellis is standing, holding her camera phone and taking a video of Georgie, who is now bouncing around with Luna, both squealing.
“I could legit stand here all day, looking at you watching that girl of yours, but you’d probably think I was a creeper.”
She sniffs, and I watch a tear fall down her flawless face.
I move closer and restrain myself from wiping it away. “You okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” She bats it away. “Just nice to see her like this.”
“Guessing you two haven’t had a lot of time to vacation with you being a bad-ass boss babe and getting your doctorate?”
She shakes her head. “I sometimes wonder if I should have just—”
“Given up on yourself?”
She shrugs. “I would have had more of these moments.”
“You took a dream and did the work to make it a reality. You’ll have a lifetime of these moments now.”
“I’m proud of myself.”
“As you should be.” I don’t ask her if her folks showed her that they are proud of her. I can tell they didn’t. “Takes a strong person to do what you’ve done; made sure you set the path to make a good life for you and her.”
“Yeah, well, dreams and paths somehow have a way of changing the way the future looks.”
“You talking about the little one causing chaos in your stomach?”
She stiffens and looks at me briefly out of the corner of her eye as she tucks her phone into her crossbody purse. “I won’t get an abor—”
“Never said anything about that.”
“And I don’t judge others for making that choice, but for me, it will never happen.”
“Good to know.”
She turns and looks at me, dumbstruck.
“What?”
She shakes her head and gives me a tight I’m-holding-my-tongue kind of smile.
“I want a baseball team size family.”
“Well, you’re in the right profession.”
Laughing, I ask, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Look around.”
I nod toward the bouncy house with a slide. “I see The Pope and his five kids. He needs four more to fill the field. Not sure his wife is up to that, but I bet it’s crossed his mind.”
“Aw … but he’s only thirty-two; wife number two and three will probably fulfill that fantasy.”
“Guessing you’re not looking close enough to see how he looks at her.”
“What?” She scrunches up her nose, looking just like Georgie. It’s adorable.
“You’re a physical therapist, Ellis. Part of it’s in the body language. I bet, right now, he’s looking at her, and if he’s not, it’s because he hasn’t caught sight of her in the crowd yet. But when he’s standing next to her, his body is angled toward her, closing himself off to everyone around him, because he doesn’t want anyone to interrupt the one moment he may have with her in private all day. He smiles when she smiles. He looks for any opportunity to touch her. He’d be protective, and at times, she may think it’s a bit over the top and a bit possessive, but he’s willing to sleep on the couch, or hell, even across the hall, until she realizes he just can’t fucking help himself.”
Until that last bit, she watched them. Or, at least I think she was. I sure as hell wasn’t. I was watching her. At that last bit, she turned and looked at me.
A smile on her face, she’s giggling silently. “You’re not even looking at them. How do you …?” She stops, and her mouth opens in an O.
I don’t stop. I keep going. “I can guarantee, when he met her, he knew immediately he wanted her more than he’s ever wanted anything. I can guarantee that he played it all sorts of fucking cool when he left her that first time. He touched her, but he left. And I can guarantee he was regretting it immediately. But he was confident she’d call him, so confident in fact that he gave her his number on one of the ten baseball cards he’s carried in his wallet since he was twelve years old because he set his mind to having his own card one day. Those cards he could never imagine giving to anyone. In fact, when he realized it was missing, he was sure someone had stolen it at the accident scene. And I can guarantee, if his brain went to sleep and he couldn’t remember an entire twenty-four hour period, didn’t even remember what was no doubt the hottest sexual moment of his and her lifetime, he’d still dream about her.”
“Mommy!” Georgie calls from behind us. “Luna said Uncle My could win me a huge jaguar.”
I give her a wink then turn to Georgie. “I haven’t thrown a ball in a hot minute, Georgie, but I can try.”
Family Daze
Amias won Georgie and Luna, and then Cooper and Archer, the biggest jaguars at the pitching game, and he’s not even a pitcher. Then he gave me a quick escape from the family day when I was getting tired. Apparently Georgie and I had to get the jaguars back so they didn’t get dirty.
After tucking them into the king-sized bed, and a short nap, we took a car—thanks to my per diem— to Clearwater Beach, where we played in the sand, took a million pictures, ate lunch at an outside café, and then Georgie and I went and got our second ever mani-pedi—the first was for Lily’s wedding. When we came back to the hotel, we immediately got in the pool, where the entire Steel family was hanging out, enjoying the sun.
Max and Amias were in the pool with Cooper and Archer on their shoulders, playing chicken. Within minutes, Luna was on her Poppa Jase’s shoulders, and Zandor, Amias’s father, scooped up Georgie, plopped her on his shoulders, and headed in. Within seconds, Brisa and Bekah pulled me to a chaise lounge under a big umbrella and ordered me a virgin strawberry daiquiri.
I sat and listened to stories about virtually every member of this crazy big, crazy loud, crazy close, and just crazy in what I think is a good way, family. Brisa hit heavy on the stories about Amias. About him not ever dating, on his focus, on how their father raised him to respect women.
They ordered dinner and insisted we eat with them poolside, and then Luna asked if Georgie could stay the night with her.
Georgie has never had a sleepover with anyone her age, and very few with even my friends when I had something … okay, that one thing to do, that one thing she wasn’t involved in—Lily’s bachelorette party.
Walking out of Bella and her family’s suite, without Georgie, my stomach is in knots. I know she’s in her glory, and I also know she’s exhausted and will be passed out within an hour.
Georgie isn’t the only one who’s exhausted. I am, too.
Stepping off the elevator, I see Amias, AirPods in, workout clothes on, walking into a room, directly across the hall from our suite.
Right. Across. The. Hall.
What the hell?
Once inside my room, I lean against the door and hold my hand over my belly, my belly that’s hosting a butterfly party.
He’s insanely gorgeous, and all the things he said that night and today, and every time he opens his mouth, his words … his maybe promises … causes my head to spin like a top. But what happens when that dizzying effect wears off and my head, like a top, starts to wobble. What if his head … if it’s spinning like mine is—which, by the way, it totally seems to be very focused and sure—what if that top spins out of control?
Reality is, I’m having his baby. But also real, I never intended on seeing him again. I was sure I’d never have come face-to-face with him. And now I have to remind myself that he’s not at all like I thought he was. Not at freaking all.
But I never thought Georgie’s father, or my own, could act the way they did either.
No. Nope. Just no. They will not take up anymore of my time.
Walking over to the table, I set my purse on it then pull out my phone and my wallet. I open my wallet and pull out the card. Then I tap his number into my phone and I type out a message.
Me: Do you have a twin?
Him: Ellis?
Me: Maybe.
Him: Definitely. I don’t give out my digits.
Me: Yes, it’s Ellis.
My heart is pounding hard against my chest, my head is spinning, and I swear even in the air-conditioned room, I start to sweat.
Him: Adding you to my contacts. Gonna have to get a picture of you to add to it. Until then, I’ll add one of the ones I already have.
Me: What do you mean, you already have?
Him: That’s a Jersey conversation.
Me: You’re pretty set on taking this to Jersey, huh?
Him: Gotta keep my head in the game. I’m batting for more than bragging rights this time around.
Batting, he hasn’t even swung a bat since before the accident.
I hit up good old Google and smile to myself. Then I send the most brazen text I’ve ever sent.
Me: Meet me in front of the hotel in ten?
Him: Gotta shower first. Give me fifteen?
Me: Don’t shower. Come as you are.
Him: Mmmk
Me: Is that a yes?
Him: Of course it’s a yes.
Nine minutes later and changed into yoga pants and a tank top, I walk out of my room and look left as he walks onto the elevator.
Being alone with him in a confined space like that seems too intimate an atmosphere, so I decide to take the stairs. Thankfully, ten flights are no problem. I’m pretty sure it would have been a different story in the morning hours.
Hurrying down the hall toward the front of the hotel, in hopes of beating him, I see him walk off the elevator, followed by a bunch of women eye-banging his ass and whispering. He hasn’t a clue, though. His ball cap covers his eyes, AirPods in his ears, and his head is bowed, looking at his phone.
I stay close to the wall and attempt to hurry past him and beat him outside when he reaches out and grabs my hand.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
A bubble of surprised laughter bursts. “I wanted to beat you outside.”
“Yeah?” he asks, still holding my hand and pulling out one of the AirPods.
“Yeah,” I admit, trying to ignore the tingles spreading up my hand, my arms, my … tits.