The Pickup (Imperfect Love Book 1)
Page 14
“All right,” Coach yells. “Head on over to the weight room and give me an hour and then we’re done for the day. Nick, wait back a minute.” I jog over to Coach Harper, and he waits until everyone has cleared the field to speak. “You’re not yourself today. How’s your arm feeling?”
“It’s solid,” I answer truthfully.
“Good. Then what’s going on?”
“Just some personal shit. I’ll get my head back in the game.”
“Okay,” he says, not pressing me for more. “After your workout, want to get a session in?” Coach Harper has been my biggest supporter since he picked me up last year. He’s stayed after everyone’s left to help me more times than I can count. I’ve missed working out with him these last few weeks.
“I would, but I told Liv I’d pick her up for Reed’s check-up.” Coach nods, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“I heard what you did on New Year’s Eve.” Unsure of what he’s referring to, I give him a puzzled look.
“You spent the night so Reed would be home.”
“I fell asleep…”
“You didn’t have to do that. You have no idea how much that meant to Olivia. I know the day will come when you’ll pick up your son, and she’ll have to accept that she’s in a co-parenting situation, but thank you for giving her a little bit of time.”
“What if it didn’t have to be that way?”
“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side.
“What if I wanted to be more than parents with her?”
“Are you asking my permission to date my daughter? While you’re engaged?” He shoots me a look of disappointment.
“I called off the engagement. Celeste is moving her stuff out when she gets back from Milan.” Coach nods slowly, taking a second to think about what I’ve told him.
“I’ve never been in this situation. The first time I fell in love was with Olivia’s mom, and I loved her until the day she died. The second time was with Corrine. It was a few years after Francesca died. I never imagined I would fall in love again, and at first, I felt so damn guilty for moving on. But when I called Olivia and told her, she said, ‘Dad, we don’t decide who we love; the world decides for us. And if Corrine is who you love, you can’t turn your back on it. Nobody should be without love.’”
Coach Harper smiles in memory. “My daughter has always believed in true love, probably more than most. She believes in the happily-ever-after—the fairytales you see in the Disney movies—and it’s my fault. What her mother and I had was pretty damn close to what you see in those movies, and even when times were tough, we never let her see those moments. She grew up believing that’s how love should be. Now I’m afraid one day she’ll wake up and lose her belief that true love exists. She’s already made comments about that dumbass Victor cheating on her. And then to top it off, she’s being so hard on herself over how Reed was created.” He shakes his head, and I’m stunned by the turn this conversation has taken. This is the same man who drills us every day on the field, and he’s talking about Disney movies and fairytales and shit.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is before you make a move on my daughter, you need to figure out if you believe in love. If you’re willing to give her, her happily-ever-after. Because if you aren’t, stick to co-parenting. Let her find the guy who can give her what she deserves. My daughter deserves her fairytale ending.”
I know exactly the kind of love Olivia wants because it’s the same kind I want.
“Regardless of what happens, I’m here for you. You’re the father of my grandson. No matter where you end up at the end of this season, or in life, I’m only a phone call away.”
“Thank you, Coach.”
Fifteen
Olivia
Because of Nick being well-known in the area—and the fact that he’s three games away from bringing the team to their first Super Bowl game in well over a decade—the nurse had to rush us back to a room. I didn’t even think about it when I made the appointment as I didn’t plan on him attending.
“If you could please fill out this paperwork, I’ll be back in a few minutes to collect it and then the doctor will be in to check out your son.” The nurse hands me a clipboard of papers and walks out, closing the door behind her. Nick is standing against the counter, holding Reed in his arms, and I can’t help but smile at how adorable they are. Our son looks like a tiny little peanut when he’s laying against his father’s muscular forearms. Nick is wearing a New York Brewers T-shirt that accentuates his muscles in all the right places, and Reed is in a matching onesie. When Nick arrived to pick us up, he handed me a small bag with the onesie inside. Since I hadn’t gotten Reed dressed yet, I put it on him. We both took several pictures, and I sent one to my dad.
I get busy filling out the paperwork while Nick talks to Reed. “…so then I threw the ball to Killian for the touchdown, but the ball slipped out of his fingers like his gloves were lined with butter. He better get it under control…” I glance up, and Reed is staring at his father like he knows what he’s talking about. My heart stutters and then flutters at the beautiful sight in front of me. Without Nick seeing, I pull my phone out and snap a picture of them.
Putting my phone away, I go back to filling out the paperwork, when I hear Nick say, “Whoa there, buddy. What did your mom feed you?” When I glance back up, his face is contorted into a look of disgust.
Setting down the clipboard, I reach into the diaper bag and pull out a diaper and wipes. “I can do it,” Nick offers, taking the items from my hand. I’m about to argue with him but instead hand over the items.
“Thanks,” I say, then go back to filling out the paperwork. A minute or so later, I hear “Holy shit! Dude, what the heck did you do? It’s like a shit bomb blew up in here.” I giggle softly but continue what I’m doing.
“Umm…Liv, can you get me more wipes?” His question comes out muffled, and when I look up, he appears to be paler than a few minutes ago. The bottom half of his face is hidden under the collar of his shirt, and he’s making a gagging sound.
Grabbing the wipes container, I jump up to help him out and about die at the scene in front of me.
“Oh my God!” I crack up laughing. There’s shit everywhere! All over the baby, the table, Nick’s hands. “What happened?” I cackle, and Nick glares.
“What the heck are you feeding this kid, Liv?” He gags again, grabbing the wipes from me.
“It’s just formula.” I shrug. I pull some more wipes out and start wiping up the poop, which is everywhere. I strip down Reed, who doesn’t seem fazed at all by any of this. Nick grabs the diaper and gags again while wrapping it up.
“Bad gag reflex?” I joke.
“Oh, c’mon! That smell should be considered toxic. Did you see the fumes rising from his ass?” Nick says as he washes his hands in the sink. He’s dead serious and that only makes me laugh harder.
We get Reed cleaned up and get a fresh diaper on him, but I don’t bother dressing him, knowing the doctor will just ask to remove his clothes. Instead, I wrap him up in a blanket and hand him back to Nick so I can wash my hands and finish filling out the paperwork.
“Knock, knock.” The pediatrician comes in, closing the door behind her. “My name is Dr. Fox.” She shakes Nick’s hand then mine. I’ve met her a couple times before, but this is her first time meeting Nick. She has Nick lay Reed on his back. “And how is Reed doing?” She begins to examine him, taking his temperature and checking his heartbeat. Nick stands over her the entire time while I answer the questions. We go over how much he’s eating and what percentile he’s in for height and weight—he’s above average for both.
When she’s all done, she says, “Okay, he’s getting three shots today. The nurse will come in and explain what they’re for. Once she’s done, you can check out in the front and make his next appointment.”
She shakes both of our hands one more time and then leaves.
“What does she mean three shots?” Nick looks at me
horrified. It’s then I remember he wasn’t there at Reed’s post-birth appointment a couple weeks ago.
“Babies get a lot of shots their first year.” Nick picks up a now-whimpering Reed and holds him close to his chest. He’s still in only his diaper.
The nurse comes in with the syringes on a tray. She explains the three shots he will be getting and gives me a pamphlet of information for each one. “Okay, Dad. You can hold him just like you’re doing, and I’ll get the shots in from right here.” Nick’s eyes shoot to mine, the first look of fear I’ve ever seen from the man. I haven’t spent much time with him, but when I have, he’s full of confidence in everything.
The nurse sticks Reed with the first shot and his whimpering turns into a high-pitched scream. Nick backs away from the nurse before she can get the second shot in. “Nope! Not happening.” He backs up a little more until he’s in the corner, comforting Reed.
“You’re just going to let her do this to our son?” he says to me, accusingly. I let the judgment go because he’s only being a protective dad.
“He needs these shots to protect him. Do you want me to hold him?” I put my hands out, and he shakes his head.
“No, forget this. He’s crying.” Tears are racing down Reed’s face, and Nick is trying to soothe him.
“It will be over quick, I promise,” the nurse says, and Nick shoots her a glare that has her flinching. If he wasn’t so serious, this entire situation would almost be comical.
“Easy for you to say.” Nick’s hands tighten around Reed’s tiny body. “You’re not the one being stabbed with needles.” I grab his pacifier from the diaper bag and use it to calm him down. He immediately stops crying, and the room goes quiet.
“Ready?” the nurse asks Nick, who looks like he’s a wild animal trapped in the corner with nowhere to go but into a cage. He nods slowly and starts talking softly to Reed about football like he was doing earlier. The nurse pricks Reed two more times and he lets out another cry, his pacifier falling from his mouth. I catch it and push it back in while Nick continues to sway him gently in an effort to calm him.
* * *
“Surely, with all the medical advancements they’ve made, they can find a better way to give a baby a shot,” Nick drones on over the entire shot experience that he’s clearly more traumatized over than the baby who actually got the shots and is sound asleep in his car seat.
We’re sitting in one of the more well-known restaurants in East Village. As we were leaving the doctor’s office, Nick mentioned lunch, and I reluctantly agreed. Then Giselle called at the same time Killian did, and Nick suggested they join us. So here we are, the five of us—including Reed—eating a late lunch at the French Bistro.
Because it’s January in New York and freezing, we have to eat inside. Nick called ahead, and once we arrived we were whisked back to a private room that looks like it usually holds fifty people. He definitely gets good dad points for this one. He’s sitting next to me, and while I know it’s wrong, I can’t help pretend that instead of us being here as just Reed’s parents, we’re here as a couple. I’ve seen a different side of Nick today. Not the same guy as the night I met him—who was straight up sexy as hell—but a softer, gentler side. The kind of guy I see in my father.
“Don’t kids get like a hundred shots over their lifetime?” Killian points out, and if I knew him better, I’d kick him from under the table. Giselle, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care that she doesn’t know Killian, because a couple seconds later he screeches like a little girl. “Oww!! What the hell!” His eyes dart around the table until they land on Giselle. “Did you just kick me?”
“Not helping,” she hisses, and I laugh.
“So, game two of the playoffs,” I say, changing the subject.
Nick grins ear-to-ear, nodding and reminding me a lot of my dad when football is mentioned. “Hell yeah. We got this!” Nick exclaims. His arm goes around the back of me, his forearm resting on the top of my chair.
“And we’re going to be in Miami. We’re definitely going to be getting lit after we win that game,” Killian adds, raising his fist to hit Nick’s, but Nick shakes his head. Killian lowers his fist and takes a sip of his drink.
Giselle shoots me a look, and I shrug.
Nick leans in close to me, his cool breath hitting my neck. “Don’t listen to anything Killian says, ever.” Then he leans in even closer. “I was actually thinking that maybe you and Reed could join me. Eighty degrees and sunshine.” I turn my head and have to back up slightly so our faces don’t bump.
Nick waggles his eyebrows, and I’m at a complete loss. I know his offer is innocent, but my body doesn’t necessarily understand that.
“I—” I clear my throat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Giselle’s birthday is this week, so we’re going to do a girls’ day.” Giselle gives me a confused look but goes along with it. It really is her birthday, but we hadn’t solidified any plans yet.
“Yeah, I’m turning the big two-five,” she says. “We’re going to spend the day at the spa.”
“Okay.” He nods in understanding. “Next time.”
Sixteen
Nick
It’s been a little over a month since my life was forever changed with the birth of my son. We’ve won all three of our playoff games, which means this coming weekend we’ll be playing in the Super Bowl. Because the game will be in Denver, I won’t be able to see Reed or Olivia this weekend. I haven’t taken him for the night since New Year’s Eve, and we haven’t discussed it, but I make sure to see him several times a week. I usually come by every Tuesday and Thursday and one day during the weekend depending on which day we’re playing or if we’re out of town.
Olivia has put up an impenetrable wall when it comes to me. It’s tall and concrete, and I haven’t got a clue how the fuck I’m going to break it down. Sure, she’ll send photos of Reed when I ask, but if I try to find a crack in her wall, try to sneak in through a crevice, she’s right there, spackling the shit out of it, making sure I have no way in.
I’ve tried to text her several times, asking how she’s doing or what she’s up to, but she keeps it all about Reed. When I ask her to lunch or dinner, she comes up with some excuse as to why she can’t go.
After practice, I’m planning to spend the afternoon with her and Reed, and I’m hoping maybe while he’s napping, we can discuss the possibility of us. I’ve thought long and hard about what her dad said. And I know, had she left me her number that morning in the hotel room, I would have sought her out. That night was completely different than anything I’ve experienced, and I want to see if given the chance, we could work.
Since I needed clarification on what Coach meant, I made Killian watch a Disney princess movie with me. His niece owns a bunch of them, so I had him snag one and bring it over. He thought I’d lost my mind, but I needed to know what I’m working with here. Which play is going to land me the touchdown.
“Here ya go!” He flings the DVD at me. “Planning to become one with your inner-princess self?” He chuckles and plops his ass onto the couch.
“Fuck you. I need to see how it goes.”
“How the movie goes? I can give you a play-by-play. My niece makes me watch this crap every time I babysit, so my brother and his wife can go out for some adult time. The girl seeks love, there’s an evil queen who tries to fuck it up, there’s a throw down of some sort, the prince saves her, and they live happily ever after. The end.”
I stare at him in silence. Clearly, there’s more to this shit than that. “Let’s just watch the damn movie.”
“First tell me why,” Killian insists.
“Liv’s dad said she wants the fairytale. He even compared it to a Disney movie. Usually the key to a woman’s heart is through my bank account, but not when it comes to Liv. She’s not letting me in. So, I’m going to figure out how to give it to her.”
“The bank account?”
“No! The fairytale!”
“You’re fucking nuts, man.
Fairytale’s aren’t real. What you need to watch is Daddy’s Home.” He cackles, and I lift one brow, silently asking him to explain. “You know…the one where the dad and the stepdad are forced to get along. It’s hilarious and more accurate in our generation.”
“What happens in the movie?”
“The stepdad wants the kids to love him, but the real dad comes in and messes it up. Eventually they all co-exist.”
I grab my pillow and throw it at him. “I’m not preparing for Olivia to end up with another guy!”
“You really like this woman, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. I really liked her when I spent the night with her, but as you know, she left without leaving her number. Now I feel like I’ve been given a second chance, and I don’t want to fuck it up. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.”
“Damn…going soft on me.” Killian laughs.
“Shut the hell up. Now watch this fucking movie with me or leave.”
“Fine…but after your fairytale shit doesn’t work, we’re watching Daddy’s Home.”
We watch the movie, and I take notes. Here’s what I’ve learned about fairytales through Sleeping Beauty:
The princess is beautiful yet helpless—Olivia isn’t helpless.
There’s an evil bitch who—like Killian mentioned—fucks shit up—kind of reminds me of my mom.
The parents send Aurora away—which is nothing like Olivia’s life—unless you count her leaving to Paris after her mom died.
There’s a whole lot of singing—I wonder if Olivia can sing, and I hope she doesn’t want me to.
Princess Aurora sees the prince and falls in love with him after they dance together—I can handle that.
She’s being forced to marry the guy she doesn’t love—Olivia would never do shit she doesn’t want to do.