Looking at him now, I am once again floored by how handsome he is. Levi is far from average. He’s hot. I can’t believe I, someone so average, scored someone of his caliber, but I did and I will forever have a reminder of our time together.
Meeting his eyes, I inhale a steeling breath. It’s now or never. “You are,” I confess. “This is your baby, Levi.”
19
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This is not happening. I couldn’t have heard her right. Vista did not just tell me that she’s having my baby.
“So, what do you think?”
What do I think? Is she kidding me? “I need to sit down.” Before I pass the fuck out. I glance around the room, but all I see are giant fucking pieces of exercise equipment. Where are the benches? The chairs? Shit, I feel light-headed.
“Here, come sit on the mat.”
Vista takes my arm to guide me down, but I can’t feel a damn thing. It’s like my body doesn’t even exist anymore. Am I having a stroke?
“You’re looking kind of pale. I’ll be right back, okay?”
I don’t have the strength to respond. As I watch her go, my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts ranging from how the fuck could this have happened to what the fuck am I going to do about it? There’s only one answer that makes sense here: I’ve officially entered the Twilight Zone.
Never in my life have I been irresponsible when it came to sex...until Vista came into my life. There is just something about the woman that makes me feel reckless, like nothing in the world matters except how much time I can steal with her. It’s been that way since the day we met. Not once did we use protection while she was staying with me. Not. Once. I knew better, and yet I did it anyway.
Is the kid mine? I’d love more than anything to deny it, but there’s no way she’d lie to me. Not about this. Vista isn’t that kind of woman. She’s never come after me for my money or what I can give her. She’s the truest person I know, so when she says it’s mine, I believe her. It’s just...holy shit! I’m not ready to be a father. I’m not father material. Not by a long shot.
My father was right. I’m an irresponsible dick.
I’m considering kicking my own ass when she walks back into the room carrying a paper cup in one hand and a stack of cookies in the other.
“Juice and a cookie,” she says as she offers them to me. “They’ll help raise your blood sugar so you don’t pass out on my floor.”
“I’m not going to pass out,” I mumble as I take a bite out of the cookie. It’s chocolate chip, one of those little hard circle kind from a package you buy at a grocery store. It probably has an annoying little elf on the front and everything. Normally, I prefer freshly baked, but I’m surprised to find that these don’t totally suck. I finish the thing off in two bites then hold out my hand for more.
“What?”
“I’m ready for another.”
Vista, munching on a cookie of her own, looks at me like I’m touched in the head. “Oh, you thought these were for you? No. Nope. These are all mine.”
I watch her devour a second cookie and start in on a third, surprised. “Didn’t your mother teach you how to share?” I ask, pretending to be appalled by her stingy behavior. In reality, I think it’s cute. I love that she’s still comfortable enough around me to tease me. That’s promising, right?
“I was an only child. I guess it spoiled me, but you should know something about that, right?” She tilts her head, a playful smile curling the corners of her lips up.
I narrow my gaze. I know she’s only playing, but damn. The fact that it’s true adds just enough of a sting to make me cringe. Does she have to put it like that? It’s damaging to a man’s ego. Not mine, of course, but other men, surely.
“Well, at least I still have this juice.” Bringing the cup up, I stop when it’s halfway to my lips and lift a sardonic brow. “Unless you brought this for you, too.”
“Oh, no. Juice gives me heartburn.”
Her comment reminds me of the little problem we’ve got going on. This time, the snack seems to keep me levelheaded, though, so any danger of kissing the floor is off the table. “Guess we were a little late on those condoms, huh?”
My attempt to infuse the situation with a little humor falls flat. There isn’t much that’s funny about getting hit with an unexpected pregnancy. With that thought, I toss back the rest of the juice.
“Heh, yeah. I guess we got a little carried away, huh?” I watch her rub her hand over her stomach, wincing when I see that tiny round bump beneath her loose fitting shirt, and I feel my blood pressure plummet all over again.
“How—” My voice catches and I have to clear my throat before I can speak. “How far along are you?” Maybe it’s not too late to fix this. Maybe we can still—
“Around five months,” she says, shooting that thought straight into the garbage. I may not avail myself of womanly crap too often, but I know enough about the reproductive process to know that we’re way beyond the point of fixing anything. We’ve crossed the point of no return.
“Are you freaking out?” Vista asks, looking at me with this mix of knowing and concern. “Because you look like you’re freaking out.”
“I’m fine.” I bristle at the question. Not because she means anything offensive by it, but because I realize that she expects me to throw a fit or walk away or, hell, maybe both.
I can’t say that I really blame her. As far as she’s concerned, my modus operandi has always been to cut and run when the going gets tough. To a degree, I suppose it’s true. I don’t form relationships with people beyond a night between the sheets because of this very thing. I don’t want attachments or commitment, and I definitely don’t need people depending on me for anything. I just want to live my life free of worry and obligations. I want my life to be mine, dammit! Is that so much to ask?
I feel like screaming and shouting and throwing things. This isn’t how I want my life to go. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Then why are you here? The voice in my head stops me cold.
I’m being a total dick, aren’t I?
After Vista walked out of my life for a second time, I was hurt. I didn’t know how to tell her everything that was going on inside my head, and I was certain she wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. She was upset with me, and rightfully so. I’ve spent the last four years regretting how I handled that night. The day after was even worse. Definitely not one of my better moments. I should have taken the time to explain to her what had happened between my father and me instead of using that random girl as a place card. I never should have left her to form her own conclusions. That look on her face when she saw us together still kills me to this day.
I never should have let my father tell me how to live my life.
That’s the part that pisses me off the most. It’s not that she did anything wrong. It was all me. I let my father use his weight and influence to shape my thinking, to inform my decisions. I was still too young and immature to have the balls to stand up to him and tell him what I wanted. I didn’t have it in me then to go after her. Instead, I forced her to walk away by hurting her.
Vista coming back into my life changed everything. It changed me. I found the courage to stand up to my father and take charge of my life. When our parents caught us in that pool and my father revealed the motive behind me leaving her back when we were teenagers, I was momentarily thrust back into my eighteen-year-old self, powerless to fight back. By the time I realized that I was letting old habits die hard, the damage had already been done.
Vista no longer trusted me. She looked at me like I was a stranger. All I saw was the hurt and anger inside of her, reminding me of that damn wedding all over again, and I buckled. How could I tell the woman I was falling in love with that I needed her to stay when all she wanted was to get away from me?
In the end, I had to let her go. I know my father better than anyone, and I knew that he was going to punish me for going against him. If Vista stuck around, she’d become part of that war. And I w
as right. After she left, my father went on a rampage. He told me exactly what he expected of me. He dictated my every move, where I went, who I spent time with. Everything. He had me heading back onto the field less than a week later like he promised.
I’ve been on it ever since.
I went along with whatever he wanted, too broken inside to function on my own. I was on autopilot, his puppet with strings. Until Lara, my stepmother, shook me from my self-imposed daze.
It was over dinner. Lara invited me over, and she was so hopeful, I couldn’t say no. The entire meal was tense, but not for a lack of conversation. David was all too eager to tell us about his deal with Vista and how she had cut ties with him. He mocked her ability to make it without his money and connections. Just the way he spoke about her, with that same condescending tone that he uses on me, pinched a nerve.
I knew Vista. She was one of the smartest people I’d ever met, and if anyone could be a success, it was her. Hell, she showed more courage throwing his money to the curb and venturing off on her own than I have my whole life. I couldn’t be more fucking proud of her. He thought she couldn’t make it? I decided right then and there to prove his smug ass wrong.
That night, while on a plane to Florida for my next game, I started pulling together a plan. I knew I couldn’t keep doing this. I needed to cut the bullshit, stop following my father’s edict, and extract myself from this life, to put distance between me and the man behind the wheel.
I’ve walked onto every field since then with my head held high and the knowledge that I was on my way toward an independent future—one free of David Black—driving me.
We haven’t lost a single game yet. Despite the rocky start, they’re calling it my best season and I have more endorsement offers and press coverage than I know what to do with, but I’m finding that I love it. Every damn minute of it. At one time I told Vista that I wasn’t sure I wanted to play anymore. I’d lost my passion for the game, but now I know that it wasn’t the game that was the problem. It was my father and his need to control every aspect of it. He’d set the bar so high that no man could reach it, and it’d sucked the fun right out of it.
Now, knowing that I’m working toward my freedom, I feel empowered. Now, I’m playing for me. I’m playing for the woman I love. And I’m playing for the little person who will one day look up to me.
With my plan in place, and with my buddy Vincent’s help, I figured out where Vista was. Not that she was hiding or anything. Since she’d never taken to using my father’s name and refused his money and business contacts, I knew she’d need help and David Black isn’t the only one who has connections. Then, by some stroke of luck, I heard that she was looking for someone to partner up with, giving me the in I needed. I saw my opportunity and, like any good businessman, capitalized on it.
Through a friend, I ponied up the money and ensured that she had the help of a private investor, providing her with a silent partner—me, in a roundabout way. I’ve always found her drive and determination impressive, but this venture has made her shine. She’s pushed through any and every obstacle that’s stood in her way. Sure, I may have greased the wheels a bit, but all the hard work was hers. I don’t know a lot about business, but I’ve never heard of a person accomplishing what she has in as little time as she’s done it in. That said, she’d have my balls if she knew I was behind it.
So why am I here? Arriving to that answer hasn’t been easy. I wasn’t lying when I told her that I was in the area, but Ohio is a big place, and the hotel I’m supposed to be staying at with the rest of my team is miles away. That didn’t keep me from hopping on my bike and driving through the better half of the day to see her though.
I questioned myself a dozen times on the way. But now that I’m standing here, with the question staring me in the face, I know I can’t outrun the truth any longer. I’m here because...
I love her.
I knew it the second she walked out the door. Three little words. They’re so simple, yet so unbelievably terrifying. I always told myself I’d never say those words. That I’d never let a woman get that close. But here I am, looking at the one woman who was always going to be the one. I knew it four years ago, and I know it now. The reason I held that part of myself away from the world was because it already belonged to her.
Vista Marquis stole a piece of my heart and soul that night in her bedroom and kept it prisoner all these years.
So I guess I am freaking out, as she put it. Just not in the manner she meant it. “I’m not sure how to react to all of this,” I confess to her, holding my head in my hands as I try to process everything. “I came here to...” I stall out, stumbling over the words in my head that I want to say. I settle with, “I just didn’t expect this.”
“Are you mad at me? Is that it?” she asks me, her voice small but hard, like she’s gathering her strength. “Because it takes two to tango, you know.”
I chuckle under my breath. She’s got a way with words that makes me smile. “You’ve had some time to get used to this. Give me a little time to get caught up, okay?”
She’s silent a moment, and then she nods her head in agreement. So reasonable. I gaze around at the rows of machines, all neat and tidy and ready for tomorrow. I can tell she takes pride in what she’s accomplishing, as she should. I’m proud just to be sitting here. This place is going to make a killing. But that’s not really what’s running through my head. It’s just a distraction for what’s going on beneath the surface, because there’s a question that I need to ask, and I don’t know if I want the answer.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to just spit it out. “When did you plan to tell me about the baby?”
From the corner of my eye, I see her shoulders stiffen. It’s an answer same as any other, but I want to hear it from her. So I wait. And wait.
Finally, when the silence has gone on long enough to make me want to scream, she speaks. “I wasn’t going to say anything. Ever.”
I’m instantly enraged. Red hot anger boils my blood. I ball my fists and knot my arms around my raised knees so I don’t lose my shit and destroy everything in the room. I need something to release my aggression on, and that’s usually a soccer ball, but they’re hard to come by at this hour.
“It wasn’t anything against you,” she says quietly. “I just wanted distance from all of it. You’re a big time soccer player and the cameras are always on you, following you around. If they found out about me or the baby, it would destroy everything. You, me, this baby, my mother, your father. I didn’t want that for any of us.”
Fuck my father. I couldn’t care less if the media sharks rip his whole world apart, but I can understand her reasoning. That doesn’t mean it makes me feel any better. She was ready to cut me out without even asking me how I felt about it.
“I can appreciate you trying to protect our kid, but that’s our kid. That means I get some kind of say in its life.”
“You’re absolutely right,” she agrees, and for some reason, that pisses me off, too.
“You’re damn right I am. Where the hell do you get off keeping this from me?” Unable to sit still any longer, I jump to my feet and start pacing. “So what if I’m famous? So what if people follow me around? So fucking what! Do you think I’d ever let anything happen to my kid? No. Hell no.”
Years of pent up anger and frustration come rushing to the surface and the faster I pace, the more I feel it. “You’re just like the rest of them. You think I’m some irresponsible, worthless shit who’s only capable of kicking a ball into a net. Well, here’s a newsflash for you. I’m made of tougher stock than that! I went to college, I got my degree. I might be rich, but that doesn’t make me dumb!” I shout, throwing my arms out to my sides.
Vista’s eyes are wide, and I can tell that she isn’t certain how to respond. I know I’m going off the rails, but I can’t seem to help myself. It’s like the floodgates have opened, and I can’t stop the water from rushing through.
Getting to her feet, Vista
keeps her distance, and wouldn’t you know it, that angers me even more. She shouldn’t be afraid of me, dammit!
“I understand that you’re upset right now, and you have every right to be, but you’re scaring me right now, so I’m going to ask you nicely to please leave. You can come back when you find some self-control.”
“Oh, I’m controlled, princess. I promise you that,” I say snidely. My whole life is about control lately. “In fact,” I tell her, “you’d be proud of me. I haven’t had a single drink or fucked a single woman since I left Chicago. Do you know why that is?”
She shakes her head, her expression weary.
“It’s because I’ve been working my way back to you. And now that I’m here, you’re sending me away. What the fuck!” I laugh, even though nothing about any of this is remotely funny. “And then I get here and I find out you’re pregnant with my kid and have been hiding it from me?” I throw my hands up.
“You’re not making any sense, Levi. Just leave. Go home, or back to your hotel or whatever, and get some sleep. We can talk more about this tomorrow when you’re feeling more like yourself again.”
Her words cause something inside me to snap. I think it’s just a culmination of everything that has been weighing me down my whole life all coming to a head in this very moment, but it doesn’t make the outcome any different. Or prettier. With more bite to my words that I intend, I tell her, “Fine, you want me gone? You don’t want me in your life? Then you don’t have worry about it anymore. I’m out of here.”
Turning on my heel, I head for the door. I know when I’m not wanted. I’ve spent my life learning how to spot the signs, and I’m done sticking around where I’m not welcome. I’ll make sure Vista and the baby are taken care of, of course, but now I’m free to finally do whatever the hell I want.
Strange, but as I storm from the room I don’t feel free, or even particularly relieved.
“Levi, stop!” Vista chases after me, rushing out into the dark and empty waiting area. “You’re being really immature right now. You know I didn’t mean that I wanted you to go away.”
S.O.B. Page 13