Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “What up, Gibson?”

  I sat up. Standing in the kitchen was my roommate, best friend, and killer running back, Hynes Whaler. He grinned at me, his dark skin lost in the weak overhead light.

  “Fucking dead,” I grunted. “Coach beat my ass.”

  “Oh yeah? He make you do hitting drills today?”

  “Nah,” I said.

  “Damn, because I just got my ass kicked by a bunch of dudes who love nothing more than causing pain.”

  I laughed. “You just described yourself, man.”

  “Maybe. But fuck, brother, these guys do not hold back in these fucking drills.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Although I had a lot of pressure on my head, I was glad I didn’t have to go through tackling drills every day. I was a tall man, pretty big, and muscular for a quarterback, but Hynes was even bigger. The guy was a powerful running back and loved nothing more than crashing up the center of the line, bruising bodies and breaking skulls.

  We got along just fine. He was known for his punishing runs, and I was known for my punishing throws. Plus, I was known to break a tackle or two to keep plays alive.

  “I can’t listen to you complain today, Hynes,” I said, lying back down. “I just need to close my eyes for an hour.”

  “Not today, man,” Hynes said. “Get your ass up. You got studying to do.”

  I groaned. “Not today.”

  “Coach’s fucking orders. You gotta get your ass up.” He threw an empty water bottle at me.

  I groaned, shaking my head. “Fine. Fucking fine.” I sat up and shook my head. “Not only do I have to be the best QB in the country, but I better have a three point five GPA or else.”

  “Damn, and you think I’m complaining today?”

  I threw the bottle back at him and slowly stood up, my muscles sore as hell.

  “By the way,” he said, “some girl came by for you.”

  I sighed. There were a lot of girls coming by for me all the time. Sometimes it was a good thing, but most of the time it was just frustrating. I couldn’t waste an ounce of energy on these girls. All they wanted from me was some fucking star jock to parade around in front of their friends. Granted, I normally just wanted a taste of their little pussy, but still. I hadn’t been with anyone since that night, and I hadn’t even been able to think about it.

  “Who was it this time? Some girl in Ugg boots and a North Face jacket named Ashley?”

  Hynes grinned. “Nah, man. I would’ve taken that one for myself.”

  “Who was it then?”

  “Not sure. Said she needed to talk to you. Sounded kind of serious, actually.”

  I frowned and shook my head. “Not today. I don’t have time for this sorority girl bullshit.”

  “Whatever you say, man. She left her number. It’s on the table.”

  I went over and took a look at it. I paused and frowned at it.

  “What’s the matter?” Hynes asked.

  “Not sure. Number looks familiar.”

  “No shit, man. You’ve got every girl’s number in this whole fucking school.”

  I grinned at him. “Not exactly.”

  “Yeah, exactly.”

  “Fuck off, all right? I have to shower and get the fuck out of here.”

  “Yeah. Don’t be late, or Coach will have you running sprints.”

  I grumbled and walked into the bathroom. I stripped down and hopped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the sweat and grime.

  Hours of football and then tutoring in the evening. This was my life, day after day, working up toward game time. I had class during the morning, practice during the afternoon, and then tutoring at night. I’d get home around nine o’clock and pass out, too tired to do anything but sleep and wake up the next morning.

  But that number was bugging me for some reason. I got out of the shower and cursed when I saw what time it was. I threw on some clothes and headed out the door, hustling to make it to tutoring on time.

  As I walked across campus, I kept thinking about the number. Curious, I got out my phone and typed in the last four digits.

  I paused, staring at the name that popped up on my screen.

  It was Avery, the girl from that night, the last girl I touched, the last girl I tasted. The only girl I wanted another night with.

  “Fuck,” I said out loud, spooking some freshman walking nearby. I didn’t need this, knew I should ignore it, but I had already hit the call button and was holding the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” she answered after two rings.

  “Didn’t get enough that night?” I asked her.

  She paused. “Hi, Gibson.”

  “I thought you’d call eventually,” I said, finding myself grinning as I talked. “You’ve been thinking about that night. Can’t get the way my cock felt sliding deep inside you out of your head, can you?”

  There was a short pause. “Listen, we need to talk.”

  “Go ahead, girl. Talk dirty all you want.”

  “No. I’m being serious. I stopped by your place earlier.”

  “I know. Hynes told me.”

  “Can we meet? I need to talk to you.”

  I sighed, noticing the serious edge to her voice. I’d heard that edge before, but it’d been a long time. It was the way my mom sounded when she had bad news, which was basically all she ever had for me back then.

  “Fine,” I said. “I get done tutoring at eight thirty. Meet me by the statue of Arnold Chains around eight forty-five. Okay?”

  “Who?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Arnold Chains. Fat football guy. It’s a big statue right outside the stadium.”

  “Oh, right,” she said. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  “See you soon.” I hung the phone up and slipped it into my pocket.

  My life wasn’t simple. I had the enormous expectations of a first-rate football school hanging on my shoulders, plus the hype of the entire country. I had to keep my grades up and work hard to exceed everyone’s expectations if I really wanted to make a career of this.

  Meeting pretty girls outside the stadium at night was definitely not part of the plan right now. I knew I should just go home and go to sleep since I had to do this all over again the next day.

  But there was something in her voice. Besides, I’d take any excuse to see that girl again.

  Avery’s lips pressed against mine came back to me as I hustled off across campus, heading toward my tutoring session.

  2

  Avery

  One Day Earlier

  Nobody wanted to start a new semester off by peeing on a stick.

  I nervously held the plastic applicator down underneath my stream, making a face. I slowly peed, letting it trickle down over the stick.

  “Well?” Harper called from outside the door.

  “Hold on,” I said. “Don’t make me nervous.”

  “You’re not already nervous?”

  “You know what I mean. Don’t talk to me or else I can’t go.”

  “Are you kidding me, Avery?”

  “I’m not joking! Hold on!”

  I quickly finished up and then put the pregnancy test down on the bathroom sink. I flushed and then opened the door. Harper came inside and frowned at the test.

  “That’s it?” she asked. “You got it?”

  “I didn’t miss, if that’s what you mean.”

  She just shook her head. “It’s such a small thing for such an important moment.”

  “Tell me about it,” I mumbled.

  I didn’t know how this was happening.

  Gibson was the last guy I’d been with, a bit over a month ago. We were into the very beginning of the first semester, and I had missed my period. I was never late, never ever late. I knew something was wrong the day I realized I was late, but I couldn’t be pregnant. I had watched Gibson put the condom on.

  But condoms could break. It didn’t happen often, but it was possible. I never thought it could happen to me, but I also never thoug
ht I’d end up in a football star’s truck feeling his thick cock between my legs.

  Harper and I stood there, staring at the pregnancy test. Neither of us said anything as the seconds slowly ticked by. I had the thing facedown, because I couldn’t bear watching it slowly show me what my future was going to be.

  Was I ready to be a mother? I didn’t think so. Not at all. But if I was pregnant, I had no other choice. I didn’t want to be a mother, wasn’t even close to being ready, but I was going to be anyway.

  “Well?” Harper asked.

  “Give it another minute.”

  “Check it, Avery. Come on, the box said it only needed thirty seconds.”

  “Let’s just wait.”

  She sighed. “Listen. Whatever it says, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

  I bit my lip and suddenly wanted to cry. But no, I wasn’t going to start sobbing like a child. If I had a baby growing inside me, I was going to have to grow up pretty fast, or else.

  I reached out, heart racing, and picked up the pregnancy test. Harper looked over my shoulder.

  “Oh fuck,” she said.

  I was pregnant.

  “Hold on,” Harper said. “Let me make sure.” She grabbed the box and compared the little symbol on the test with the symbol on the box.

  “Fuck,” she said again, and put the box back down. “Fuck.”

  I cringed. “Stop saying that,” I said.

  “Okay. Sorry. It’s just, holy shit, Avery. You’re pregnant.”

  “Fuck,” I said, and closed the toilet lid before sitting down on it. “I’m pregnant.”

  Harper crouched down next to me and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Maybe it’s wrong.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “Don’t say that. These things are basically always right. I knew something was wrong the second I missed my period. And my freaking boobs are tender.”

  Harper couldn’t help but giggle. “I hate that,” she said.

  “Yeah, me too. Harper, what the hell am I going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, “but I promise we’ll figure it out.”

  We sat there in silence together, Harper hugging me tightly. As far as I knew, my entire life was about to change in a way I couldn’t possibly understand.

  Sitting on the toilet in my tiny apartment with my best friend, I couldn’t even begin to picture what my future would look like a year from now. I’d have a baby, a child that would depend on me for everything.

  And yet I was still a baby myself. I was barely twenty-one and hadn’t even graduated from college yet. I didn’t know how to take care of myself, let along how to take care of an infant.

  “What about Gibson?” Harper asked finally.

  “Fuck,” I groaned again. “I was trying not to think about that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but you need to tell him.”

  “I know. But can it wait?”

  “Yeah, sure,” she said. “You can tell him tomorrow.”

  “I’d suggest we drown my sorrows in wine, but I guess I can’t do that anymore,” I said.

  “Good thing we’ve been really boring since that party,” Harper said.

  “Yeah, seriously.” I sighed and shook my head. “How am I going to do this, Harps?”

  “We’ll figure it out. Come on. Let’s get off this toilet and sit on the couch.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Fine.”

  I let Harper lead me over to the couch. She wrapped me in a blanket and put on some bad reality TV, the exact sort of thing I needed to keep my mind off the baby growing inside me.

  Gibson Evans’s baby. I had no clue how this could happen or what we were going to do. Gibson was a huge star, a famous football player. He was supposed to have a huge future ahead of him. There was no way he was going to take responsibility for some random one-night stand’s baby.

  I had no clue how to tell him any of this anyway. I didn’t know him, didn’t even have his number. After that night, I left him with my cell number, but he never bothered calling me. I wasn’t really surprised or even all that upset, considering his reputation as a player and a bad boy. But still, it would have been nice for him to at least acknowledge me.

  Instead, he practically disappeared. Or maybe he just returned to how things used to be back before we even knew each other. One night was all we were supposed to have, but now things were so different.

  I was pregnant. As I sat there quietly watching TV, cuddling with Harper, I could barely get over that fact. I’d gotten pregnant by a guy I barely knew, some asshole football star. I had no interest in having this guy’s baby, let alone being in his life.

  There was nothing I could do, though. I had to tell Gibson, and tell him right away. I couldn’t keep this from him, not something so serious.

  It felt like my life was over. Really, my life was just beginning.

  I walked down along the sidewalk next to the perfectly manicured grass. Ahead of me, the library cut up into the air, a large mural of Jesus raising his arms up into the air painted five stories high.

  The buildings were all in the same style, all brick and archways. Mater Dei was an elite school, one of the best institutions in the country. I was lucky to go here, incredibly lucky. I had worked hard in high school and gotten great grades, but my parents weren’t wealthy. They were incredibly religious people, deeply devoted Catholics, and I’d been brought up in the church my whole life. I was a lot less religious than they were, but I couldn’t help but have a little of that inside me.

  It was their dream for me to go to MD, but they couldn’t afford to send me. Fortunately, I was lucky enough to get generous scholarships from the school, and so I barely squeaked in with minimal debt.

  I breathed in the cool Indiana air as I headed toward the stadium. It rose up out of the concrete, an enormous stone beetle resting in the shadow of the library. I headed directly toward it, my heart beating fast.

  It was eight forty-five, exactly when he told me to show up. I didn’t know how this was going to go or what I was going to say to him, but I knew I couldn’t turn around or get out of it. I had to take a deep breath, calm myself, and get it over with.

  Gibson had to know. He had to know that he was the father of my child.

  I quickly crossed the street, looking both ways. Ever since I had found out that I was pregnant, it felt like every single decision I made had such serious consequences, which made sense, considering I was choosing for more than one person now.

  I took a deep breath and shook my head. I had to get my mind straight and concentrate. I walked toward the stadium and headed toward the left, away from the more brightly lit side and toward the statue.

  As I rounded the corner, I saw him standing up ahead. He was hard to miss, considering how tall he was. I slowed as I approached, taken aback all over again by how handsome he was. When he spotted me, he grinned and walked toward me.

  Gibson Evans, the father of my child. He was tall, broad, muscular, covered in tattoos, and had a grin that set my panties on fire. I stopped as he approached, smirking at me like he was just about to tell the best joke I’d ever heard.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I expected you to come back for more, but maybe not this soon,” he said.

  “That’s not what I’m here about.”

  He smirked at me and stood close. “We both know you want me to take you into the shadows and slide my cock deep inside that nice little pussy of yours.”

  “Gibson,” I said, taking a sharp breath.

  “Exactly,” he said. “I’ll smack that nice, tight little ass and make you say my fucking name.”

  I shook my head. “Stop. We need to talk.”

  He shrugged and crossed his arms. “Okay then. Let’s talk.”

  “Something happened,” I said. I had no clue how to actually do this other than to come out and say it. “You need to know about it. Neither of us planned on
this, but it happened.”

  He sighed and held up his hands. “Look, Avery, if you’re about to ask me for money, you’re wasting your breath.”

  That took the breath from my lungs. I just gaped at him, shocked.

  “What?” he went on. “I get a lot of people coming up to me and asking me for things. I’m just being straight with you, girl. I’m always down to make you say my name, but I just don’t have any money to give you.”

  “I don’t want your money,” I managed to say, getting angry. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. I don’t know what kind of person you are at all. But you’d be surprised by how many people come up to me asking for things.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted out, and I instantly regretted it. I’d meant to say it a little more tactfully, but he had pissed me off already.

  His cocky smiled disappeared at least.

  “What?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I was trying to tell you a little nicer than that, but that’s why I’m here. I’m pregnant.”

  “You sure?”

  I laughed a little bit. “Yeah, I’m sure. I took a test last night, and two more this morning. I’m definitely pregnant.”

  He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at me with those intense, beautifully blue eyes of his. “And it’s mine,” he said simply.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It’s very definitely yours.”

  “Well,” he said, “shit.”

  That was the second time I ever spoke to Gibson Evans, the father of my child. The second time we spoke and I had to tell him that I was pregnant with his kid.

  So far, things were not off to the best start.

  3

  Gibson

  I stared down at Avery, not sure what the hell to say.

  So far, every time I met someone, they inevitably came to me with their hands out, expecting something. That was what happened when you got to my level, or at least that was what people told me. Coach was constantly telling me to just say no to everything.