Long: A Secret Baby Sports Romance

by B. B. Hamel

“So you came to me,” he said, nodding. “I hear you, kid. I really do. But twenty grand, well, that’s pretty steep.”

  “I’ll take less,” I said. “I’m going to make it to the NFL. Maybe not a starter, but I’ll be able to pay you back.”

  “The NFL isn’t for a while,” he mused. “A lot can happen before then.”

  “True. But believe me, nothing is going to get in my way.”

  “I believe you, kid,” he said, smiling. “But listen. I’ll be up front with you. We’re just not interested in giving you a loan.”

  I stared at him for a second, anger stirring in my chest. “Then why the fuck did you have me come all the way out here?” I said.

  “Hold on now, Gibson,” he said, holding up his hands. “I can’t do a loan, but I think we can come to some other agreement.”

  I paused. “Like what?”

  “Gibson, how badly do you need to go into halftime with the lead next weekend?”

  I stared at him for a second, slowly understanding what he was getting at.

  “It’s always good to have momentum at half,” I said, hedging.

  “Sure, sure. But what if you didn’t? Could you make that happen?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “How much is that worth to you?”

  “Five grand,” he said. “No negotiating. I’m just being up front with you, kid.”

  “Five grand,” I said, leaning back in the chair. “For five grand, you want me to go into halftime losing to Mountain.”

  “That’s right,” he said, nodding. “I suspect we’ll win some good money on that bet.”

  “Then I can win it?”

  He grinned at me. “You better. We want you to get into the NFL, kid.”

  I crossed my arms, my jaw tight.

  I’d never done something like this in my life. It felt dishonest, like cheating or some shit. But in the end, football was just a fucking game, and this was my kid’s life I was doing this for. My kid’s life and Avery, too.

  “I think I can do that,” I said slowly.

  “Excellent,” Vin said, grinning hugely. “Very good, kid. I think we can be good business partners.”

  I knew I shouldn’t agree to this. I knew I should get up and leave and find some other way to get money. Maybe if I told Coach, he could help me, or maybe I could sell some of my stuff on the black market.

  But this wasn’t impossible, and five grand was a good amount of money. I could keep the game close and then just dominate them in the second half. Coach would easily chalk it all up to early season jitters. If I looked good in the second half, that was all anybody would remember.

  I had morals and integrity. I had honesty and honor. But my integrity, my morals, my honor, they all said that taking care of my unborn child and my child’s mother was way more important than a sport.

  I would do anything for Avery and my kid, no matter what.

  10

  Avery

  Monday morning and my alarm clock was blaring. I rolled over, groaning, and shut it off.

  I stared up at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling around the same problems over and over. I’d been trying to figure out how I was going to do this study with Gibson, or if it was even a good idea.

  I didn’t know how close I wanted to get to him. He was practically famous, and he had this whole different life that I couldn’t really understand. This baby came out of nowhere for both of us, and it didn’t seem like either of us could really handle this or figure it out.

  But I just kept coming to the same conclusion, no matter how many excuses I came up with. Gibson was going to be in my life no matter what I did, and it just made sense to at least try to get to know him. Plus, there was the added bonus was feeling completely out of myself every time I was around him.

  I sighed and grabbed my phone. I’d been putting this off since that party, but I knew I shouldn’t wait any longer. I typed up a quick text and sent it to him.

  “Hey, can we meet sometime today? I want to talk about that project.”

  I put my phone down, not expecting him to answer so early. But a second later, my cell buzzed.

  “Sure thing. I was wondering when you’d want to see me again.”

  “Ha ha,” I typed back. “Not like that. We just need to talk about the study.”

  “I have a few minutes between practice and tutoring. Meet at the same spot, around five?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you then.”

  I tossed my phone aside and stretched. I had some idea about how this project would work, but I needed to find out what Gibson’s schedule was like. The man was clearly busy as hell, and I could already tell that some of my more in-depth ideas weren’t going to work.

  Plus, I couldn’t ask too much of him. He already had so much pressure on him; I couldn’t add one more obligation to his life. I needed to make it as simple as possible and be as flexible as possible. He was doing me a favor after all.

  As I got up and began to get dressed, I was suddenly nervous. I didn’t really understand it, though. I’d seen Gibson a bunch of times. Heck, I was pregnant with his baby. But for some reason the thought of seeing him about this project made my stomach do flips.

  Maybe it was the idea of being close to his body. I kept imagining touching his hard muscles as he smirked at me. He’d make some dirty comment that would set my whole core on fire, but I’d do my best to pretend like I didn’t care about it. He’d see right through me, though.

  As I went into the bathroom to get ready, I couldn’t shake the fantasy I had in my head. In my mind, we’d be alone in a lab. He’d be sweating, breathing deeply, and I’d be taking measurements. I’d accidentally get too close to him, brushing my fingers against his hard bicep. He’d smirk at me and know exactly what I was thinking.

  I shook my head, looking into the mirror. I needed to stop fantasizing about him. Gibson was in my head, but if we were going to do this project, I needed to try to be serious about it. I couldn’t be too compromised, though having the subject’s baby was probably about as compromised as it got.

  I washed up and went back into my bedroom. The smell of coffee came drifting in from the kitchen. At least Harper was up and there was coffee.

  Even if I couldn’t stop obsessing about Gibson, at least I was going to get my single measly small cup of coffee.

  The day flew by, which was unusual. Mondays usually dragged on forever, as the weekend still lingered in my mind. Instead, today just drifted past as if I were a stone in a river, everything just flowing on by.

  Eventually I found myself standing in front of the statue again, waiting for Gibson to show up. I was a few minutes early, and of course I was nervous, but I was doing my best to keep myself from freaking out too much. I had a pretty good idea of what the project was going to look like, so I could keep it professional.

  I spotted Gibson walking toward me a few minutes later. He grinned when he spotted me and I waved.

  “Avery,” he said. “You’re looking nice as usual.”

  I blushed and looked down at myself. “Uh, thanks.”

  “How about we skip this meeting and get down to the good stuff?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on,” he said softly. “You don’t really want to do some project with me. You want me to take you back into the shadows and make your body feel things.”

  “Gibson,” I said seriously, although he was totally right, “I really do need this project.”

  He laughed. “I know. I’m just teasing.” He leaned up against the statue’s base and crossed his arms. “So what’s up?”

  “Okay, well, here’s the thing. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, since I know the season is coming up this weekend.”

  “You can’t take up too much time,” he said.

  “I can, but I won’t. So I’m thinking that I could take your vital measurements before and after practices, and maybe get some more intensive work done once or twice this semester.”

  “You can wor
k me as intensely as you want,” he said, smiling.

  “Good,” I answered. “Does that work for you? I’d have to be at your place early, and I’d meet you after practice. Taking vitals would be quick.”

  “Sure,” he said. “That’s fine with me. Can you get to my place by seven every morning?”

  “I guess so,” I said, and I already felt exhausted.

  He grinned. “We don’t have to do it this way. I just leave at seven thirty every morning for class, and I don’t have another break until right now.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there. Then we can meet here every day around now?”

  “Perfect,” he said. “Let’s start on Wednesday. Want to get some work in right now, too?”

  “No, thanks. I’m pretty sure of what you’re going to say.”

  He smirked at me, shaking his head. “You keep pretending you don’t want me, but we both know the truth.”

  “I’m not so sure about that, Gibson.”

  He stepped close to me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. “I’m sure. I see the way you look at me, like you can barely contain yourself. I’m willing to bet my career that if I put my hands down those tight jeans, I’d find a dripping wet pussy.”

  “Not even close,” I said, although I was lying. He was right; he drove me wild every time I saw him.

  “Lie all you want,” he said, “but I’m not going to pretend like my cock isn’t fucking hard as hell thinking about your ass in the air, begging to be fucked.”

  I shook my head, taking a deep breath. He came closer to me, and our bodies were inches apart, practically pressed together in the shadow of the large statue. I wanted him to kiss me so badly, wanted him to press my back against the concrete as his fingers found my soaking pussy.

  I wanted to feel him again. I wanted it so fucking badly.

  But just as I felt like he was about to pull me against him, a group of guys came walking around the corner.

  Hearing their voices snapped me out of it. I turned away from him, embarrassed, and took a couple steps away.

  “I’ll see you bright and early Wednesday,” I said to him.

  “Yeah. All right, Avery.”

  I quickly walked away.

  I had been inches away from throwing myself at him. If those kids hadn’t shown up, I didn’t know what I would have done. I could barely control myself when I was around Gibson, as much as I wanted to. There was just something about his cocky grin, the way he stared at me, the way he spoke to me, like he was constantly about to take whatever he wanted, and what he wanted was my body.

  I kept thinking about that night in his truck, the way his cock filled me to the brim, his warm lips against my neck. I’d never felt that incredible before. He had fucked me rough and hard, like he couldn’t get enough of it. That was probably why the condom broke, after all. Gibson couldn’t be contained.

  But I was going to need to contain him somehow. I needed to set boundaries if we were going to make this work. It was complicated enough being pregnant with his baby. I didn’t need another level added to our already fraught relationship.

  I sighed and headed back toward my apartment. I had lots of planning and charts to make.

  11

  Gibson

  The ball left my hand, another tight spiral. I threw over and over, hitting my targets one after the other, but my head wasn’t really into it.

  Coach was going easy on me, letting me get in a little rest day. I couldn’t complain about that. But even if he decided to run me into the dirt, I still wouldn’t be fully present for this practice.

  Too much was going on. I kept thinking about what the mafia wanted from me and how much they were willing to pay for it. They wanted me to purposefully play badly, to go into halftime behind. I wasn’t sure I could even pull that off, because I only had control over our offense. If our defense played well, we might still be up at halftime.

  I didn’t know what they’d do to me if I couldn’t come through. I’d heard some pretty fucked-up shit about the mafia when I was a kid, mostly from my dad. They cut people’s hands off who couldn’t pay back their debts, or at least that was the sort of shit my dad used to say.

  I couldn’t be sure how much of that was bullshit, but the mafia was known for some pretty violent and brutal tactics. They had to do that shit, otherwise people would try to take advantage of them.

  I wasn’t fucking around. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it for real. I couldn’t half-ass it, couldn’t go halfway. I was going to do what I could, make sure the offense couldn’t get into a rhythm, and let shit play out.

  “Gibson.” I turned my head and saw Reggie staring at me. “The fuck you doing, man?”

  I cocked my head. “What?”

  “You just threw three miscues in a row. You fucking around or what?”

  I shrugged. “I’m good.”

  “Whatever, man.” Reggie crossed his arms. “Quit playing around and throw the ball.”

  Reggie was the best receiver on the team, but he thought he was the best thing in the fucking world. He was an asshole, no doubt about it, and I could already hear the shit he was going to say on Saturday. Reggie wasn’t going to touch the ball that half if I had anything to do with it.

  Mostly because when he caught the ball, he tended to make shit happen. As much of an asshole as he was, Reggie was a good player.

  I got my head in practice for the rest of the session. I couldn’t make anyone suspicious that something was going on. Hynes was the only person who knew about Avery, but I doubted one bad half was going to make him start telling everyone.

  After practice was over and the team showered off, I walked back to the apartment with Hynes.

  “You see that girl lately?” he asked.

  “Which one?”

  “The one with your fuckin’ baby, man.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve been seeing her.”

  “How’s that going?”

  “Fine.”

  “You tell anyone about it?”

  “Just you.”

  “Probably for the best.” He looked around. “A lot of fucking haters out there in the world. You having some illegitimate baby won’t play well.”

  “What do you think Coach would do?”

  “Don’t know,” Hynes said, musing. “He might protect you. He might throw you under the bus. He’d be pissed either way.”

  “Yeah.” Not pissing Coach off was one of my goals in life. The man did not give a shit about anything when he was angry, and I could already imagine the kind of punishing work he’d put me through if he found out about Avery.

  But how was I going to keep it a secret? I didn’t even know if that was right, trying to keep her a secret. It wasn’t like I was ashamed of her. Avery was gorgeous, smart, and funny. If I was going to impregnate someone, at least it was someone like Avery. There was just so much shit surrounding me and my future, and a knocked-up girl who was not my girlfriend could look pretty damn bad.

  And in sports, as with most things, image was important. The media liked to talk about how I was from the wrong side of the tracks, a rough family, but I’d gotten out of that and grown up. I was supposed to be some reformed bad boy.

  Truth was, I hadn’t reformed shit. I just played football and did whatever the fuck I wanted. I could just imagine the field day they would have with this story, though.

  “What are you doing about her?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “She’s having the kid and I’m going to support her.”

  “Good for you, man.”

  “She’s even doing this project for her biology class on me.”

  He stopped me. “Hold up. She’s doing a project for biology on you?”

  “Yeah, man. She’s doing a study on athletes.”

  He cracked up, practically doubling over with laughter. I couldn’t help but grin at him.

  Finally, he got control of himself. “Shit, man,” he said. “That’s just some funny-ass shit. You’re
amazing at getting yourself into this stuff.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, man, she’s going to be all close to you and shit, taking your vitals, studying you.”

  “Yeah, I can see how that might look bad.”

  “Looks pretty good for you as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Well listen, she’s going to be stopping by the apartment in the mornings to take my measurements and shit.”

  “All right, man. Whatever you want.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Just don’t get all fucked up on this girl. We need your head in the game.”

  “I’m not. Have I ever been the type to get all twisted over some girl?”

  “Nah, man,” he said, “but you don’t normally see them for very long.”

  “Relax,” I said as we started walking again. “It’ll be fine. I got this handled.”

  He looked at me, skeptical. “I’m not so sure about that, but I trust you.”

  I had to admit, he probably wasn’t wrong, but I had no other choice. If only Hynes understood the situation I was in and could even begin to fathom all the pressure I was under.

  I’d work it out, one way or another.

  12

  Avery

  I was up at the crack of dawn. I hated getting right up, but I couldn’t spend time lying around in bed. I had a job to do, and I couldn’t be late.

  I went into the bathroom and got ready. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gotten dressed seriously before five in the morning, but I wasn’t going over to Gibson’s looking like a total slob, even though I was a total slob, especially this early.

  Still, I managed to get myself together. I grabbed a blood pressure monitor I had borrowed from the lab, a stethoscope, and a few other instruments before heading out the door.

  Fortunately, Gibson lived a short bike ride away. I got to his house and locked my bike up right at seven. I was inside his building and knocking on his door a couple of minutes later.

  He answered after the second knock. “Good morning, nurse,” he said.