"She'll be fine," I assured Salvatore. "She's just being overly dramatic."
"When Gia would fall, she wouldn't cry unless there was blood pouring from the wound," he shrugged.
"I remember when she broke her collarbone in grade four after falling off the equipment at recess one day. I didn't even know she'd hurt herself."
"No one did," he agreed, huffing out a laugh. "It took three days before she even mentioned it, and only then because she was annoyed that she couldn't lift her arms high enough to shoot a basketball. When we finally took her to the doctor, I thought he was going to call the police on us for neglecting it for so long. He put her in a sling and told her not to use it for a few weeks."
"I think she wore that for maybe a week before she started taking it off whenever she got to school."
Salvatore rolled his eyes. "That was my Gia, alright. Tough right until the end."
Until she couldn't be tough anymore.
Gia never backed down from a fight, but cancer wasn't something you could just sock in the nose like she'd done to Tommy Gilfoil. He'd been picking on me during the first week of Kindergarten, and one day Gia happened to be standing by when he pushed me out of the sandbox, causing me to trip on the edge and land hard on my behind. He laughed at first, until Gia walked over and punched him.
We became best friends from that day forward, and she never stopped looking out for me. She was always the strong one, of the two of us.
But now she's gone so I have to be strong. For Izzy, if nothing else.
"Did I hear right? You're coming for dinner on Thursday?"
I nodded. "I'm taking Izzy for the weekend."
"We're lucky to have you still, Deedee. We can raise Izzy ourselves, but it wouldn't be fair to her..."
"I know," I said, cutting him off before he could continue. I knew how guilty both of them felt about the whole situation. As if mourning the loss of their only child wasn't hard enough.
Both of Gia's parents would willingly raise Isabella as their own, but they also both knew the realities. They were already in their sixties, and not in the best of health. Izzy was already a strong willed little girl. What were they going to do when she was a teenager and they were ten to fifteen years older themselves?
Izzy knew me. I'd been there her whole life, almost as much a part of it as they had. I loved her. I was young. It made sense for me to adopt her.
Besides, I owed Gia. She looked after me practically my entire life, but when she really needed someone to protect her, I couldn't repay the favor. I couldn't save her from cancer.
The least I could do was take care of her daughter.
I just had to clear this one last hurdle.
I just had to get her actual father to agree to give her up forever.
5
Tanner
"So you really don't remember this girl? You can tell me the truth, man, you know I won't say nothin’."
Cooper Westin was my closest friend on the team, which by default made him my closest friend in general. Soon after signing with the Stars, it seemed like every friend I had growing up started to contact me.
And all of them wanted something.
It got so bad that I had to just cut off contact with everyone from my old life. I didn't know who I could trust anymore.
Except my family.
Just because I hardly ever saw my younger brothers any more didn’t mean I’d ever turn my back on them. Mere physical distance would never break the bond we’d formed growing up the way we did. But out here in LA, Cooper was my closest confidant. He may be a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, but I just figured that was due to too many hits in the head. The Stars linebacker took a hell of a beating on the field, but despite that he always seemed happy once his helmet came off. For the most part, he was just a decent guy who liked to have a good time and always meant well.
"Coop, this was like, two or three years ago. I met her one time after a game. And by met her, I mean we fucked and that's it. Who knows if I even knew her name back then." A fuzzy image of who I thought might be Gia flashed in my head but I brushed it away as quickly as every other time it had popped up since I recognized the resemblance in Izzy. It still didn't mean anything for sure.
Cooper whistled and shook his head. "Why don't linebackers get as much pussy..." Cooper was a big guy, even bigger than me. And while he didn't have a cool nickname or get as much press, he did fine with the ladies. Especially when he wore his jersey so that he was recognized. Like tonight.
"You do fine," I said, struggling to keep the bitterness out of my voice. My mood wasn't his fault. "Besides, do you really want some random woman showing up, out of the blue, at your door and calling you daddy?"
His face broke into a wide grin. "Actually, when you put it that way..."
"Shut up, you know what I mean so I'll answer for you. No. No, you wouldn't. So quit your bitchin'."
The whole point of coming out tonight was to get my mind off this morning's bombshell, not spend the night rehashing it.
"Not bitchin', Flash. Hell, I'm more in awe that you get so much tail you can't even keep that shit straight."
"Yeah, lucky me." I lifted my half-filled glass to my lips and finished the remaining beer in a single swallow. Coop refilled it from the pitcher immediately. The jug was almost empty and this was already our second one. He raised his arm and waggled it in the air until he got a nod from a passing server. "Anyway, isn't that why we're here tonight? To get us both laid?"
"That was your pitch, anyway."
With his jersey on and me being, well, me, it should be like shooting fish in a barrel. The Endzone was well known for being a bar that Stars liked to spend their off hours at, mainly because the owner made sure we always drank for free. It was just good business for him, since what we drank was more than offset by how packed this place was with fans hoping to rub elbows with their favorite players.
And despite most of those fans being overweight armchair quarterbacks, there was usually also a healthy sprinkling of hot chicks anxious to sleep with whatever minor celebrity or athlete they could shake their cleavage at.
Even for a Monday night, the place was jammed.
We'd only been there half an hour and I'd already signed a dozen autographs and posed for almost as many selfies. Even Coop was approached a few times, although his game jersey probably helped.
I didn’t come here often, but tonight felt like it might be my last chance for a while. I had no idea how much of this morning's conversation those cheerleaders overheard, but if it was anything substantial I couldn't count on them keeping their mouths shut. I wouldn't put it past either of them to happily sell whatever piece of the story they'd caught to whatever sleazy newspaper or website offered the most money.
And if that happened, I'd be forced to lay low.
Nothing shut down easy pussy as fast as a "Deadbeat dad" headline. It didn't matter if the story was true or not. As soon as it was out there, people would happily believe it. A juicy lie always stuck around far longer than a boring truth. Even if the test came back negative in a week, those same papers probably wouldn't even run that story. Or if they did, it would be buried somewhere on page twenty.
That meant that I’d set a goal of leaving The Endzone with the hottest piece of ass that set foot through the door, and prove to her that the name Flash had nothing to do with my endurance. And hell, if I wore her out before I was done, I wasn't above coming back for last call and looking for a fresh partner.
If I was going to wake up to cock-blocking headlines in the morning, at least I could enjoy one last night of debauchery. Even if those cheerleaders didn't happen to hear anything after all, or if their tongues weren't as loose as I'd suspected, my plan was still a solid one.
"Ah shit," Cooper muttered. He was staring behind me, toward the door to the bar. There was a lot of commotion coming from that direction.
"Bullet!"
I heard someone yell his name before I even had to turn around.
Just my fucking luck. Could this day get any worse?
I tipped back the fresh beer that Coop had poured and drained it, just as the server brought us a fresh jug. My head was already starting to swim.
"Don't start anything," Coop warned.
I glared at him.
"Seriously, Flash."
"Why do you think I would be the one to start something?"
Cooper said nothing, he just simply raised his eyebrows.
The noise of the crowd grew louder as they moved closer to us, likely keeping pace with the Stars quarterback as he made his way deeper into the bar.
Darryl "Bullet" Jones.
The man could do no wrong in the eyes of the fans. After all, he was the one that threw the ball. That made him the star of the game, didn't it?
No one seemed to fault him for being the sole reason we were out in the first round of the playoffs. They willfully ignored his ridiculous toss to Thompson, who was completely covered, instead of me, who was completely open.
I could have won us the game. I could have taken us all the way.
But everyone loves the QB.
Even Gia.
I barely remembered the girl, but even the supposed mother of my child had been looking for Bullet over me.
Fuck that.
The crowd was close enough that I could hear some of their questions.
"What you been up to, Bullet?"
"Yo, DJ, you shoulda gone all the way, man! You need a ring on that finger. It's crazy you don't have one yet."
"Yeah, fuck Thompson for not completing that play. He lost you the game."
Coop was right, I shouldn't have started anything. But those last couple of comments pissed me off, and I'd heard ones like it enough times to know that Bullet wasn't about to correct them. He wasn't going to take ownership of his mistakes. That left it to me to set the record straight.
I wasn't great friends with Thompson, but that didn't mean I thought he should take the blame for a poorly executed play. He didn't miss the ball, it got swatted down because he wasn’t open.
The pass should have come my way, and the only reason it didn't was because Bullet was fucking jealous. He knew if I made the catch and won the game, I would have gotten the glory, not him.
From the corner of my eye I could see Coop shaking his head violently.
He knew what I was going to do before I opened my mouth or stood up.
But I was too far gone to stop, even if I wanted to.
And after the shitty day I'd had, stopping wasn't even in my playbook.
6
Delaney
"So tell me everything about yesterday! Is Flash as hot in person as he is on TV?"
I rolled my eyes. "I didn't notice. You are aware I wasn't exactly there for a booty call, right?"
Roxanne just laughed, returning my eye roll but in a much more exaggerated way as her long blond hair swung away from her face. It had a streak of pink in it today. "Please. Maybe you can start writing fiction if you get tired of painting. Did he flirt with you? All the stories about him always mention how much of a flirt he is."
I considered throwing a pillow at her, but the only one available was on my lap and being used to support my sketch pad. So instead I just stuck out my tongue.
"I was also there with Izzy and a CPS worker," I reminded her.
"Excuses, excuses."
"Not to mention when we got there it looked like we’d interrupted some sort of orgy."
"Wait, what? Spill!"
"He's a pig," I shrugged. I told her about how he had answered the door in just pants, and the naked girls that made a hasty exit as soon as they saw us.
"So I guess the rumors about him aren't just rumors," she mused, a big smile on her face.
"Yeah, he really is just a typical dirty jock."
"Sounds more like a steaming stud, to me. You’re just used to dating nerds."
"Whatever." I didn’t normally think of the men in my past as nerds, but compared to Tanner Garrick, I couldn’t argue the point.
Roxie and I had only met a couple of years ago, at the art gallery she helped manage. We’d become friends right away, but gotten even closer since Gia passed away.
I probably couldn't have gotten through those first couple months without her support.
Still, when it came to men she was incorrigible and insatiable. She swore she would never marry because there were just too many men in the world to settle on just one.
"Okay, but seriously Del, how did it go?"
My hand paused against the rough paper, the pencil I held stood tall as I considered the question. I always sketched when I needed to relax, barely paying attention to what I drew as my mind drifted. But now that I had to focus, it was like I couldn't do both at the same time.
I let out a little sigh. "About as well as could be expected, I guess."
"Which means what? Did he remember Gia?"
"No. The asshole tried to deny the whole thing. He acted like we were there to try and scam him or something."
"Well, can you blame him?"
I looked up at her in surprise, but she raised her hands as if to fend off the accusations of betrayal she knew I was about to throw at her.
"I just mean that he's a celebrity, I'm sure he's used to people claiming all sorts of stuff that isn't true, looking for a quick payday. LA is full of unscrupulous people looking to make a quick buck."
"Yeah, he said sort of the same thing," I admitted, wondering how someone could live like that; always wondering if the people in his life were lying or trying to take advantage of him, never knowing who to trust. "Still, I know Gia. She wasn't lying. He's the father."
"I don't doubt it," Roxanne nodded, her voice talking on more of a soothing tone now. "I'm just saying, he doesn't know that. Like you said, it was a one-night stand in the stadium after a game. I hate to say it, but that detail likely isn't unique enough for her to stand out in his head..."
"Clearly not," I grimaced, thinking about the two bimbos that had been there at his apartment. "Anyway, he let us take a swab, so we'll have the proof in a week."
The pencil in my hand started to sweep across the paper again.
"Even if I wasn't sure before, which I totally was, I knew it right when I saw him. Izzy looks just like him. Same dark hair, same startling blue eyes—"
"Startling blue eyes, eh? Yeah, you totally didn't notice him."
"Shut up. I'm an artist, I notice things about the world around me. Just because I’ve read that Michelangelo was an arrogant prick, doesn’t make me any less impressed with the beauty of the Sistine Chapel.” Good thing I hadn’t also mentioned Tanner’s well-toned abs or inked upper body.
I looked around again for something to throw at her. One of the overlooked disadvantages of being an artist is a lack of money to buy inessential couch accessories to toss at annoying friends. Finding nothing of use, I settled on simply adding “Just because the man has some redeeming physical qualities doesn’t make me want to drop my panties for him."
"Okay, whatever you say. But now I need to see how startling these blues really are." Roxie walked over to the ancient computer I had sitting on the little end table next to my couch and clicked on the browser icon.
"Geez this thing is slow," she remarked. You could hear my computer practically chugging as it struggled to open the software.
"A new computer designed for looking up pictures of football players to determine the startlingness of their eyes isn't exactly high on my budget priority list."
"Startlingness? Is that even a word?"
"Probably not," I shrugged. "So much for my backup career as a fiction writer."
"Just another reason you need to consider going to Paris..."
Roxie had been trying to convince me to go to Europe for months. Her gallery was co-sponsoring an artist showcase and she wanted to feature some of my pieces. She thought it would be great for my career. But even if I could afford a trip like that, it just wasn't practical
. I couldn't leave Izzy with Gia's parents for that long. Especially not if I was trying to adopt her. So I just ignored the comment, as usual. We'd been over the impracticalities a million times.
"You just concentrate on your cyber ogling over there. Try not to overwork my computer, though. I sometimes use it for actual work."
That computer had been serving me since high school and really was long overdue to be replaced, but was yet another example of an expense I couldn't justify or afford.
And I'm thinking about adopting a kid?
It wasn't the first time I'd had that particular doubt. Whether I could provide the necessities of life for Izzy was my most pressing worry when it came to adopting her. I loved that kid, but love alone didn't buy groceries and clothes and toys...
The only thing that quelled those dizzying fears was the knowledge that Gia's parents had promised to help out. They had no one else to spend their money on now anyway, and everything they had would eventually be left to Izzy. They weren't rich, but they were comfortable enough.
Still, I hated the idea of being dependent on them financially. That money should be for Izzy's future, not for her present. If I wanted to become her mother, I should be able to give her those things without dipping into her college fund.
Of course, all of those necessities were things her actual father could provide.
Easily.
Which brought me right back to wondering whether she wouldn't just be better off living with him. Well, if he'd wanted her, anyway.
One of my biggest fears before going to meet Tanner was that he'd actually be completely unlike his public persona. I imagined a scenario where he was a stand-up guy who immediately took responsibility for Isabella and refused to sign away his parental rights.
What could I do in that scenario but agree? The poor kid already lost her mother. How fair would it be for me to try and deny her a loving father, too?
Of course, I really was still judging him on a very brief encounter. Up until yesterday, he thought he was just a young, successful, very eligible bachelor. Could he really be blamed for partying it up with a couple of women when I showed up, unannounced.
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