Small Town Daddy: A Dark Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  Yeah, sure, he was gorgeous. Sure, he could throw a football harder and more accurately than anyone else in the country, but whatever. When it came down to it, none of that really mattered.

  Truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted from him. I didn’t want money from him, didn’t want to marry him or something stupid like that, and wasn’t even sure if I wanted him in my life. Gibson was the father whether I liked it or not, and regardless of what I wanted from him or how he felt about it, he needed to know. That was all I had been thinking when I’d told him.

  I had hoped it would have gone a little more smoothly, but it was too late for that. At least he had seemed like he wanted to see me again.

  I got out of bed, dressed, and went into the kitchen. Harper had made coffee already and was sitting on the couch, reading a textbook.

  “Morning,” I said to her.

  “Morning. How are you feeling?”

  “Fine,” I said, and poured myself a mug.

  Harper frowned at me. “Can you drink coffee?”

  “Shit,” I said. “I don’t know.”

  “We need to make you a doctor’s appointment.”

  “I don’t have a doctor out here, and I definitely am not using the one at home. My parents know him too well.”

  “You can use the student health service, you know.”

  “Okay, yeah. I can do that.”

  Harper sighed. “I’ll make an appointment for you.” She got out her laptop and typed something real fast. “Also, you can probably drink one cup of coffee per day, but no more.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She shrugged. “Would Google lie?”

  “Yes.” I sipped my coffee. “Yes, it would, but I need this right now. I’ll stop drinking it later.”

  “Fair enough.” Harper went back to typing. “You never told me how it went last night.”

  I sighed and sat down on a chair next to the couch cross-legged. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “He seemed really surprised.”

  “No kidding. Yesterday he was the king of the campus. Now he’s your baby daddy.”

  “Oh god, don’t say that.”

  “What, baby daddy?”

  I cringed. “Yes. Please, stop.”

  “Sorry, but it’s true. He didn’t, like, freak out and run away, did he?”

  “No. He actually seemed to take it well, I guess. Maybe. I couldn’t tell. But he did want to meet up again.”

  “That’s a good sign.” She typed some more and then looked up. “Email to the health people sent. I’ll let you know when your appointment is.”

  “Thanks. I’m nervous to see him again. I just don’t know what I want from him.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you want though, does it? He’s the father to this baby, and if you’re keeping it, he better help out.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I leaned back and sighed. “He’s just such an asshole. I barely know him and he already drives me crazy.”

  “You’re not going to marry the guy, are you?”

  “No. No way. That’s not on the table.”

  “Then don’t stress about it right now. You’ll work it out.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.”

  Harper smiled at me. “And listen. When are you telling your parents?”

  “Never,” I said, and stood up.

  “You have to tell them soon,” she called after me as I retreated into my bedroom, not wanting to have that conversation. “They need to know. They can help!”

  I shut my door and clenched my jaw.

  My parents weren’t going to help. Or maybe they would, but it would come with some incredibly powerful guilt and judgmental conversations.

  The problem was, my parents were incredibly devout Catholics. The idea that I’d have sex before marriage was an abomination to them. I couldn’t imagine telling them that I got pregnant, let alone slept with a guy. They’d try to make me marry him or something, maybe something worse. Right now, I couldn’t handle that sort of stress and pressure.

  No, right now I had to handle this on my own. I had Harper, who was being a huge help already, but basically that was it. I had to get through this myself.

  I had no other choice.

  A few hours later I was in the library, trying to study.

  I was a biology major, and I wanted to go into sports medicine or maybe some kind of research one day. There was good money in sports medicine, but research was my real passion. I was amazed by the human body, and especially by the extreme limits of what humans were physically capable of. I wanted to get involved in more studies that looked specifically at athletes, but those tended to be super competitive at a school like MD.

  As I turned the pages of my book, bored but determined to get some studying done, my phone buzzed. I glanced down at the screen, already deciding I was going to ignore it, but I paused at the message.

  It was from Gibson. “What are you doing right now?”

  I frowned, picked up my phone, and typed a reply. “I’m in the library studying. Pretty boring.”

  He responded right away. “Where in the lib?”

  “Second floor.”

  I waited for his response, but there was nothing. After a minute, I assumed he just lost interested, so I went back to reading.

  Bodies and body parts. I was reading about the musculature system and trying to decide what sort of project I wanted to embark on for my final project when someone loomed up behind me.

  I turned around. Gibson grinned down at me.

  “Hey there, momma,” he said.

  “Don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “No way.”

  “Got a second?”

  “I guess.”

  “Come on.” He turned and started walking away. I had to shut my book and get up fast to keep up with him.

  He wound his way through the stacks. Finally we ended up in the back corner of the building, on the opposite end. He opened up a door and we stepped inside.

  I was surprised by what I saw. It was a study room, but it was way nicer than anything I’d ever seen for regular students. The carpet was clean, there was a new television mounted on the wall, and there were even fresh snacks on the table.

  “Where are we?” I asked him.

  “This is the athletics study lounge,” he said. “Clearly it doesn’t get much use.”

  “Oh my god. Are you kidding me? This is just for athletes?”

  He grinned. “There are certain perks.”

  “Of course there are. You people can throw balls real far, so of course you get the nicest study room on the entire campus.”

  “Don’t be too bitter, momma.”

  “Don’t call me that again. I swear I’ll walk away.”

  “Fine, fine.” He held up his hands, but he was grinning at me, his eyes playful. “I’ll stop.”

  I crossed my arms, annoyed. “What do you need, Gibson?”

  “I just wanted to check in on you.”

  “I’m fine. You don’t have to do that.”

  He shrugged. “I know I don’t.”

  “Really. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t even know what I want from you.”

  “I get that.” He stepped closer to me. Gibson was wearing gym shorts and a tight black T-shirt, a backpack slung over his back. His face was rugged and his eyes were red, like he hadn’t slept well the night before. “I don’t know what I want from you, either.”

  “Oh yeah? You seemed to know last night.”

  He smirked at me. “Okay, maybe I do know. I could lock that door and show you, if you want.”

  “Good idea. Let’s make this even more complicated.”

  “Sometimes complicated can be pretty fun. I think we both know you want me to slide those jeans off that nice ass of yours and lick that pussy until you can’t stay quiet anymore.”

  I bit my lip and looked away. He was so arrogant, so entitled. This room was further proof that Gibson Evans got whatever he wanted just because he was some football star.

/>   But I couldn’t deny the thrill running through my spine and how soaking wet my panties were.

  “It’s a library,” I said. “I think we’ll just stick to being polite and quiet right now.”

  “Your loss. I bet we could break a lot of rules right now if you wanted to.”

  “Look, you checked up on me, okay? I’m going back to studying now.”

  “Wait,” he said, and took my arm. I looked up at him. “Hold on. I wanted to say something else.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised at his touch.

  “I don’t know what I want from you, either, but I do know what I want for that kid inside you.”

  “Okay,” I said, even more surprised at his intensity.

  “I’m going to be a better father than I ever had. So if you need something, you ask me. As for the kid, I’ll be there.”

  “Thanks, Gibson,” I said.

  “Sure.” He let go of my arm. “I just needed you to know that. Whatever happens between us, that’s my kid.”

  “I appreciate that.” I felt so uncomfortable, but I didn’t know why.

  “Before you run off, I still want to see you tonight.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I can do that. When and where?”

  “Meet me at the same spot around seven.”

  “Don’t you have tutoring?”

  He shrugged, that grin slowly coming back. “I’ll skip it for you.”

  “Thanks so much, but don’t get in trouble for me.”

  “I’m already getting in trouble because of you. I might as well have a little fun with it.”

  I sighed. “Bye, Gibson.”

  “See you later then, momma.” He grinned at me.

  I shook my head, frustrated, turned, and left, walking away fast. I felt hot and stuffy, and I needed to get out of that room.

  The way he looked at me made me completely flustered. He talked to me like an arrogant asshole, but every once in a while he seemed to let his guard down, and there was something else behind that cocky grin.

  I didn’t know what I wanted from him, but as I sat back down in my seat and opened up my textbook, I felt a little bit better.

  He wanted to be there for this baby. In the end, that was all that really mattered.

  I just wished he wasn’t such an asshole.

  5

  Gibson

  The ball left my hand like an old friend. It spiraled through the air, tight and controlled. Drinkwater caught it as he broke left in his post route.

  “Good throw,” Coach said. He tossed me another ball. “Again.”

  Jamie Roy was up next. He ran the same route as Drinkwater, breaking left at the same spot, and caught the ball in stride. I could make that throw ninety-nine times out of a hundred, especially with no pressure.

  But during a game, it was different. The pads felt heavier, the crowd was screaming, and big, muscle-bound idiots were barreling toward me, trying to smash me into the dirt. I had to make pinpoint-accurate throws while the whole fucking country watched and judged my every motion.

  Which was why we did it over and over in practice. Coach was going to drill these throws into my skull to the point where I didn’t have to worry about the pressure on game day; my arm would just know what to do.

  “Again,” he said, tossing me another ball.

  We ran that drill for another half hour. Again and again, over and over, I threw the ball to the exact same spot. The whole receiving squad was out there, except for the starter Reggie Crane. He was running his own routes, practicing for his end.

  After another few reps, Coach finally nodded at me. “Okay, Evans. You’re good.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, Coach.”

  “Hit the showers.”

  I walked off toward the sidelines. My arm was heavy and a little tired, but it was a good tired.

  I never felt better than when I beat my own body up. I loved pushing my limits, finding out how far I could go. I got stronger with every practice session, and I wanted to keep getting stronger.

  “Man, nice throws,” John Drinkwater said, coming up next to me.

  “You look good out there, Drinkwater.”

  “I’m working on it.” He grinned at me. “Gunning for that first spot.”

  Drinkwater was the second wide receiver, behind Reggie.

  “Keep it up, man.”

  He grinned and then ran off to join the other receivers for the end of their practice. I got to the bench and grabbed a water bottle, squirting it into my mouth. I swished it around in my mouth and then spat it out. I hated when the coaching staff squirted the water into my mouth during games. I felt like a hamster getting fed or something. I looked around the field, surveying the team.

  Everyone here gave a shit and worked hard. From the least important guy on up, everyone gave it their best. We were one of the elite teams, one of the most popular football teams in history, and we had a lot of pressure on us. Every year we had to perform, and every year we did our best.

  This year was doubly important. Preliminary rankings came out a week ago, and the MD Knights were in the top fifteen in the nation. Some people said that was a low ranking, but I didn’t mind. I wanted them to underestimate me.

  They’d see how good we were on game day next Saturday.

  As I headed back toward the locker room, I felt someone come up beside me. I glanced over and Hynes grinned back at me, his helmet tucked under his arm, his clothes dirty and sweaty.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.

  “Good. Coach had me throwing post reps. Arm feels strong.”

  He laughed. “Not that shit. You saw her today, right?”

  “Oh. Yeah, I saw her.”

  “How was it? You try and put another baby in her?”

  I laughed. “That’s not really how that works, Hynes.”

  “You think I don’t know that shit, man? You can try anyway. Trying’s the fun part.”

  “No, Hynes. We didn’t fuck again.”

  “So, what? You just talked?”

  “Yeah. We talked about the fucking baby inside her.”

  “Your baby,” he reminded me.

  I gave him a look as we walked into the locker room. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “No problem, man. Now strip down and get into the shower with me.” He grinned hugely at me.

  “Cut that shit out, asshole,” I said, laughing. I went over to my locker and he disappeared a few rows down. I stripped off my dirty clothes, tossing them into the laundry bin, before wrapping a towel around my waist. I went over to the showers and climbed into a stall.

  I heard Hynes get into the stall next to me.

  “Seriously, man,” he said. “You figure out what you’re going to do yet?”

  “Not yet, but I’m not running out on her.”

  “Yeah, of course not. You’re not an asshole.”

  “Usually. But the problem is, man, I’m broke.”

  “No shit. I live with you. I know how broke your dumb ass is.”

  “Seriously, man, I need money. I need to be able to help Avery take care of this kid, and I can’t do that without money.”

  “Good point. And you can’t exactly get a part-time job.”

  “No. I can’t sell autographs, I can’t do shit. I’m fucked, man.”

  “Must be hard being so successful.”

  I sighed. “Right now, yeah, it is.”

  “Why don’t you get one of those loans from the mob? I hear they love giving loans out to desperate athletes like you, and I bet you know a guy.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, right, a mob loan. That’s probably not a great idea.”

  “Or you could whore yourself out. I bet there are a lot of ladies who want a piece of Gibson Evans out there.”

  “I’d rather take the mob money.”

  His water stopped and I heard him get out. “Your loss, man. You could get paid to get pussy.”

  “I’m not sure it would be as good as you’re making it sound.”

  He laughed. �
�Probably not.” I heard him leave the bathroom and I was left in there alone.

  I let the water run down my chest, sighing to myself. My mind wandered back to earlier when I’d had Avery alone in the study room. I loved the way she had looked around with that annoyed expression on her face, and the way she had bitten her lip when I’d talked dirty to her.

  I knew she loved hearing it. And truthfully, I wanted to feel her body again. I’d been thinking about it since the second we parted ways, but I had just been too busy with school and football to really pursue it.

  Now that she was back in my life, though, maybe now was the time to try to taste her again.

  I let the sweat run off my body as my cock got hard just thinking about her. I turned the water off finally when I was finished washing, trying to get her out of my head.

  I couldn’t worry about fucking her right now. I had to worry about money.

  In that moment, I had an idea. Well, not exactly my idea, but an idea anyway. It was a stupid idea, a desperate idea, but it was all that I had.

  Maybe a loan wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. I was going to make a lot of money soon enough, if the scouts could all be trusted. Even if I wasn’t picked high in the draft, I could still make a good living as a backup or even as a third string somewhere.

  A damn good living. Definitely good enough to pay back some loans. I was living for free and I had no debt yet.

  Maybe this was the time to really grow up. First step in that was taking out a little loan just to get my life started.

  Fortunately, I knew just who to call.

  6

  Avery

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Gibson as I went to class later that day. The way he had looked at me in that study room, his mouth parted slightly in a knee-shaking grin, the way his body had leaned toward me, it all drove me absolutely wild. I didn’t want to give him what he wanted, though, even if I wanted the same thing.

  He was just so cocky, so privileged. Everything was handed to Gibson Evans, famous college football player. Maybe I was going to have his baby, but he wasn’t going to have me too.

  Class dragged by. I could barely listen to the professor as he went over our final projects. We were supposed to think of an experiment we could perform, something to do with the human body, and write a paper on it by the end of the semester. It was way too early to be thinking about that, though. I had more pressing things.