by B. B. Hamel
I felt so embarrassed. If all these people here knew about the baby, maybe my paranoia had some basis on reality.
After another second, I flushed the toilet and then left the bathroom. I walked quickly past Cathy, not even bothering to look at her. I walked downstairs and found Harper as fast as I could.
“Hey!” Harper said. “I’m kicking ass as always.”
“Listen, I want to leave.”
She nodded. “Okay, sure. Did you tell Gibson?”
“No, and I’m not going to.”
“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”
Harper and I left the room and then headed for the front door. I loved that Harper was willing to drop whatever she was doing just to leave with me.
Just as we walked out the front door and got down the steps, someone called my name.
I looked back. “Hey, Avery,” Gibson said again.
“What?” I asked him.
“I’ll wait for you over there,” Harper said softly. I nodded gratefully as she walked down to the sidewalk.
Gibson came over to me. “Leaving so soon?”
“Yeah. I just have to get going.”
“Okay. Whatever you want to do.”
“Who’s Cathy?” I blurted out.
He looked confused. “Cathy? Blond girl, bow in her hair?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He laughed. “Well, I didn’t think we’d be having this conversation anytime soon, but she’s my ex-girlfriend.”
Shit. Of course she was. Cathy was thin and blond and pretty. Of course Gibson dated girls like her.
“Oh. Okay. Yeah, we definitely don’t have to talk about this.”
“You brought it up, so you should tell me why you asked.”
“She came up to me in the line for the bathroom, said something about not causing drama.”
He shook his head, annoyed. “She can be pretty fucking unpleasant sometimes,” he said.
“Why did she do that?”
“Cathy doesn’t like new people,” he said. “Just ignore her.”
I nodded and looked away, unsure. He seemed like he was telling the truth, but I doubted he’d just come out and admit to telling people about the baby.
This was just so crazy. I could barely trust the father of my own child. We were still strangers, and that wasn’t getting any better.
Which was exactly why I needed to try with him. It didn’t matter what Cathy said or didn’t say. If this man was going to be in my life, I had to at least give it some effort.
“Is your offer still on the table?” I asked him.
“What, you want to go for another ride right now?” He grinned at me. “Let me get my keys.”
“No. I mean the study.”
He shrugged. “Sure. I’m down for that.”
“Okay. I don’t know how it’ll work, but let’s do it.”
His grin got bigger. “Okay then. I’m looking forward to being in your capable hands.”
“Bye, Gibson.”
He smirked as I walked away, joining Harper on the sidewalk.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I nodded, looking back at Gibson. He smirked at me again before turning and walking back into the house. He was so damn handsome, and my heart was beating like crazy in my chest.
I didn’t trust him. I didn’t know him. But I was going to have to try at least.
“It will be, I hope,” I said, and we started heading back home.
9
Gibson
The night after the party, I had a dream about Avery. I could taste her lips, feel her body pressed against mine. She moaned my name in my ear, and just as I was about to come, Cathy appeared out of nowhere with a baseball bat.
I woke up before she could start beating the shit out of me with it.
I rolled onto my back, groaning. I glanced at the clock. It was five forty-five in the morning, fifteen minutes before my alarm would go off. Fifteen minutes before I had to get up and start my damn day.
Unfortunately, my cock was hard as fuck from that dream, and the only thing I wanted to do was go back to sleep and dream about Avery some more.
That girl had no fucking clue. Clearly Cathy had said something to her at the party, which pissed me off to no end. But Avery, she was something fucking else. Cathy was a catty, bratty ex-girlfriend who felt like the world owed her absolutely everything. We dated for two months before I saw through her bullshit, but even after we broke up she was still around all the time.
I already knew Avery wasn’t anything like Cathy. Avery was intelligent, driven, beautiful, and funny. I barely knew her, but I already was positive I wanted to get to know her more.
I resisted rolling back over and going to sleep. No use in it, not anymore. I needed to get up and face the fucking day.
I climbed out of bed. Time to fucking practice. Time to sweat and run and work my ass into the ground.
At least I had the afternoon off.
Coach was clearly still pissed about the tutoring thing, because he did not take it easy all morning. Usually Sundays were pretty light, but this week he had me throwing reps over and over again before he put me in a game room to study tape.
The hours slowly rolled by, and finally it was eleven in the morning and we were done for the day. After showering off, I walked toward campus with Hynes and Drinkwater.
“You fucking hyped for next week?” Drinkwater asked me.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s just Mountain.”
“Still, man,” Hynes said. “First game of the season. I can’t wait for that first fucking run. I’m going to lay some pussy boy out.”
I laughed. “I don’t know, Hynes. You always end up taking it as much as you give it.”
“Hell yeah you do,” Drinkwater said. “I’m the only one here that spends more time on my feet than on my ass.”
“Not sure,” I said. “The offensive line is looking good this year. I don’t think I’m going to have to scramble as much.”
“Whatever, man. I’m just excited to get back out there, hear the roar of the crowd. You know?”
I knew exactly what he meant. There was nothing better than standing in the middle of that field while thousands of fans screamed and cheered for you. There was an energy that I could barely describe flowing through those people, like some sort of weird magic ritual or some shit. All of those people so focused on me; it felt insane and amazing.
We were headed to get some lunch at Dom’s, but my phone started ringing before we got there. “I’ll meet up with you two,” I said, pulling it out of my pocket.
They waved and headed on. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway.
I was glad I did.
“Gibson Evans?” the man asked.
“Yeah. That’s me. Who’s this?”
“My name is Vincenzo Nicastro. You can call me Vin.”
“Okay, Vin,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“Actually, this is about what I can do for you. A man reached out to me and my people, a man you know named Johnny. Do you remember why this man reached out to me?”
I blinked, surprised. I hadn’t expected to hear back from them so quickly.
“I do,” I said.
“Good. Are you interested in meeting with us?”
“I am,” I said.
“Good. We’re interested in meeting with you. Can you come to Chicago today? Possibly by five in the afternoon?”
“Yeah,” I said, checking my watch. “I can be there. No problem.”
“Good. You come and meet us. I’ll text you an address. We’ll talk about your problem.”
“Thank you, Vin,” I said.
“See you later, kid.” He hung up the phone.
I stared out across campus for a second. I thought I’d feel excited, but really I felt more anxious than anything else. These were dangerous men, very dangerous men, and if I took money from them, they’d expect to get paid back and then some.
But I couldn’t go through anyone
legitimate. The media would find out somehow and have a fucking field day with it. No, this was my best choice.
I swallowed my bad feeling and headed toward Dom’s. I had enough time to eat real quick, get changed, and then grab a bus out there.
I got off the bus in Chicago and checked the time on my phone. I had fifteen minutes to walk ten blocks, which was plenty of time. I didn’t rush, just tried to enjoy the trip.
I hadn’t been in Chicago much since coming out to MD, and that was a shame. It was an awesome city, though I wasn’t much of a city guy. Still, I could appreciate the excitement, the people, the food, all that shit.
I was more worried about this meeting, though. I’d never really met with mob guys before, and I had no clue how this was going to work. I made my way down the street, keeping my head down to avoid getting recognized. I didn’t get spotted on the street very often, but I’d been on TV enough that a diehard MD fan could potentially spot me.
Finally I got to the place. It was a little corner deli in the middle of a decent neighborhood. I walked inside, not sure at all what to expect.
It seemed clean and nice. The girl behind the counter smiled at me. “What can I get you, sweetie?” she asked.
“Uh, is Vin here?”
She instantly frowned. “You here to meet with Vin?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I said again.
“All right. Wait.”
She disappeared into the back.
I crossed my arms, annoyed. I was well over six feet tall and covered in muscles, and nothing annoyed me more than when people tried treating me like a fucking kid.
A minute later, a short man with dark hair appeared from the back. He smiled when he saw me.
“There he is!” he said. “The football star. Gibson Evans, I’m Vin.”
“Good to meet you,” I grunted.
“Likewise.” He shook my hand. He was wearing jeans, an Armani Exchange T-shirt, and a gold chain around his neck. He looked like the most cliché Italian mobster in the world.
“Come on, kid. Come on into the back. You want anything from the deli? Sandwich or something? Maybe some cheese?”
“I’m good,” I said.
“Okay. Come on.” I followed him behind the counter. The girl stared at us as we disappeared through the back door. Vin shut it behind us.
We were in a little office in the back of the deli. He sat down behind his desk and motioned for me to sit in one of the two chairs. I choose the one closer to the door and sat.
“Okay, kid,” Vin said. “What can I do for you?”
“I need a loan,” I said.
Vin nodded. “I figured. How much?”
“Twenty thousand,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows. “So you’re talking serious money here.”
I nodded. “I am. I can’t do this legit, or else the media will have a fucking field day. I can’t earn any money, because the university owns my ass right now. I need some help.”
“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 of 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 d
ressed, 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.