by Hannah Gray
“Yeah, that—wait, as in … Trent Kade? Because I saw he was taken to that hospital last night. Never mind. Obviously, you aren’t talking about Trent Kade, New England Patriots’ quarterback. I’m being stupid.”
I don’t say anything. Just turn my attention out the window. Hoping it’ll slip by her. Only it doesn’t. At all.
“Wait … I heard you say Mason. And everyone who loves football knows Mason King and Trent Kade are best friends. And last night, they played each other here, in New York.” She quickly glances at me again.
I look back over and shrug.
“Holy fuckballs,” she squeals. “Is that baby Mason King’s? Are you carrying Mason fucking King’s baby in uterus or whatever it’s called?”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Don’t make a big deal of it. Professional athlete or not, he abandoned us, so fuck him.”
That snaps her out of it. “Right, right! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. He’s been a total dickface to you, and I choose this moment to fan out. Sorry, love. Anyway, why do you think he chased you down?”
“I have no idea,” I answer honestly. “I can’t figure it out. He ignored months and months of texts and phone calls. Ones where I told him about this baby. Our baby. Yet he ignored them. He chose his fate. No sense in him trying to play the good guy now. That ship has sailed, then it got taken over by pirates, then it caught on fire, and then guess what happened.”
She looks at me and shrugs, afraid to answer, seeing as I’m being a lunatic right now.
I smile cruelly and shrug. “And then … well then, that fucker sank.”
I have no time or patience in my life for a man who’s going to half-ass being there for this baby. She deserves more than that. He can go fuck his couch for all I care. I’m done playing games.
thirty-five
Mason
I pull up in front of the apartment building that I found out is Anna’s. Gazing up, I take it in. It looks nice enough. Not sketchy with hobos and drug dealers sitting outside, so that’s a plus. Why I had that vision in my head, I have no fucking clue. Her parents are loaded. Obviously, she isn’t living in a crack village.
I should have worn my fucking football cup to protect my pecker. Anna didn’t get the nickname Red just for her hair. She’s fucking feisty. She might spot me and take a knife right out. Who the fuck knows? She plays dirty sometimes.
After a call to a friend I have at NYPD, I not only found out where she lives, but also what apartment number is hers. Looks like it pays to be a famous athlete after all. I should have told him where to look if I go missing. She might kill me.
I buzz her number, and after a few minutes, I hear her voice. That voice that’s velvety smooth while also being a little rough. It’s all wrapped up in one sexy tone.
“Hello?”
“Anna, it’s me, Mason. Don’t call the police or some shit. I brought your favorite dessert—whoopie pies.”
Apparently, in Maine, whoopie pies are a big deal. I wasn’t sure what flavor, so I went ahead and bought one of every kind at this bakery I found. So, here I stand, with three bags full of these damn things.
“Take a hint and go away. I don’t want to see you, Mason. Please, respect my wishes and quietly fuck off.”
Leaning my head against the building, I sigh. “I just want a chance to talk and explain everything. I want to know how you’re doing.” I try to talk calmly.
With Anna, if I get worked up and get loud, she’ll just get worse, and she’ll flip her shit.
The line goes unanswered, and I know that she has probably disabled it so that I can’t call up anymore.
I see an older lady with her keys coming to the door. I’m taking this opportunity. As much as I want to break into her room and make her listen to me even if that means physically holding her ass still, I don’t feel like getting murdered by her today. So, I do the next thing I can think of.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” I call to the lady.
She turns, looking confused. “Yes. Can I help you?”
I turn on that Mason King charm and throw her a grin. “I’m in a hurry, and I have to leave. My pregnant friend needs these. She’s in apartment 4C. Could you drop them off to her? Her name is Anna.”
“What a nice boy you are. She’s lucky to have you as a friend. Yes, I can. I’d be happy to.”
“Thanks so much. I appreciate it.” I pass her a card with my assistant’s name written on it. “If you like football, call this number, and you will get free tickets to our next home game. Sound good?”
She looks at me, confused for a moment, and then her entire face lights up. “Oh. My. Goodness! Mason King! The wide receiver for New York. My husband loves you. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I’m honestly not much into football. But my husband watches it religiously.” She continues to shake her head in disbelief. “My husband will never believe me that you were here!”
Holding my arms out, I smile. “Do you have a cell phone?”
She nods.
“Well, come on in here for a selfie. Then, he’ll have to believe you.” I never do shit like this. Normally, I hide when I’m out in public. Disguising myself with sunglasses and a hat pulled low. But I can read people easily. And this lady is a good person; I know it. I feel like this is the least I can do for troubling her with three bags of damn whoopie pies.
She erupts into cheers and starts clapping before giving me her cell and throwing her arm around me. I snap a picture of us and then hand her phone back to her.
“Thanks again for taking these to my friend. You’re helping me out a ton.” With that, I say good-bye and turn to leave.
As much as I wanted to see Anna today, I understand it’s going to take time to get back into her life. I’m sure she’s spent however many months feeling confused, scared, and even though she’s way too proud to admit it, hurt. Getting her trust back is going to take some time. Unlucky for her, I’m a patient man.
thirty-six
Anna
“He literally brought you what, like, thirty whoopie pies?” Cameran asks. Shock is written all over her face.
I nod, looking into the phone at my best friend. I take a bite of one called Birthday Cake Surprise.
“Sure did. Fucker owes me a thousand more and Olive Garden breadsticks for life to make it right though. Oh, and some fried pickles. Fried pickles sound so good.” I sigh, thinking about them.
She looks confused, and her brow furrows. “I just don’t get it. Why does he suddenly care? Why was he even at the hospital?”
“I think one of his teammates took a hard hit or something. Who knows with those meatheads?” I shrug and move on to a pumpkin-flavored whoopie pie. Giving myself the pregnancy pass for being a pig.
I decide it’s best not to tell her the truth that it was Trent. It’ll only make her worry, and that’s the last thing I want. We don’t speak Trent’s name anymore. I used to bring him up sometimes, but she finally told me it wasn’t helping her get on with her life when I was always gushing about how much he loved her. And love her he did. I sigh. I wish someone would love me like that. Or at all really. Aside from Cameran, I don’t have anyone. This baby will love me though. I’ll make sure of it.
“Well … maybe you should hear him out,” she suggests, and I can tell she was nervous to even say the words. She should be.
“Pot, meet kettle,” I deadpan.
Hurt crosses her features before she smooths them out. I shouldn’t have said that, but damn it, she wouldn’t forgive Trent for something stupid, so why should I forgive Mason?
She gives me a kind smile, and her sweet voice speaks softly, “I know. I just meant, for you and for the baby. It might be beneficial to hear him out.”
“I know. Look, I’ll consider it. But I’m not ready yet. I have so much anger in me, and I just can’t yet. Okay?”
I love Cameran. Really, I do. But she doesn’t understand that I have been pregnant and afraid and alone for months now. I can’t just get over that.
&
nbsp; “All right.” She glances at her watch. “Shoot, lunch is almost over. Gotta go before my students come back.”
“Your little shits, you mean?” I joke.
“Soon enough, you’ll have your own little shit. And hey, they aren’t little shits. They are adorable humans.”
I nod. “If you say so.”
We say our good-byes before ending the FaceTime call. Thank God for FaceTime. I still get to see my best friend’s beautiful face. Even if she says things I don’t really want to hear.
I feel a foot—or maybe it’s a hand—poking around my stomach, which causes me to smile. Looking down at my belly and patting the spot, I feel the movement. “Did you like the whoopie pies, little love? Your daddy brought them for you. I know he loves you, and I know I love you. So, maybe, just maybe, it will all be okay. Mommy’s got you, okay? I’ll never let anyone hurt you. And if they do, I’ll punch them in the throat.”
And I mean it. I truly will.
thirty-seven
Mason
“Good win, boys. Damn good win.” Coach slaps us each on the back as we walk into the locker room.
College football and playing in the NFL are a helluva lot different. But one thing they have in common? Teammates become family. We all learn how to work together. When we work together, we win together. We all joke around, just like my teammates at NEU did. The biggest difference? Money. Money and fame.
At NEU, students and locals treated us like celebrities. But now, we’re actual celebrities. And with it comes a whole lot of baggage. I mean, we can’t go in a restaurant or park without being seen. If we’re seen, we are expected to sign autographs and take pictures. That’s not to say that I don’t love my fans. Because I do. I thrive on game day because of them, and they push me to be the player that I am. But it can be a lot, to put it lightly. It’s exhausting. Sometimes, I’d like for no one to know me at all. With the right hat and sunglasses, I can disguise myself. But not every time.
Then, there is the other side to it. If that baby is mine and Anna allows me in the picture, that will put Anna and the baby in the spotlight. How will she react to that? These are all things that have kept me awake at night the past week since finding out. People can be fucking vicious. The thought of someone hurting her feelings guts me.
I’ve gone by Anna’s every day that I can. Being in the NFL keeps me fucking busy though. So, usually, it’s at odd times. Thank fuck she’s in New York City, not Maine. If she were in Maine, that would make popping in on my free days impossible. I can’t believe she’s been in the city this whole time, and I had no idea. When I pictured her and what she was up to, I imagined she was at her house in Maine, with her family, who wasn’t mad at her anymore because she wasn’t around me. I wonder how things are with her parents. I wonder how they feel about the baby. Fuck, if it is mine, they’ll be pissed.
“Yo, King. Can you come over for a drink tomorrow afternoon?” Blaze says and tips his chin up in my direction.
“Sure. Four o’clock work?” That will give me time to try to see Anna after practice.
“Yep. See you then.” He’s not his usual chipper self.
But then again, his sister and I had an unspoken agreement at the hospital that I need to take care of whatever’s going on with Anna. I hope Blaze isn’t too pissed. Who am I kidding? It is his little sister. If I had a sister and I thought some punk was using her, I’d mash his face in with my fist. But that isn’t what happened. At least, that was never my intention.
I leave the locker room, thrilled about our win. But dreading the awkward conversation I’m about to have tomorrow with one of my best friends. Talk about a bittersweet day.
“So … you wanted me to come over?” I awkwardly ask and take a sip of the beer Lauren brought me.
He eyes me over for a moment before nodding. “Yep, I did. I’m just curious what the fuck happened with you and Stassi. She suddenly moved out and went back to Chicago. Just need to know if I need to kick your ass.”
Dragging my hand over my face, I groan. There’s no easy way to say what I need to. But he’s my buddy, and he deserves honesty.
“Look, man, I was always up-front with Stassi. She knew I wasn’t looking for marriage or endgame shit.” I pause, seeing his very unimpressed facial expression. I continue, “I just don’t have it in me to love her. She deserves so much better than that. I’m sorry if she got the wrong idea.”
His eyes narrow. “So, there isn’t another woman?”
I lean back in my chair. “I don’t fucking know, man. Did Stassi tell you anything?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. She just said not to be upset with you and that you were going to need a friend. I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean.” His voice is filled with frustration.
The two of them are close. And maybe, in his eyes, she’s some fragile girl, looking for Mr. Right. But to me, she was just as careless as I was. That first night, she was the one who followed me out of that party. She was the one who wanted to fool around. Maybe she started catching feelings, the longer I let it go on, but she had known the deal, going in. I was always transparent.
Digging deep and finding my balls, I take a long breath. “Well, I want to be one hundred percent honest with you. Since the beginning, I told her there was no future with me. I enjoyed her company. I respect the hell out of who she is as a person, and she deserves the world, but I can’t be the one who gives it to her. I’m sorry for that.”
“And why is that, Mase?” His interrogation continues on.
Yee-fucking-haw.
I’m unsure of how to even answer his question when I don’t fully understand it myself. I mean, yeah, I had obvious feelings for Anna. And I think of her at least once a day still. I knew if it wasn’t for her parents, I would have wanted to see where things went. But it isn’t as if we had some soul-recognition, love-at-first-sight type of shit going on. We spent a weekend fucking. That was it. And several months of being really good friends. So, yeah, to say I can’t give myself to another girl because I love someone else, it sounds fucking nuts.
“We went to the hospital after the game last Sunday. And when we were there, I saw someone I used to know not too long ago.”
“Back in college?” he tosses back.
I nod. “Yeah. Instead of attending our graduation ceremony, we spent the weekend together.” I take a deep breath, prepared for shit to get awkward. “And, uh, well, Stassi and I saw her at the hospital … Anna … and she was quite, uh … pregnant.” I feel the oxygen leaving my brain. It sounds fucking insane, saying it out loud that there’s a possibility that I could be the baby’s dad. A very strong possibility.
He looks confused for a moment before his eyes widen. “And you think—fuck, King, you think you could be the baby daddy?”
“I don’t know!” I drag my hand over my face. “I mean, it would make sense if I was. I don’t think she’s the type to sleep around a lot.”
He sits back in his seat and takes a swig of his beer, clearly mind-boggled. “What did Stassi say about it?”
“I think she’s the one who made me realize I could be the dad. And she also said something else when she learned it was Anna at the hospital.” I grimace at what I’m about to say to the brother of the woman I was sleeping with.
“Well, what the fuck was it?” he growls.
“She said I talked about Anna in my sleep sometimes. I’m sorry, man. It isn’t like I knew I was doing it.”
He’s quiet for a bit. I’m about to ask him if he wants me to leave when his words surprise me. “You obviously care for this girl if you dream about her, King.”
I nod. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Why didn’t it work out before?” he asks, seeming genuinely curious.
I laugh bitterly. “It’s a pretty funny story actually. My tool-bag half-brother, who used to date her, told me that if I didn’t leave her alone, her parents would threaten to cut her off. I didn’t want to be responsible for that shit.”<
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Sitting up in his seat, he gives me a pointed look. “Wait a second. Did you even ever talk to her about it?”
Looking at the ground, I shake my head. “No, I didn’t.”
How the fuck could I have been so stupid as to not even ask for confirmation that this shit was true? Even I know how Maverick is. Why did I trust his words? Part of me knows I was looking for a way out. Relationships scare the fuck out of me. I knew Red had the ability to hurt me if she wanted to. I sabotaged myself before she had the chance.
“Dude, you’re a fucking moron,” he says with a laugh and hits my arm.
“Thanks, fuckface. And believe me, I’m realizing that now.”
“Well, you know what you have to do now. If that baby is yours.”
“What?”
“Go fucking get your family, man. You don’t want to miss the birth of your baby. If it is your baby. It would suck for you if it was like the mailman’s baby or some shit.” He laughs, and I punch him in the shoulder.
“Fuck off.” I pretend to be mad, but looking at his face as he laughs hysterically at his stupid joke, it’s tough.
For the remainder of our visit, we sit there in mere silence, and I think about what my next step is to making this right.
thirty-eight
Anna
I hobble into the office with my crutches. It has been a few weeks since I fell. Cameran insisted on coming out, but I told her no. I want her to come out for the birth and be able to stay a few days. Lord knows, I’ll need the help. She’s also going to be coming out for a few weekends before that, just to visit. I think we both miss each other more than we care to admit.
“Oh shit. You poor thing.” Jill gets up from her desk and pulls a chair out for me.
I ungraciously collapse into it. Luckily, the sprain wasn’t all that bad; they think in three to four weeks, I’ll be off these god-awful things.