Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“We’re going to dinner, catch up,” Corie calls over her shoulder.
“I’m going to head home. You good?” Baker asks.
“We’re good,” I assure him. “Thanks for sticking around.”
“I want to hear all about it,” he tells me, picking his bag up off the floor.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I assure him.
“I’m following my wife and the food,” Landry says, walking away in the same direction as the girls.
“Yep,” Knox says, trailing behind him.
“What about you?” I ask Foster.
“Everything good?” he asks.
“Yeah, he was pissed, but my girl put him in his place. Lots of anger there,” I confess.
“You stand beside her. She’s what’s important now.” There’s something in his eyes, as if he’s trying to tell me without saying the words.
“I know, my man.” I clamp a hand down on his shoulder. “I don’t know who she is, or what happened, but it’s not too late to make it right.”
Foster doesn’t acknowledge my words. Instead, he says, “Let’s eat. I’m starving.”
My friend has something he’s holding close to his chest, and one day, he’s going to let us help him through whatever it is. I want him to get his girl, the one who makes him as happy as my dream girl makes me.
Foster walks away, and I pull my phone from my pocket to text Landon.
Me: Thinking about scaling a wall.
Landon will know what that means. He scaled that wall at the stadium during a game to get to his now-wife, Tessa.
Landon: My man! I can’t wait to meet her.
Me: We’re having a baby.
Landon: Damn, bro, are you trying to make me look bad? Looks like my wife and I have some catching up to do.
Me: Talk soon.
Landon: Take care of her.
Me: I plan to, my man.
There is nothing I want more than to take care of my family.
Chapter Sixteen
Bellamy
Pulling my sweater tighter around me, I make my way up the front porch of my mom’s house. It was warm enough today that wearing this sweater over my T-shirt was sufficient, but now that the sun’s gone down and the wind’s picked up, it’s become cold. That’s October weather in Tennessee.
Mom insisted on making dinner and that Amanda and I join her. When I told her I was going to watch the game, she made it a point to invite me to her place to watch it. I know this has to be weird for her, but she was insistent, and I couldn’t tell her no. So, here I am, walking into my mother’s house to watch my dad’s team on TV. Not just my dad, but my man, too. Dad was coaching college when they divorced, and as far as I know, my mom doesn’t follow his career or the team, but she has been this season because of Reid.
It’s weird, and makes my belly twist with unease, but I’m here, and I’m thankful my best friend beat me here—she can be our buffer. I’ve never needed a buffer with my mom. Before meeting Reid, I told her pretty much everything about my life. Now, I feel guilty telling her how happy my football-playing baby daddy makes me, when her husband didn’t do the same.
“There she is,” Mom says as I walk into the kitchen, where she and Amanda are sitting. “Let’s eat.”
“Did you make your cheesy chicken, broccoli, and rice?” I ask, even though I’d recognize the smell anywhere.
“Yep.” Mom grins.
We all busy ourselves filling our plates and carrying them to the dining room.
“Reid and his team are having a good season so far,” Mom says.
“You’ve been watching?” I mean, I know she told me that she has, but I’m still shocked.
“Of course. Week five and undefeated. That’s impressive,” Mom boasts.
“They’re doing well.”
“Your father must be proud.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I admit.
“How is he with Reid?” Mom asks. I’ve been waiting for this question.
“Honestly, in the beginning, he was riding him pretty hard at practice, always calling him out, but since the day we told him about the baby, Reid says he’s been more dismissive than an asshole, so I guess that’s better.” I shrug.
“Bellamy, your father’s a good man,” Mom says gently.
“He left us.”
“Sweetheart, relationships are tough, and it’s just as much my fault as it was his. I wanted more of his time, and he was building a career to support us. He still supported us. He bought this house, paid for everything you might ever need, and then some. He might not have been here, but even after the divorce, he supported us.”
“He left us.” Thankfully, I’ve finished eating, or this conversation would have made me lose my appetite.
“He tried so many times to see you, and you refused. I wanted to make you, but your dad said not to. He didn’t want to force you, but he missed you.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” I tell her.