Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Tears prick my eyes. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I need the practice,” he says as the room goes silent.
“Well, there’s that.” Eden laughs. “We’re pregnant!” she cheers, and the room erupts with hugs and congratulations.
“We’re going on vacation!” Corie calls out, and the guys don’t look confused; they simply cheer and kiss their wives. Foster takes a seat next to Eden, and they both talk to Mia. She smiles at Eden, and within a few minutes, she’s crawling onto her lap, laughing and smiling.
I open my mouth to offer to take her, but I stop myself. These are my people. They’re our family. If they want to love on my daughter, I’m going to let them. I’m going to sit my ass here in this recliner, smile, and take it all in. I’m going to let them help and not feel an ounce of guilt, because I know they love her as much as I do.
I’ll always worry that I’m not enough, but in this moment, those fears stay parked in the back of my mind, where they belong. Instead, I enjoy being with the people who have been there for me and supported me from the beginning. I’m not a part of the Nashville Rampage. I have no connection outside of my friendship with Bellamy, but they’ve welcomed me into their circle all the same, and I’ll never take a single day of that acceptance for granted.
The noise in the room swells with laughter as it fills the air. Mia squeals when Eden bounces her gently, and the sound threads through the chaos. Pure and bright.
I don’t stress over making sure I’m the one taking care of her; instead, I sit back and listen to the multiple conversations, watching those closest to me enjoying a night of just being.
For so long, everything has felt like a matter of survival. Late nights alone. Second-guessing every decision. Wondering if I was ruining her in ways I wouldn’t see until it was too late. I’d convinced myself that being strong meant doing it all on my own. That accepting help was the same as admitting I couldn’t handle it.
But seeing Foster holding Mia like she’s something precious, like she’s always belonged in his arms, I feel that belief loosening its grip. Eden rains kisses all over her cheeks, making Mia squeal with delight, and the sight warms my soul.
I’m so engrossed in watching my daughter be happy and soak up every ounce of attention that I don’t notice Bellamy until she perches on the arm of the recliner beside me and nudges my knee. “You good?” she asks quietly, eyes soft.
I nod. “Yeah. Perfect. Grateful,” I add, because that’s the best I’ve got right now.
She studies me like she knows there’s more behind that word, but she doesn’t push. She never does. That’s one of the reasons this group works. No one here pries open wounds just to look at them. They just sit beside you until you’re ready. Bellamy has been my best friend since we were little kids. She’s been with me through so much, and I don’t need to say more for her to understand what I’m feeling. She just knows.
Across the room, someone makes a joke about team bonding, and one of the guys pretends to give a locker room speech. The familiar teasing about the Nashville Rampage starts up. Who’s late to practice, who forgot an anniversary, who cries at dog commercials. It’s ridiculous, warm, and easy.
Landry stands and puffs out his chest, braces his feet apart, and places his hands in his pockets. “Who am I?” he asks.
“Coach!” the guys call out, laughing.
“He’d have your a—butt,” Reid says, wincing, making sure the kids are not paying too much attention to us.
“He would,” Bellamy agrees.
My happy slides into guilt. This is all new and forbidden. I kissed my best friend’s dad, and I can’t tell her. She’d hate me. I can’t tell her, because she would expect me to say I’m sorry and that it was a mistake and that I’m filled with regret. And while some of that is true, I’m also torn, because I wanted that kiss. It’s wrong, and I’m the worst friend on the planet, but the fact remains the same.
I wanted to kiss Will.
Hell, I wanted more, if I’m being honest with myself, but that’s all locked deep inside. In a place inside me that I’ll never open or set free. I’ll take that moment with me to the grave. Just Will and me. I haven’t spoken to him since then, and I know that I need to. I need to make sure he doesn’t tell her about that kiss. My moment of weakness, where I needed to feel his lips on mine as much as I needed oxygen in my lungs.