Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)

Practice started in ten minutes. If Faye didn’t show up soon, I was going to be late.

“Damn it.” I checked my phone, making sure I hadn’t missed a call or text, but other than her sure reply to my request to meet at the fieldhouse, I hadn’t heard from her since.

The parking lot that separated the fieldhouse and stadium was massive, but there weren’t many cars here today. Once school started, it would be packed, but at the moment, most vehicles belonged to employees or athletes who were on campus to practice.

From where I was standing at the base of the main entrance’s stairs, I’d see her when she drove in. Her car was fairly recognizable. She knew where the fieldhouse was, right? The building at my back was huge. Had she gone inside from a different entrance?

I hit her name, pressing my phone to my ear as I started down the sidewalk. As it rang, I glanced over my shoulder, checking the parking lot again.

“Answer the phone,” I muttered.

It kept on ringing. Three times. Four.

This is Faye. Leave a message.

“Fuck.” I didn’t have time for this. After Coach had found me in the weight room last week, I’d been on my best behavior. I’d promised to make it up to him and that’s what I’d been doing ever since. I couldn’t be late to practice.

I rounded the corner of the building, walking so fast it was almost a jog. Faye was nowhere in sight.

“Hell.” Asking her for a paternity test wasn’t urgent, but it also wasn’t something that I wanted to let drag out. Now that I’d decided to take Maverick’s advice, I wanted to get this conversation over with.

Had she gone into the fieldhouse already? I didn’t have time to make a lap both inside and out.

The summer sun beat down on my shoulders, soaking into my royal-blue T-shirt. Our first practice would be hot, but the second session, late this afternoon, would be scorching. Maybe Faye had gone inside for the air conditioning.

I jogged to the nearest entrance, a row of steel and glass doors that opened to the first floor. A few of the windowpanes were etched with the Wildcats emblem, and past the white logo, I caught a swish of strawberry-blond hair.

Yes. I could still make it to practice on time. I’d already changed into a pair of shorts and my tennis shoes. We’d be doing drills and conditioning most of the day, so I didn’t need pads or my helmet. All I had to do was ask Faye for that test, then I’d hustle to the practice field.

With a quick yank on the door, I stepped into the concrete hall. The sound of a sweet, musical laugh hit my ears.

Faye was smiling at Sam, a sophomore on the team.

“She’s the worst, right?” He grinned down at her, their eyes locked.

“I had her for an Exceptional Learners class junior year, and she was much better than she was in Relationships and Family Systems. But she was still brutal on my final.”

They must be talking about a professor. Was Sam an education major or something? We didn’t play much together since I was on offense and he was on special teams, so I wasn’t sure what he was studying.

But I really didn’t like the fact that he stared at Faye with stars in his eyes. And why the fuck were they standing so close?

Sam inched forward and lifted his hand to the sleeve of her T-shirt. “You’ve got a piece of lint.”

“Oh.” She brushed it away. “Thanks.”

“Would you ever want to go out for⁠—”

Absolutely fucking not. “Faye.”

Her face swung toward my clipped voice as I marched toward them. Good to know she could tear her attention away from Sam. “Hey.”

“Ramsey.” Sam jerked up his chin when I came to a stop at Faye’s side.

“Sam. See you outside at practice.” The unspoken “go away” was fairly clear, but this idiot didn’t take the hint.

“Yeah. One sec.” He gave Faye a shy smile. “Anyway, would you⁠—”

“Go away, Sam.” Was that clear enough?

He opened his mouth, but the scowl on my face must have convinced him it was better to stay quiet. With a dip of his head, he retreated down the hall, looking back just once.

Faye frowned as the sound of Sam’s footsteps faded. “What was that about?”

“If one of my teammates feels the need to flirt with you, do me a favor and put a stop to it.”

She recoiled, her mouth parting. “Excuse me? He was just being friendly.”

Friendly? My ass he was just being friendly, but I didn’t have time to argue about Sam. “Look, I’m late for practice because I’ve been waiting for you to⁠—”

“I’ve been here for twenty minutes. Waiting on you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shooting me a glare.

The last time I’d seen her she’d been hollow. Numb. But here was the spitfire I’d met camping.

The doors opened behind us, a few people walking inside. It was one of the track and field coaches with two kids who looked like they were in high school. The coach talked with her hands, pointing around, probably giving a tour.

“Come on.” I clasped Faye’s elbow to steer her down the hallway, but the moment my fingers wrapped around her arm, she yanked it away, and I earned another glare that was pure venom.

“What am I doing here, Rush?” Faye asked when we were out of earshot.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” she drawled, coming to a stop.

I gulped, squaring my shoulders. “I’d like a paternity test, and I’d like to know how many guys you’ve been with on the team.”

Phew. It came out in a single breath, barely a blip between words. But it was out there now.

Mav would be proud.

“I’m sorry.” Faye’s forehead furrowed. “What did you just say?”

Oh, hell. Was she really going to make me repeat it?

I opened my mouth, about to say it all again when she held up a finger.

“You want a paternity test.” Never in my life had I heard someone articulate a sentence so clearly.

“Yes, just to be sure that⁠—”

Her index finger sliced through the air, cutting me off. “And you want to know how many guys I’ve slept with on the team.”

Or kissed. Had she kissed any of them? “Yeah, I, uh⁠—”

“You don’t believe me.”

“What? No. I’m only⁠—”

“Calling me a liar.” Her voice got louder, a red flush creeping into her cheeks. “You’re only calling me a liar.”

“I’m not calling you⁠—”

“Are you calling me a whore?”

“No! Fuck.” I dragged a hand through my hair. How the hell did we end up here? Was it really so unreasonable for me to ask for some damn information? “Would you just listen to me?”

Her body began to tremble, as shaky as her voice. “You think I planned this, don’t you?”

Seriously? I stretched my arms wide. “That’s not what I’m saying, Faye!”

And if she’d listen to me, if she’d stop cutting me off, I’d explain.

“Then what?” Her voice was practically a shriek, so loud I barely heard the throat clear beside us.

I jerked, my eyes widening. Millie Cunningham was in the hallway. Millie was one of the assistant athletic directors. And she’d most definitely heard us fighting.

Not the best person to overhear, but at least she wasn’t a coach.

An apology was on the tip of my tongue, except before I could speak, Coach Ellis rounded the corner.

Damn it. I was late for practice and causing a scene in the hall. My ass was getting benched.

“What the hell is going on?” he barked.

Nothing, Coach. Just my life imploding.

Fuck.

Coach Ellis and Millie dragged us into a conference room where I got to summarize how Faye and I had met and how we’d hooked up. How we were going to be parents in the not-so-distant future.

“I didn’t mean to insinuate anything in the hallway.” I dragged a hand through my hair as I looked at Faye. She was staring anywhere but at my face. That hollowness was back too. It made me feel like I was about three inches tall.

Maybe I’d earned that.

“I’m just . . . I don’t know what I’m doing or saying,” I told her. “I only asked about other guys so that I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t like surprises.”

“And the paternity test?” Coach Ellis asked.

Probably not the worst idea, but yeah, my delivery could have been better.

“It’s fine,” Faye said before I could answer. Her hands were fisted on her lap. Her eyes were full of tears.

I was such an asshole.

“I’ll get one,” she said.

“You don’t have to.”

“No.” The betrayal in her voice was like a knife through my chest. “I’ll get the test. Then there won’t be any doubt.”

There was no doubt. Not now. Not after her reaction. Not with that conviction in her voice.

This baby was mine.

“Bit of advice,” Coach Ellis said. “Find a way to talk to each other. In person. Texts. Calls. Emails. Whatever. You’re going to get a lot of external input, but at the end of the day, all that matters is what you both decide together.”

Faye’s chin began to quiver.

Millie had taken the seat beside her. She reached over to put her hand on Faye’s. “You’ll be okay.”

I wished I was that sure.

Faye sniffled, a single tear falling down her cheek. “I’ll be okay.”

She didn’t believe that in the slightest, did she? I wasn’t sure I believed it either.

Coach Ellis’s gaze was waiting when I glanced over. The set of his jaw spoke volumes.

Yeah, I’d fucked that up.

“Thanks, Coach,” I murmured.

“You’re late for practice, Rush.” As in, time to go. Now.

“Yes, sir.” I stood and, even though Faye and I had plenty to discuss, left the conference room.

Damn it. I fisted my hands as I walked down the hall, resisting the urge to slam my knuckles into a concrete wall. I forced my legs to move, one after the next, until I reached an exit and shoved outside into the blazing sunshine. Then I marched to join the team.

Usually, I’d throw myself into practice. I’d let it drown out anything else. Except for the first time in a long, long time, the last thing I wanted to do was play football.

Sam was standing with a couple guys from special teams. Maybe if he hadn’t been flirting with Faye, I would have handled that better. Maybe not.

I resisted the urge to flip him off as I walked by and kept going toward where the offense was gathered.

Coach Parks spotted me and tapped his watch. He hated when players showed up late. He’d make me pay for it before the day was over.

“Rush.” Maverick jogged over, falling in step at my side. “So? Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d it go?”

I huffed a dry laugh. “Great. It went fucking great.”

Dolly’s Diner was in an area of Mission I hadn’t been before. There were no condos or apartment complexes like there were in the blocks that surrounded campus. There were no quaint family homes with manicured lawns. Actually, there didn’t seem to be many homes around here at all.

Just like Faye had said, the restaurant was on the outskirts of town, a couple blocks away from a truck stop along the highway.

I’d passed that truck stop a hundred times on my way in and out of Mission, yet I’d never once noticed Dolly’s. Probably because it was mostly hidden from view of the highway by a grove of trees and a faded blue steel building.

There weren’t offices or businesses nearby. I’d passed a small ranch with a dozen head of cattle in an overgrazed field. And there’d been a few old trailers on the road out that had seen better days.

I parked in a lot that was more pothole than paved asphalt. My car was the only vehicle in sight. Where was Faye’s Explorer? Did she park in the back? Hopefully there were more lights than the single, flickering lamp that lit the front entrance. I didn’t like the idea of her walking to her car at night without decent lighting.

The sign for Dolly’s Diner was neon red and trimmed in teal. It hung from a rusted post beside the restaurant. In case anyone missed that sign, the word DINER was spelled in white, blocked letters, each mounted on a stand from the roof.

The green siding was weathered and long overdue for a fresh coat of paint. It wasn’t big but it was bright, the florescent lights streaming outside to mingle with the evening glow.

A chime dinged as I opened the door and stepped inside. The sound was tinny and lingered in the empty space. The scents of syrup and sausage and cheeseburgers filled my nose and made my stomach growl.

It might not be the fanciest café in Mission, but damn, it smelled good. Maybe Faye worked here for the food. Couldn’t fault her for that. I was starving.

After practice and a shower, I’d thought about going home and making myself dinner. But I knew that the moment I walked through my front door, I’d find a reason to stay and avoid Faye.

So I’d forced myself to drive across town to this dingy diner and face the woman who was going to be a part of my life. Indefinitely.

I stood on an industrial doormat next to a sign that read Please Seat Yourself and scanned the space.

Teal, vinyl booths, the color the same as the sign outside, lined the windows. Two rows of tables filled the center of the restaurant. Their tops were white laminate and their edges lined with aluminum. Most were chipped to the wood beneath and a few had permanent coffee stains. On each, there was a caddy of red ketchup and yellow mustard bottles stowed beside shakers of salt and pepper.

The diner wasn’t long or wide. At most, fifty people could enjoy a meal at Dolly’s, and I had a hunch that this place rarely reached capacity.

A silver swing door with an oval window in its face whipped open.

Faye emerged from what I assumed was the kitchen. She had a stack of plastic menus in one hand and a bunch of napkin-rolled silverware in the other. The moment she spotted me, she froze.

“Hey.”

She dropped her gaze to the white-and-black-checkered tile floor. “What are you doing here?”

As in, you weren’t invited, Rush. I deserved that. “I’m sorry, Faye.”

She swallowed hard.

Please seat yourself? I took the sign’s invitation and walked to the third booth against the windows. The vinyl stretched and creaked as I slid into the bench. My knees whacked the metal post and my chest brushed the table’s edge.

This spot clearly wasn’t made for a six-three, 220-pound man. But I relaxed into the seat, pretending like I’d never been more comfortable. And I wasn’t going anywhere, not yet.

Faye huffed and trudged over, dropping a menu and a set of silverware for me before taking the rest to a waitress station in the corner. She filled a glass with ice water, bringing it over, but rather than set it down, she lifted it higher. “I sort of want to dump this over your head.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

She arched an eyebrow, and for three heartbeats, I braced to get soaked. But then she set it on the table, a bit too hard, and the water sloshed over the rim. “What do you want?”

“To start over.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. You don’t get to erase what you said.”

Wow. She really wasn’t going to cut me any slack, was she? But I guess I hadn’t earned any. The paternity test was one thing, but the more I’d thought about it, the ask for her roster of past lovers had crossed the line.

Too far. I’d gone way too far.

She hadn’t asked me for a list of my ex-girlfriends or hookups. What the hell gave me the right to demand hers?

“Fair enough,” I said, my fingers drumming on the table. “Coach said we should figure out how to talk to each other. It’s a good idea. Maybe we could start by something other than texting.”

“Okay,” she drawled.

“I don’t like to text. I’d rather call or talk in person.”

“Really?” Faye’s nose scrunched up at the bridge.

“Blame it on my parents.” I shrugged. “They aren’t big texters either. My mom never answers them, so if I want to talk to her, I have to call. I kind of got into that habit with everyone else. It’s easier. Hearing someone’s voice. If it’s okay, can I call you?”

“Oh. Um, yeah.”

Progress. “I really am sorry about what I said.”

Her caramel gaze dropped once more to the floor, like the shame of that moment still weighed on her mind.

Yep, I was an asshole.

“I’ll do better,” I promised. “We’ll figure this out. We’ll rally.”

Her eyes shot to mine, staring for so long that I fought the urge to squirm. But then her arms uncrossed, falling to her sides. “Can I get you anything to eat?”

I flipped open the menu, breathing a full inhale and exhale for the first time since I’d walked into Dolly’s Diner. “Please.”