Rally (Treasure State Wildcats Book 3)

As I walked into my parents’ hotel room, Dad clapped me on the shoulder. “Good game, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.” My voice was hoarse. Probably because my fucking heart was in my fucking throat.

I’d been dreading this conversation for ten days. Well, longer actually. But since Faye had given me the go-ahead to tell my parents, it had been hard to think about much else.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Mom opened her arms for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” I rested my chin on top of her head as she held tight. When she let me go, I sat at the small table in the corner of their room. My knees started to bounce the second my ass was on the chair’s edge.

Somehow, during the game today, I’d managed to block this out. I’d managed to shut out the world and just think about football. But the minute the game had ended, the minute the Wildcats had declared victory, the rush of nerves had returned to turn me inside out.

How did I say this? Everything I’d rehearsed sounded flat. They’d assume it was Halsey, just like Maverick had when I’d told him. Then I’d have to admit to a one-night stand and sex was not a topic I’d broached with my mother since I was thirteen.

But better here, in private, than anywhere else.

It would be hard enough to take the blow of their disappointment in private. I didn’t need spectators while I devastated my parents.

Normally after a game, Mom and Dad would stick around the fieldhouse and wait for me to finish with the postgame meeting and a shower. Tonight, I’d told them not to wait and that I’d meet them here.

My hands were shaking as my knees kept bouncing.

Just do it. Say it. Get this over with.

Throw the ball. And see where it lands.

“Where should we go to dinner?” Mom asked as she dug into her purse, pulling out a tube of lipstick. “I don’t know if I want to brave downtown. I’d rather go somewhere quiet so we can talk.”

“Me too.” Dad sat on the foot of their bed. “Maybe pizza?”

“I’ve got a place. A diner.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But before we go, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Is something wrong?” Mom put the cap on her lipstick. “School? Or football?”

“Neither.” I leaned my elbows on my knees and stared at the abstract design of the denim-blue carpet.

Then, in a stream of words that barely made sense, I told my mom and dad they were going to be grandparents.

Dad’s truck had been parked outside Dolly’s Diner, engine off, for five minutes. We were still inside, sitting in silence, each still wearing our seat belts.

None of us moved to get out. None of us seemed to know what to say either.

So we just sat here, the three of us, reeling from my announcement.

It was real now. Not that it hadn’t been real before, but now that my parents knew about the baby, about Faye, it was real.

I was going to be a dad.

And when I glanced to my own, the sting in my nostrils and burn in my throat were unbearable. I wasn’t going to cry. But damn it, I kind of wanted to cry. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried, but I’d been fighting it since we’d left the hotel.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you guys,” I whispered.

“Oh, Rush.” Mom sniffled from the back seat and reached forward to touch my shoulder. “Don’t say that.”

“We’re so proud of you.” Dad looked over with watery eyes. “This is just . . . a curveball.”

Dad’s favorite sport was baseball. He loved watching me play football, but baseball was his passion. In the hardest moments of my life, whenever Dad had something to teach me, baseball analogies were always part of the lesson.

And that curveball analogy was exactly what I’d needed to hear.

“I don’t know what this means for the future,” I said, twisting to talk to Mom.

She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a wadded tissue. “It means that we’ll have an excuse other than a football game to come visit.”

“Faye is three months pregnant?” Dad asked, and God, I could hug the man for not stumbling over a single word in that question. Not pregnant. Not Faye’s name.

“Yes. Three months.”

“Then I think we’re overdue for an introduction.” He gave me a sure nod, then plucked the keys from the console and opened the door.

Fresh air flooded the truck’s cab, crisp and cool. We’d sat in the hotel room for so long that night had crept over Mission. The mountain horizons were nearly black against the fading blue sky in the distance, and the last of the sun’s rays had vanished on the drive to the diner.

I drew in a breath, held it in my lungs, then reached for the door’s handle.

Maybe making the announcement and introducing them to Faye was too much for one night. Maybe I’d regret it come morning. But Mom and Dad didn’t come to Mission often. And before they left, I wanted them to know Faye. I wanted them to see her face and maybe even that shy smile.

And maybe I wanted her to see them too.

She should know that I had good parents. Kind parents. People who were better than I was. People who’d support her too.

They hadn’t asked me if I was sure about the pregnancy. They hadn’t asked me if we’d gotten a paternity test.

Either they trusted me to be certain.

Or it hadn’t crossed their minds. They’d already given Faye the benefit of the doubt.

“Dolly’s.” Mom scanned the front of the diner as she hopped out of the truck. “Oh my goodness.”

“What?”

She looked over at Dad, held out a hand for him to clasp and laughed. “I kind of forgot about this place.”

Dad chuckled. “Me too.”

She smiled at him, then at me. “We used to come here. Ages ago. When we were in college. Not often, but sometimes for a big breakfast after a night at the bars downtown.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t even realize it was still open.”

“Do you think the pancakes are the same?” Dad asked her.

“I bet so.” Mom exhaled a breath so loud and full of relief I couldn’t help but feel it too. She extended her other hand, taking mine. “In all our years coming to visit you, we never once thought to bring you out here for a breakfast. I’m taking Dolly’s as a good sign. It’s all going to be okay.”

I hoped she was right.

As we reached the door, I held it open for them to go inside first. They took it all in, nostalgia widening their smiles.

Mom and Dad had met in Mission while they’d been in college, and their love for Treasure State was part of the reason I’d decided to come here for school. I’d had scholarship offers from bigger schools. I could have been part of a larger program with more media visibility and sponsorship opportunities. But I’d been a Wildcat since the day I was born.

This was my school as much as it was Mom and Dad’s. And while the ranch was home, Mission would always be a close second for us all.

“It looks the same.” Dad leaned down to speak in Mom’s ear.

If they noticed the worn floor tiles or chipped tabletops, they didn’t seem to care. Hell, maybe it really did look like it had twenty-something years ago.

There were more people in the dining room tonight than normal. Maybe this was a typical Saturday night? Dusty must make most of her money on the weekends because I’d never seen this many people at Dolly’s. Nearly half of the tables were occupied.

The swinging door flew open and Faye walked out, her hands loaded with three plates each with an omelet beside golden hash browns.

Her caramel eyes flicked to me standing inside the doorway and an instant smile tugged at her mouth.

Usually when I walked in the door, I’d get a blush or tiny wave. But that smile?

That smile was a reason to come to Dolly’s every chance I could get.

The twist in my chest was so hard I nearly choked.

Her gaze shifted to Mom and Dad, and the smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

I was the twenty-one-year-old version of my father. She knew immediately who I’d brought along tonight.

“Hey,” I said as she rushed by, her cheeks flushed.

“Hey. Give me a minute.”

As she continued on to a table in the center of the room, Mom leaned into my side. “That’s her?”

“That’s Faye.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. She is.”

Mom’s hand came to my back, rubbing up and down my spine like she used to do when I was a kid.

Faye served her customers, then went to check on a booth. Her hair was in a high ponytail and the ends swished across her shoulder blades as she walked. When she finished taking an order, she seemed to pause for a moment, steeling her spine before facing us.

When she crossed the room, it was with a polite smile, but one that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hi,” she said, holding out her hand to Mom. “I’m Faye.”

“Hi, Faye.” Mom clasped Faye with both her hands, and for a moment, I thought she’d pull her in for a hug. But Mom restrained herself. “I’m Macy. Rush’s mom.”

“Nice to meet you.” Faye pulled her hand free and gave it to Dad.

“Ryan Ramsey. Glad to meet you.”

Faye forced that smile wider. “Are you staying?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “Thought we’d eat here tonight.”

“Okay.” She extended a hand toward the dining area. “Any seat you’d like. I’ll bring over menus.”

My parents both nodded, then headed toward an empty booth, giving me a minute alone with Faye.

“You told them?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And?” She worried her lip between her teeth.

“They were shocked at first. Pretty quiet. Then Mom asked to meet you. She thinks you’re beautiful and will probably try to hug you before we leave. Dad asked if you’ve been to the doctor and if everyone was healthy.”

“Oh.” Faye’s mouth parted, then she dropped her gaze to the floor, hiding whatever reaction she didn’t want me to see.

“Hey.” I hooked my finger under her chin, tipping up her face until I saw the tears swimming in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She sniffled, waving it away. “I mean, you said you were going to tell them. I guess I just didn’t expect them to be . . . nice.”

She didn’t have enough nice people in her life.

Well, today, she’d earned two more.

I wanted to haul her into my arms. Hold her until those tears were gone. But I kept my distance and jerked my chin toward the booth where my parents were not even trying to hide their stares. “I’ll grab menus for us.”

“I can do it.”

“So can I.” I walked to the waitress station, plucking three laminated menus from their holder, then carried them to the booth. When I glanced back, Faye was gone and the swinging door was wagging on its hinges.

“Is she okay?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, Mom. She’s good.”

She took a menu, glancing toward the door a few more times, concern deepening the gentle creases in her forehead.

“She’s all right.” I chuckled. “This is a lot to deal with, especially for her.”

“And you,” Dad said with a small smile. Then he tapped the menu and tossed an arm over the back of the booth. “I’m getting pancakes, eggs and sausage links.”

“Me too,” I said.

“Me three.” Mom collected our menus, stacking them together as the diner’s front door blew open and a guy stormed inside.

He passed the waitress station and marched toward the kitchen. With both hands, he shoved the swinging door, pushing it so hard it clattered open. Then he was gone inside like he owned the damn place.

What the hell? Who was that?

The sound of something metal hitting the floor clanged. Conversation in the dining room faded to a low murmur as people stared, ears strained.

I was on my feet, halfway there, when I heard Faye’s voice.

“Justin, don’t.”

“Fuck you, Faye.”

I lengthened my strides, walking into the kitchen just in time to see Dusty swipe a knife off a magnetic holder.

“Get the hell out.” She pointed the blade’s tip at the guy’s nose from across the stainless-steel table that separated them. “Now.”

Faye stood on the same side of the table as Dusty. Her arms were wrapped around her middle. Her gaze met mine for a split second before she aimed a glare at the guy.

Justin? So this was her ex?

He looked about our age. I didn’t recognize him from campus but he was probably a student too. He stood a few inches shorter than me and his clothes were baggy on his lean frame. Without question, if he didn’t heed Dusty’s warning, I’d gladly toss his ass out the front door.

Without breaking a sweat.

“Your shit is out of the house. Tonight, Faye.”

“You can’t do that.” Faye seethed, a fire raging to life in her eyes. “I already paid you rent for the month. You’re not kicking me out.”

“Either you empty your room tonight, or I’ll throw everything outside myself.” Justin pointed to her the same way Dusty still pointed to him with that knife. “You’re gone. Locks are changed tomorrow.”

Faye’s nostrils flared. For a moment, she looked ready to tell him no. But then she flicked her wrist, dismissing him completely. “Fine. Leave.”

Justin backed away a step, sneering as he looked her up and down. “Can’t believe you.”

“Out.” Dusty pointed the tip of her knife toward the door.

Justin turned, realizing for the first time that I was standing in the kitchen. He glared for a moment and opened his mouth.

But the second he noticed my hands fisted, the fury radiating off my frame, he must have thought better of whatever he’d planned to say because without a word, he stomped past me and threw open the swinging door. A moment later, the front door’s chime came next to tell us he was gone.

Dusty slapped the knife onto the holder, the blade sticking. “You okay?”

Faye shook her head. “So he cheats on me, yet I get kicked out of the house. Asshole.”

Wait. He’d cheated on her?

Yeah, should have tossed him out myself.

“You know my couch is yours, honey. Bring everything over. We’ll sort it from there.”

I didn’t ask why he’d kicked her out of her house. My guess was he’d learned she was pregnant, because while Treasure State wasn’t a small school, it wasn’t a big school either. And Faye being pregnant with my baby was campus gossip fodder.

“Goddamn it.” Faye buried her face in her hands. Not to cry.

To scream.

The sound was muffled and ragged. It was raw frustration, the scream of a woman who’d had more than her fair share of unlucky breaks.

Dusty might as well have stabbed that knife into my heart.

“There’s an extra room at my place,” I said. “It’s yours.”

I wasn’t going to have the mother of my child sleeping on a couch. Besides that, Dusty smoked. I doubted she went outside of her own home to have a cigarette.

Faye’s hands dropped. “W-what?”

Dusty arched an eyebrow, then went back to cooking.

“After your shift, we’ll go get your stuff.”

“No. I can’t . . . I appreciate the offer, Rush, but⁠—”

“I wasn’t asking, Faye.”

Dusty glanced over her shoulder, giving me a once-over. “I like your boy, sugar.”

Faye pinched the bridge of her nose. “He’s not my boy.”

No, I wasn’t. But the way she said it, so dismissively, didn’t sit right.

Was I really such a horrible option? Compared to fuckwit Justin, I was a goddamn prince.

“Your parents are visiting,” Faye said. “I’ll just spend tonight at Dusty’s and then⁠—”

The swinging door opened, and there were my parents. They didn’t even try to hide the fact that they’d been eavesdropping.

“We’ll help get you moved,” Mom said.

Dad nodded. “I’ve got my truck. We’ll load everything in the back and have you out of there in no time.”

Dusty laughed from the flattop. “Like I said. I like your boy, sugar.”