Chapter 9
“Rush.” Maverick smacked me on the arm.
I tore my attention from my phone and the text I’d been attempting to type all morning. “What?”
“You didn’t hear a thing I said, did you?”
“You said something? When?”
He rolled his eyes as he rounded the kitchen’s bar and took the stool beside mine. He slid my plate and the breakfast burrito that was most definitely cold by now out of the way. Then he sat sideways, one arm braced on the granite as he looked between me and my phone.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shot him a frown.
“You’re the worst liar.” He scoffed. “Talk to me, man. You’ve been off since that night last week. What is it? A girl? You’re not back together with Halsey, right?”
I set my phone face down on the counter as he leaned in closer to look at the screen. “Do you mind?”
“It is her, isn’t it? You know I can’t stand her but if you’re with her again, it’s just whatever. But don’t hide it from me.”
“I’m not—” I shook my head. “It’s not Halsey.”
“Thank fuck.” He blew out a long breath. “Then what’s up? Is something wrong with your parents?”
“Nah, they’re fine.”
“Okay,” he drawled, stretching out the last syllable like I’d pick it up and tell him everything that was going on.
I stayed quiet.
With the exception of Coach Ellis, I hadn’t told anyone about Faye. Instead, I’d spent the past week trying to wrap my own mind around everything rather than bring others into the mix.
Faye and I had texted a few times since we’d met on campus last week. She’d made an appointment with a doctor and had sent me the details. I’d asked if she was feeling all right to which she’d replied I’m fine.
She wasn’t fine, not if she still looked like she had last week. Pale. Splotchy. On the verge of tears.
For the past ten minutes, I’d been trying to figure out how to invite her out for dinner. To talk, not a date. Except everything I typed sounded shallow or forced or like I was asking her out on a date.
I’d type. Delete. Type. Delete.
Faye wanted to keep the baby. Did that mean she was okay with me being involved? Because I was going to be involved. She knew that, right?
Fuck, I hated texting. We needed to have a real, honest conversation, face-to-face, which was going to be damn hard to arrange if I couldn’t even figure out how to invite her out for a cheeseburger. Did she eat cheeseburgers?
I probably should have said more on that bench. Asked more questions. But there were too many emotions swirling, and they’d rendered me useless. The tighter I locked them up inside, the harder they fought to escape.
“Rush, talk to me. I’m worried.” There was a softness in his voice I hadn’t heard before.
Maverick was crass and direct. What came to his mind usually came out of his mouth. But he was my best friend in the entire world.
Maybe I should tell him the truth.
For all his bluntness, he was one of the most logical people I’d ever met. He was an economics major and in our years at Treasure State, I’d realized he barely had to study. Mav always said it was because economics was basically common sense. That, and he was too smart for his own good.
I sighed, rubbing a hand over my stubbled jaw. I hadn’t bothered shaving for a couple days and the coarse hair scraped against my palm. “I need to tell you something.”
“No shit,” Maverick muttered.
I inhaled, holding it in my lungs until they burned. Then on my exhale, I set the truth free. “I got a girl pregnant.”
Oh, fuck that sounded bad. Cheap and sleezy. I was definitely going to need to refine that a bit. Except I couldn’t say “Faye’s pregnant” because no one knew about Faye.
Mav’s jaw was on the floor when I looked over, his eyebrows so high they nearly kissed his hairline. “Say that again.”
I gulped. “I’m having a kid.”
Better. That didn’t sound as dodgy, but it still wasn’t a great way to break the news. Now I sounded cold and detached.
Before I told my parents—an idea that made my insides roil—I’d have to find a softer, warmer way to drop this bomb. Tomorrow’s problem.
“With Halsey.” Mav’s mouth closed with a click before his lip curled. “I fucking knew she’d trap you. I told you to be careful with her. After all that shit that went down freshman year, I warned you not to trust her. Look what she did to me.”
“Whoa.” I held up a hand. Okay, so maybe Maverick wasn’t going to be the logical one here. “It’s not Halsey.”
Those eyebrows shot sky-high again. “It’s not?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Remember that night we went to Legends?”
Maverick snapped his fingers. “The redhead.”
“Faye.” He might as well know her name.
“Dude.” He blew out a long breath, shaking his head. “Holy fuck.”
“Basically,” I mumbled.
“You okay?”
I shrugged.
“Of course you’re not okay.” He slid off his stool, pacing the length of the bar. “That’s why you didn’t come home that night last week.”
“Yeah. That was the night I found out.”
“Were you with her?”
“No. I, uh, needed to be alone for a while.”
“Damn, Rush. What can I do?”
“I don’t know.” I picked up my phone, unlocking the screen. My text thread with Faye appeared and the empty text box seemed to jump off the glass, flashing in my face like a strobe light.
What did I say? Why was this so hard?
If I gave my phone to Maverick, could he think of something to text? What if I asked him for a plan? Let him sort this out.
“What are you guys going to do?” he asked.
“She wants to keep the baby.”
He nodded, still pacing with his hands on his hips. “All right. You good with that?”
“Yes.” After the story Faye had told me about her own mother? Absolutely, yes. I would never ask her to have an abortion.
“Okay.” He clapped me on the shoulder, squeezing for a second before he walked back into the kitchen.
Maverick’s older sister, Mabel, had gotten pregnant in high school, and while it had thrown their family for a loop, he loved being an uncle. He’d witnessed his sister’s struggles but knew each had been well worth it.
His nephew was the center of the Houston family’s universe.
And the guy who’d walked away from that kid, from Mabel, was the person who’d missed out. Maverick hadn’t even told me the guy’s name because it had been all but banned in his family.
“You got this.” He stopped on the opposite side of the bar and braced his arms on the speckled, granite countertop. “It won’t be easy, but you got this.”
“Thanks,” I breathed, not realizing just how much I’d needed someone to tell me I could do this.
“When is the paternity test? Or did you already take it?”
“Uh, no.”
He narrowed his gaze. “But you’re going to get one, right?”
“Hadn’t planned on it.”
If those eyebrows weren’t attached to his forehead, they might have flown away. “Are you serious right now?”
“She’s not lying, Mav.”
“Oh my God.” He raked both hands through his hair. When they dropped, he pointed a finger at my nose. “You’re getting a paternity test.”
“Mav—”
“No, Rush. You’re doing it.”
Were there women who’d purposefully get pregnant to manipulate a man? Sure. I imagined it happened with pro athletes and celebrities. Definitely in fiction.
My mom loved daytime soap operas, and she always made sure to schedule a break in their chores at the ranch so she could catch The Young and the Restless. She’d summarized more than one “accidental” pregnancy whenever I asked her what was happening on her soaps.
But this really had been an accident.
I could see why Mav would be skeptical. He didn’t know Faye. Granted, I didn’t really know her either, but she wouldn’t do this on purpose. And she had to know this baby was mine, otherwise she never would have texted me.
“I don’t need to do a test,” I told him. “I believe her. And I didn’t use a condom.”
He blinked. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Okay. No condom. Not a smart move. But what if she’s wrong? What if you weren’t the only guy she hooked up with around that time?”
A sour taste spread across my mouth. Definitely didn’t like the idea of Faye with another guy. “I’m telling you, Mav. She’s not lying.”
“Rush.” Maverick held up a hand. “Listen. Please. I’m begging you. This is your life we’re talking about here. This girl is a stranger, right? Or have you been dating her on the sly all this time?”
“No.”
“Then she’s a stranger.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. Definitely didn’t like classifying her as a stranger either. But he wasn’t wrong.
“Maybe she’s not lying, but what if she’s . . . mistaken? A kid will change everything. You have got to be sure. You know some of these girls. And I know you like to give people the benefit of the doubt. You’re not as cynical as I am. If you want to believe her, great. Trust, but verify.”
Damn it. That wasn’t bad advice.
Still didn’t like it, but it wasn’t bad advice.
“She’s not a jersey chaser. When I met her this summer, she had no idea who I was.”
Maverick laughed. “What?”
“She’s not into football.”
“But she goes to school here.”
“Yes,” I drawled.
Maverick’s groan was so loud it would have lured Erik out of his room, if Erik ever slept in his room. “You’re actually killing me. You are Rush Ramsey.”
“Really? I had no idea,” I deadpanned.
His look flattened. “Your face and name are on a giant sign outside the student union building. They’re also on a billboard off Sixth Avenue, right across from the grocery store.”
I hated that billboard. I’d started taking a different route to the store just so I wouldn’t have to see my own face on that damn sign.
“Even people who don’t go to Treasure State know about Rush Ramsey,” he said. “You were on a commercial this spring, for fuck’s sake.”
Four of us had been asked to film an ad for a swanky golf course in town. It had been easy money plus a chance to get on a course that was typically for country club members only.
“Maybe she doesn’t watch TV. Or pay attention to billboards. She had no idea who I was, okay? Trust me on that.”
I’d searched her face for even the slightest hint of recognition. There hadn’t been a flicker.
Faye had no clue who I was, and that was part of the appeal.
“Fine.” Maverick tossed up his hands. “We’ll pretend that she’s really that oblivious and didn’t know that she was going home with the Wildcats star quarterback and a guy who’s got a shot at being drafted into the NFL. We’ll suspend reality. But you still need to take a paternity test. Make sure this baby is actually yours.”
“I’m not—”
“If it was me, if I was in your place, what would you say?”
Well, fuck. If this was Mav or Erik or any other of my friends, I’d tell them to get the test.
He wasn’t wrong, was he? Trust, but verify.
Faye had mentioned a boyfriend while we’d been camping. Maybe she hadn’t broken it off as quickly as I’d called it quits with Halsey.
“Gah,” I growled. “Fine.”
“Thank fuck.” The air rushed from Maverick’s lungs. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it might be worth asking around the team. See if she’s been with any of the other guys.”
“The fuck? Why?”
“You, of all people, know that some of the girls move from player to player.”
My jaw clenched.
“Or not.” He held up a hand. “It was only a suggestion. But shit will get weird if she’s been with another guy on the team.”
“She hasn’t.” I shot him a glare.
Okay, I didn’t exactly know that she hadn’t hooked up with another player. But that uncomfortable twinge came roaring back, the same one I’d had a moment ago thinking of Faye with another man, and I didn’t have the headspace for it.
What if she had been with another player? What if I found out in the locker room?
I’d had enough surprises. Maybe it was time for some information.
I picked up my phone, opening up my text thread with Faye, and for the first time knew exactly what to type.
Can you meet me at the fieldhouse in an hour? I need to talk to you about something.
I didn’t wait for her reply. I slid off my stool and disappeared upstairs to my bedroom where I took a long, hot shower. Then I stood at the sink and shaved, staring at my reflection for a few long moments.
My body was clean. My hair was shampooed. My face fresh and ready for practice.
So why did I feel so slimy?