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I shut the office door behind me. “All right, let’s go! Suit up! We’ve been running new patterns all week. It’s time to put them to work. Hoosier, you’re in for O’Reilly.”
After the game, I’m not surprised to find the commissioner leaning against the wall outside the locker room.
I pass him without so much as a glance in his direction. “You might as well leave. He’s not here.”
Unfortunately, that prompts him to follow me. “Where is he?”
“Don’t know.” I wouldn’t tell him if I did.
“You’re his coach. How do you not know?”
His snide tone gets on my last fucking nerve.
“You’re his father. How do you not know? And this isn’t high school. I won’t be held responsible for your son.”
I’m not one to interfere in my players’ personal lives, but I refuse to stand by and let this egotistical prick destroy Jackson.
Kyle stops and faces me. He’s much older, maybe in his late fifties or early sixties, at most six feet tall and overweight. I’d wipe the floor with him, yet he appraises at me as if I’m nothing more than dirt under his shiny Italian loafers.
“You know I own this city, right?” He spreads his arms wide. “I own this arena. I own this team.” He steps closer and stabs a finger in my chest. “Which means I own your ass.”
I hold his stare, not giving him the satisfaction of intimidating me. “Get your hands off me and take a hint. Leave Jackson alone. He’s much better off without you.”
A fake fucking smile creeps across his plastic face. “Enjoy your last season.” He raises his chin and walks away.
Ten years ago, I’d have knocked this pompous asshole out. How has Jackson not killed him already?
SEVENTEEN
JACKSON
“We’re getting the ultrasound.”I cross my arms over my chest, staring down at Aurora. “I’ll sit here all night until we do.”
She’s trying to convince me to leave the emergency room without the recommended procedure. It’s not happening.
The same caramel eyes I’ve dreamed of for months gaze up at me. “Jackson, I had an ultrasound today. Everything was fine. I had a panic attack and felt faint. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong with the baby.”
Her voice is filled with more patience than I’ll ever have, even when she’s irritated with me.
“You fainted, not merely felt faint. There’s a distinction. And I don’t think you’refine. The nurse said your blood pressure is high. We’re getting the ultrasound. The doctor recommended it, and I’ll cover the expenses.”
I want this baby to be mine as much as I want my next breath—which, right now, with Aurora, is whole hell of a lot. I realize it’s unlikely. She’s barely showing, and we haven’t been together in five months, but the thought is stuck in my head.
If the baby is mine, Aurora intended to hide it from me, which is understandable, considering how I treated her during our relationship.
Who wants a kid with an addict? Among other things. Like my father.
Yeah, I’d hide a pregnancy too if I were her.
Her brows furrow. “Please stop pacing.” There’s that gentle tone again, the only one ever able to calm me.
I sit in the chair beside her bed and gather my courage. “Tell me the baby is mine.”Lie to me.Please lie to me.
A sympathetic frown adorns her beautiful face. “Jax, you know it’s not.” Fear trembles in her voice, and her hand moves to her belly. “We haven’t been together in months.”
Her protective gesture irritates me and provokes doubts about her honesty.
My knee bounces, and I crack my knuckles. “What if I got a paternity test?”