Page 44 of Biggest Player (Not Yours #2)

Epilogue

Margot

Two months later ... give or take

I couldn’t be more nervous if I tried.

Well.

That’s not true—I could be.

I could have lain in bed last night, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake, conjuring up scenarios in my brain that aren’t going to happen but could.

Such as: I could say something stupid. I could ramble.

I could tell his best friend I think their agent is an asshole who needs to mind his own business.

I could have and I did.

Stomach in knots—the kind of knots you feel when you’re finally meeting your new boyfriend’s best friend And His Girlfriend for the first time. Say it with me : They are normal people! They go grocery shopping just like us! They go on coffee runs Just Like Us!

I mean, let’s be real—since when did I give a fig about football before meeting this man? Answer: I didn’t.

And if I wasn’t nervous enough, the date Dex has planned is giving me anxiety too!

Game night.

At his house.

Competitive much?

As I get out of the car, I spy Dex standing at the door, his large form taking up most of the doorframe as he waits for me to collect my stuff. His smile has my heart racing. He looks so relaxed. So confident. He looks like this is the most natural thing to be doing on a Sunday night.

Maybe for him, it is. But for me? I’m about to walk into a battlefield of board games—and first impressions. Could there be a worse combination?

Ugh.

I drag my sorry ass to his massive front porch and lean up when he goes to kiss me on the lips.

“Hey.” Dex kisses me full on the mouth at the same time he’s pulling me into his arms. “Ready for game night?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I force a smile.

He chuckles, kissing my forehead. “Don’t worry, it’s just for fun. Landon and Harlow are pumped to meet you.”

The knot in my stomach turns, and I put a hand there to quell it as he ushers me into the foyer.

As I walk inside, the sound of laughter and chatter greets my ears, the kind of good-natured laughter that calms me a bit.

I peek through the arched doorway to the living room to see a big dude—not as big as Dex but certainly massive—arranging games on the coffee table. He and Harlow look so comfortable and so at ease, like this is just another Sunday night to them.

Maybe that’s because they live in the Midwest? Aren’t things wholesome there? They do things like game nights and county fairs and fundraisers at the local fire department. Or so I’ve heard.

“Hey, you made it!” Dex’s best friend stands and sets down a black game box, already moving in my direction with his arms out, ready for a hug. “I’m Landon, but my friends call me Andy.”

Dex’s brows raise. “Hey— I call you Landon.”

His buddy laughs and folds me up. Gives me a squeeze. “Exactly.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Dex grumbles unhappily, not at all pleased by his friend’s jokes.

“And this is my better half, Harlow,” Andy announces. “She keeps me honest.”

His girlfriend is not at all what I was picturing, although I couldn’t tell you what that was. Maybe someone blond? Someone glamorous? Who can’t move her face? Sexy?

If I’d done a deep dive of them online, I wouldn’t be as shocked to see that they’re both relatively ... normal. As I was praying they would be.

“Oh my God—finally!” Harlow hops up from the couch, immediately wrapping me in a hug. She squeezes me too. “It’s so good to finally meet you! I’ve heard so much about you ... and some doozy stories, too, but only because sometimes men are idiots.”

I’m assuming she means that bullshit with Trent, but I don’t have the mental bandwidth to question it.

“When did you get into town?” I ask.

“This morning. After we landed, we stopped and got smoothies, then went to the hotel to chill.”

“I said you could stay here,” Dex points out.

Andy laughs. “Nah. It feels more like a vacation when I stay at a hotel. We’re at the Four Seasons—are you going to pamper me like they will?”

“I will if you pay me,” Dex volleys back.

We all share a laugh, Harlow dragging me toward the couch, a bottle of wine and glasses on the coffee table already, waiting for the fun to begin.

“We were just debating what to start with—Cards Against Humanity or Scattergories,” she explains. “Or Pictionary? Dex doesn’t have a huge selection.”

Oh God. My worst nightmares, all on the table.

Shit. I can feel my palms begin to sweat.

It’s one thing to have dinner and try to make a good impression over a meal, but game night?

There’s a chance I’ll be exposing my deepest, darkest flaws—like how I can become overly competitive when Monopoly is on the table because I hate losing money to other players or the bank.

Or how I’m hopeless at Pictionary because I can’t draw to save my life, not even a stick figure.

What if I embarrass myself?

What if we play Cards Against Humanity and I’m forced to look like a pervert because of an embarrassing sentence? If you know anything about that game, it’s literally the worst. I want them to like me, not think I’m a jerk.

Margot, chill.

Channeling Wyatt’s infinite wisdom, I blink back at three very excited, enthusiastic faces.

They’re watching me expectantly, and I sit up straighter, putting on my brave face.

I teach kids, for crying out loud—they are the toughest crowd I’ve ever met!

Harlow and Andy already like me from what they’ve heard about me from Dex; they’ve said as much.

This is supposed to be fun, yeah? Just a casual night in, getting to know Dex’s best friend and his girlfriend, who have been harassing him for an introduction for weeks and flew here specifically to meet me. At least, that’s what we’ve been told.

Hey. No pressure, right?

No big deal.

Except it is a big deal. This is my chance to show them I’m not just some random woman Dex is seeing.

I’m someone he’s serious about. And I want them to like me for both our sakes.

I know how influential other men are in Dex’s life because his parents aren’t a part of it, so for Andy to give him his stamp of approval means the world to me.

It is what it is.

Harlow hands me a glass of wine. It’s still cold, the glass chilly in my hands, and I quickly take a sip, hoping it will ease my nerves.

She is so nice!

I can tell we’ll get along, hope fluttering in my soul, filling me up. I’m going to need allies once the season is in full swing, won’t I? Being the girlfriend of a famous football player cannot be for the faint of heart, from what I’ve seen through extensive online research.

“So what game should we play?” With the tip of his toe, Andy gives the black Cards Against Humanity box a tiny nudge. Shoves it to the center of the table, a beggar’s expression on his face.

“Oh no. No you don’t.” Harlow laughs. Picks up her glass of wine but then immediately sets it back on the table without taking a drink.

Hmm. “Forget it, buddy. The last time we played this game, you caused such a stink they kicked us out of the sports bar we were hanging out at for getting rowdy.” She and I share a look. “Landon has zero chill.”

“I can relate to not having any chill,” I say, sipping from my glass, doing my best not to chug it. “My daughter tells me to chill nonstop.”

We’re all seated around the couches, Andy and Harlow on one sofa, Dex and I on the other, facing each other.

“That’s right, Dex keeps mentioning your daughter. He said she’s hysterical. I wish I would have been able to meet her tonight, but maybe next time?” Harlow beams at me. So friendly. “I love kids.”

Is it my imagination, or did Andy nudge her with his knee when she made that proclamation?

Huh.

I peel my eyes away and force them back onto the table, where the boxes sit, waiting for us to decide which one we’re going to open.

“Can we please, please play Cards Against Humanity? Dude, I’m begging,” Andy quite literally begs. “Please, dude? It’s so fun, and I’m so good at it.”

In the end, he wins—probably because of his extensive use of the word dude —and we commence the word game, my face getting redder and hotter with every turn. With every card that gets placed. With every politically incorrect or pervy phrase.

Then.

Andy lays a black card in the center of the table that says: It’s here. It’s finally happening, I’m finally doing it. It’s time for _________.

“Harlow—your turn,” he tells his girlfriend.

She seems to stew over her options, nibbling on her bottom lip, holding the ten cards in her hands close.

“Hmm.” She hems and haws. Removes one card from her hand and goes to place it on the table. Hesitates. Adds it back to her collection and hems and haws again. “Ah.”

“I’m finally doing it. It’s time for—” Harlow reads Andy’s card out loud at the same time she lays down a white response card.

Making Babies .

For a split second, Dex goes about the game on autopilot, flipping through his cards to choose his next move, eyes roaming from Andy’s card to his own. The humming sound emanating from his chest tells me one thing: he isn’t getting the hint.

“Making babies,” I repeat quietly.

I don’t know Andy or Harlow all that well, but now they’re holding hands, and all I can do is give Dex a tap, hoping he’ll notice so I don’t have to spell it out for him.

“Wait,” my boyfriend finally says. “They have a card that says making babies? Since when?”

Honestly, I’m trying not to roll my eyes. I love him dearly, but occasionally he is too clueless, even for me.

“Since you can order custom cards.”

“You can?” Dex scratches his head. Pauses.

Stares down at the table, the meaning of those two cards clicking into place at long last.

“Wait,” he says again, gaze jerking to Andy’s. “Are you guys preg nant?”

Harlow and Andy both nod.

“Holy shit! No way!” He stands, grabbing his friend and enveloping him in a hug at the same time I stand so I can hug them too. “This is fucking amazing. Holy shit, I’m going to be a funcle.” They clap each other on the back, doing that bro thing. “A fun fucking uncle, get it?”

“Yeah, I get it.” His best friend laughs.

“We should seriously celebrate, not sit home playing board games,” Dex goes on, practically vibrating with excitement.

“No, man, this is exactly how we wanted to celebrate. It doesn’t need to be a spectacle. We’re trying to keep it as private as we can for as long as we can,” Andy explains, his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “Especially since we’re not engaged or anything.”

She has her hand on her stomach now. “The only people who know are my dad and his parents. We’re just now starting to tell our close friends.”

“How far along are you?” I ask, over the moon for this couple that’s going to be part of my life, honored to be counted as among their close friends.

“Four months—sixteen or so weeks. I feel like we found out yesterday, but it’s actually been a bit.”

“Is this the real reason you came into town?” Dex wants to know, a big goofy grin on his face.

It’s contagious—we’re all grinning from ear to ear—and I swear, my insides are melting, all my nerves completely gone as we get swept up in Harlow and Landon’s joy.

A baby.

Could there be anything more exciting?

As Dex slides his arm around my waist, I feel him squeezing it, his body leaning into me. “You know what I think?”

“No, what do you think?”

“I think it would be sexy as hell to have a baby with you.”

I look up at him, startled. He’s recently come around to the idea of kids and not waiting, but it still surprises me that he’d bring it up now—and in front of his friends.

I swallow, gulping down my hormones. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. I say we start practicing tonight.”

I roll my eyes, mindful that his friends are watching. “You’re always practicing.”

“But maybe this time we practice for real.”

I lean back so I can look him in the eyes. “Okay, Mister Raging Hormones, you calm down.”

But my hormones are raging too.

I am so desperately in love with this guy. This giant man-child who loves everything about me, most of all being part of my little family. My daughter, who counts him as one of her best friends.

He kisses me then, full on the lips, for Andy and Harlow to see, dipping me the same way you see two lovers dipping in the movies.

Dex Lansing has turned from one of the biggest players to one of the biggest softies— and I cannot wait to see what happens next .