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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ROWAN

T he clay is soft and pliable in my hands as I press my foot down on the peddle. The wheel begins to spin and I slide my hands down to the base of the ball of clay, cupping it with my palms as I start to shape the vase.

It’s still early in the morning, much earlier than I normally wake up, but I couldn’t fall back asleep after Lucy woke up. I’ve been keeping her in my room in the bassinet, but every time she wakes up, it’s like an alarm clock to Hadley.

She’s been here for a little over two weeks now and each time I find her standing in my doorway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before we rock, paper, scissors on who gets to go back to sleep. When Lucy woke up around six, I didn’t even bother challenging Hadley. Instead, I told her to go back to bed and that I’d handle the baby.

Lucy thankfully only stayed awake long enough to eat before she drifted back asleep. She’s been waking up closer to nine in the morning before she has her longer periods of staying awake, so as soon as she fell back asleep, I decided to slip out into my shed.

With everything that’s been going on lately, I haven’t been in here in a while and I just need it. It’s my outlet. My own little hobby that’s reserved just for me. It’s somewhere I can go and be productive and constructive, yet I’m able to let my mind just go blank and be clear. I have all the creative freedom when it comes to throwing and molding clay.

After finishing the outside shape, I move my hands to the top and begin to slide my fingers into the clay to form a hollow area inside. I glance at the baby monitor, noting that Lucy is still in the exact same spot she was in when I laid her down an hour ago. Relief washes over me and I focus on the sound of the music playing through my AirPods as I begin to finish sculpting the vase.

Vases are my favorite to make, but, honestly, I just let my brain decide what I’m creating after the process starts. Only when I sculpt without the wheel do I like to have some kind of a plan for what I’m doing.

I’m alone in the zone with no concept of time as I finish up the vase and let my foot off the pedal. I’m careful and deliberately slow as I move it off the wheel, rising to my feet to take it to the small kiln tucked in the corner of the shed.

As I turn around, the air leaves my lungs in a rush as I’m startled by the sight of her. Hadley doesn’t notice me at first and I take the moment to watch her as she inspects a shelf of different vases and mugs. Her auburn hair is pulled back in a French braid, the end of it landing in the center of her back. Hairs fly free from the braid and I smile, realizing she must have just woken up and came out here.

She slides her hands into the front pocket of her oversized hoodie as she leans forward to look at one closer. Her fuzzy, cloud-covered pajama bottoms almost drag on the floor, but she has them tucked in her boots. Her outfit is a sight to behold, but goddamn, she’s a sight I don’t know I’ll ever grow tired of indulging in.

The clay is starting to dry on my hands and I balance the vase in one hand as I wipe my fingers on my pants before plucking an AirPod from my ear. The music abruptly stops.

“Hey, outlaw. Are you planning on stealing one of those too?”

Hadley freezes, but she doesn’t stand up fully. Instead, she grabs one of the mugs from the shelf and slowly turns around as her eyes meet mine. “Maybe,” she smiles a devious grin. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Well,” I start, letting out a soft laugh as I walk over to the kiln and lower the vase inside. “Considering I’ve been an accomplice in your most recent illegal activities, I suppose nothing.”

“I guess you aren’t the good boy you’ve made everyone think you are, huh?”

Warmth builds in the pit of my stomach and I ignore the rush of blood that goes straight to my cock as those words tumble from her lips. I close the distance between us, taking the mug from her as I go to set it back on the shelf. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I don’t know what I think of you,” she admits, her voice soft, yet hoarse and laced with something that resembles lust. I’m aware of how close she is to me as I slowly turn back around. My nostrils spread and I smell the faint scent of vanilla and berries.

My gaze drops down to her mouth and then back up to her eyes, my own lips parting in response, but I’m cut off before I get the chance to say anything. The sound of a soft cry comes through the monitor speaker, meaning Lucy woke up a little earlier than I planned. “Shit.”

Hadley lets out a shallow breath, almost as if she were holding it. “Stay. I’ll get her,” she offers, her chin tipping as her expression becomes unreadable. She forces a smile onto her lips, but it’s tight and almost appears conflicted.

“Let me clean up out here and I’ll come in and make breakfast.”

The tightness of her smile dissipates and now it’s genuine, lighting up her soft hazel eyes. “Deal.”

After I finish in the shed and get washed up, I find Hadley walking around the house, bopping Lucy up and down as she pats her back. I watch her for a moment, admiring the ease of her movements as Hadley burps her like a fucking pro. I’m still getting the hang of things, but I think Hadley might have the magical touch when it comes to Lucy.

“I’m convinced you’re a sorcerer of some sort.”

Hadley smirks. “I prefer sorceress.”

“You’re a baby whisperer.”

She laughs softly, adjusting Lucy in her arms so her back is against Hadley’s chest. “It’s an art, really.”

I drink in the sight of her, my eyes tracing the constellations of freckles across the tops of her cheeks. “Yes, it is.” I allow myself another lingering gaze before I finally pull my attention away from her and head over to the fridge. I get everything out to make eggs and set it down on the counter. “I wanted to go over schedule stuff with you then, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” Hadley says with simplicity as she walks around the room with Lucy. “Can I do anything to help you with breakfast?”

Shaking my head, I glance over at her as I start to crack the eggs into a bowl. “Nope. I got all of this handled.”

Hadley doesn’t argue. She stays in the kitchen for a little before disappearing with the baby. When she returns, she has Lucy in one arm and the mat for her to go on the floor in the other. Lucy kicks her feet around, making cooing sounds as soon as she sees me.

I’m not sure how much she really understands the world around her or how good her vision is yet, but she seems to know who I am. And something about that revelation makes my heart feel like it’s melting inside my chest.

I finish making breakfast and pile it onto a plate before setting it down at the table where Hadley’s sitting. She has Lucy on the floor playing with some of the toys as she tries to do tummy time. So far, she seems to hate that position, but Hadley has been very insistent on the fact that tummy time is super important.

“This looks amazing, thank you,” Hadley smiles up at me as she lifts her fork to take a bite. I set my own plate down, but abandon it as I walk over to the fridge and grab a calendar from the side of it. Stopping by the one drawer, I pull it open and pluck out the small velvet box I picked up yesterday. I take the box and the calendar to the table, setting it down as I tuck the ring into the front pocket of my sweatpants.

I flip open the calendar to this month and grab a pen as I begin to write things down. We’ve fallen into a bit of a routine with the way my game schedule and practices go, but things are about to get a little more intense as we get closer to playoffs.

We’ve been fortunate enough that we had two weeks straight of home games followed by a few away games that didn’t require us to fly, so I’ve been able to be home more lately.

“We’re leaving next Wednesday morning,” I explain to her, writing all the dates down on the calendar. Today is Friday, so we have a home game tomorrow and Tuesday, and then we leave the next day. “We only have three games, but each one is in a different city and with the way they’re spaced out, I won’t be back home until the following Wednesday night.”

Hadley chews a bite of her eggs before washing it down with water. “Okay, what comes after that? ”

I slide the calendar over to her for her to see. The next few weeks are going to be a little crazy, but thankfully we have almost two full weeks off because of the All-Stars competition, the game and then a world competition that has enlisted quite a few players from the league.

“Okay, this is perfect,” Hadley says as she bobs her head up and down and looks up at me after looking at the calendar. “Look at that nice little stretch of away games where Lucy and I will have the house to ourselves.”

I catch the mischievous look on her face and shake my head at her. “Yeah, but what about those two weeks that we have no games? We’ll still have things to do, but you’ll be stuck with me here.”

“I think we’ll manage,” she tells me with her eyes glimmering as she finishes her breakfast. “Did you find out when your mother is going to be coming?”

Ironically, she texted me this morning to give me her flight information. “She’s flying in tomorrow morning so she can be here for the game tomorrow night and then she’ll be heading home on Monday.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Wait, like, tomorrow, tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I tell her, chuckling softly. “It will be fine. You know my mom, you know she likes you.”

“Yeah, but that was before she knew I was engaged to her son...and not the one I used to date.” She gives me a look that I can’t quite discern. She lets out a breath, slowly rising to her feet. “I should probably clean and stock the fridge before she gets in. ”

She begins to move around the table, her legs moving to walk past me, when I instinctively reach out for her. My hand wraps around her delicate wrist, gaining her attention as she comes to a halt. My grip isn’t tight, but I don’t let her go as I shove my other hand into my pocket, pulling out that velvet box.

“Here,” I tell her, my voice gruff as I slip it into her palm and curl her fingers around it. “I picked it up yesterday and figured you might want it before my mom gets here.”

Her gaze drops to mine, her eyes distant as she stares at me. “Thanks,” she says quickly, ducking her chin as I release her. It’s almost as if we both forget about the fake engagement until it’s right in our faces. I know this isn’t what Hadley wants—and if I’m being honest, it’s not what I want either.

I’m encapsulated by a blanket of guilt and regret. My lips part as she walks across the kitchen, but words fail me entirely.

What the fuck can I really even say anymore?