Page 46

Chapter forty-five

Hudson

20 weeks

“No way, dude, that’s mine. Quinn said so.” I glare at Jay, who’s trying to peel off a corner of my heart-printed washi tape.

“I just need a piece,” Jay says, holding his hands up like he’s innocent, except he’s absolutely not. The tape is still very much hostage in his grip. “Just one bit.”

“You don’t need a piece. Use your own. That one’s mine.” I reach across the table to grab it.

“Quinn!” Jay yells, holding the tape just out of my reach.

Quinn sighs from her spot at the end of the table, where she’s surrounded by an explosion of pastel cardstock and glitter glue. “What now?”

“Tell Jay to give me my tape back,” I whine, pointing at him like we’re five. “You said it was mine.”

Quinn doesn’t even glance up as she continues carefully cutting a frame for her page. “Jay, stop stealing Hudson’s tape. He’s weird about it. You know this.”

“Thank you,” I say smugly, then snatch the tape from Jay’s hand and tuck it protectively into my supplies.

Jay rolls his eyes. “You’re way too attached to craft supplies, man.”

“Crafting is serious business,” I reply, ripping off a piece of tape with my teeth. “You all just don’t appreciate my creativity.” This particular scrapbook is extra special, and I can’t have it without my heart washi tape.

“Hudson whining about tape,” Seb mutters from across the room, where he’s flipping through a stack of stickers. “Does anyone else remember when he was quiet that one time and couldn’t create a damn thing?”

“It was peaceful,” Miles chimes in, balancing precariously on the back legs of his chair while holding a mug of coffee. “He hardly spoke.”

“Peaceful?” Indie snorts from her spot in the corner, where she’s meticulously stamping a title onto her scrapbook page. “Quiet Hudson is a red flag. It’s like when the music stops in a horror movie.”

“Ah, but that was pre-Daphne. She’s brought back his…enthusiastic side,” Jay adds, and I scowl at all of them.

“Sometimes I think you all don’t like me,” I grumble.

“ I like you.” A voice that I recognize comes from the doorway, and when I look up, I see her. My girl and my baby.

“That’s good.” I grin as she walks over and sits right next to me. “Because you’re kinda stuck with me.” She leans in, pressing a peck to my cheek like it’s the most natural thing in the world and I love it.

Miles laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Hey Daph,” he says before adding, “We love you, Huds. Even when you made us sit in total silence after the CFP semi.”

Seb smirks, jumping in. “We were all mourning that loss. I get it, dude.”

It was a tough loss and one that stung because it was the last time I got to play with Seb. Next year, there’ll be a new captain appointed, and I already don’t like that.

Jay hums in agreement. “Except Seb here was already smiling the next day. Signing with an agent will do that, huh?”

“What can I say?” Seb shrugs, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not like the scouts forgot how to watch film because we didn’t make it to the final. I’m still good.”

“Good?” Miles scoffs. “You’ve got half the league calling your name. What’s that agent of yours saying now?”

Seb grins, clearly enjoying the attention. “That I better start getting used to interviews. Draft’s still a couple months out, but they’re lining up already.”

“Okay, as awesome as my brother is…” Quinn smiles, turning to my girl. “How are you feeling, Daphne?”

She rubs her small bump. “Pretty good. Hungry a lot of the time, but so is Hudson, so it works out well for us.”

“You’re in the second trimester now, right?”

“Almost twenty weeks now,” she says.

Quinn’s face lights up. “It’s going by so fast. You’re halfway there.”

“Quinn has been obsessing over the baby shower. Her and Liv are a force to be reckoned with,” Miles laughs.

Quinn waves him off. “Listen, it’s going to be epic. Speaking of”—she leans forward—“I was thinking, baby shower during the day, then we roll into a birthday dinner for Hudson that night. It’s his birthday a few days later anyway.”

Seb laughs. “Double cake, that’s like Hudson’s dream scenario.”

I grin, draping an arm over Daphne’s shoulders. “Double cake and my girlfriend? Fuck yes.”

Daphne smiles up at me. “I love that idea.”

Quinn claps in delight, and the gang continues their scrapbooking and chatting. Daphne opens her book to start working on it, pulling out a few polaroids from New Years we spent together.

“You’ve got training today, right?” Daphne asks, eyes flicking over the photos.

I nod. “Yeah, no rest for the wicked, even in the off season.”

My thumb grazes over a particular picture, one of us kissing. I don’t remember who took it, but the way my hand is cradling her face, the way she’s leaning into me, I need it for my scrapbook. “Can I have this one?”

She glances at the photo, and her lips curve. “Only if you trade me for one of us last week.”

I smirk. “Deal.” I slide her the photo she wants, and she tapes it down immediately. Her fingers smooth over the page as she turns to me. “So, I think my dad will want to talk to you today. He texted me this morning, checking you were going to be at training.”

My eyes lift to hers, nerves zipping through me. “Yeah?”

“I think he wants to check in. Probably apologize, finally.”

I nod. “I want to talk to him.” Truth is, I’ve been waiting for that conversation since Christmas, expecting something to ping on my phone from him, for him to ask me to meet him, but it never came. We’ve been on break sure, and post season training only starts this week, but it feels like the same quiet distance is between us. I’ve been hoping he’ll see how serious I am, how much I care about Daphne, the baby. The fact that nothing’s changed in these few weeks has left me more frustrated than I’ll admit.

Something flickers in Daphne’s expression, annoyance, maybe disappointment, and I quickly brush my finger under her chin. “He’s not going to scare me off, you know.”

Her shoulders ease slightly. “I know,” she says. “I just want everything to be okay.”

“It will be,” I reassure her. And I meant it. If she’s good with her dad, that’s what matters most. Even if my own nerves twist quietly beneath the surface, I can handle it. As long as she’s happy too.

***

Coach’s voice cuts through again. “Let’s go! Line up for conditioning drills!”

We’re back at it, running plays and running out of breath, until every muscle in my body feels like it’s about to give out. It’s been a usual practice, nothing happened when I was called first for drills, and I can admit that I deflated a little.

When Coach finally calls it, I drop onto the grass and stare up at the sky, trying to catch my breath.

“Hudson,” Coach says, standing over me. His tone is quieter now, which immediately gets my attention.

“Yeah, Coach?” I sit up, looking at him trying to read his face but it’s his usual cool mask he wears.

Then I notice it. Subtle but it’s there. He shifts his weight like he’s working up to something. “Can I talk to you for a second? Walk with me.”

I grab my stuff and follow him off the field, feeling a little uneasy. I meant what I said to Daphne earlier I’m not bailing, but still, he’s my Coach and her dad.

His mouth opens and closes in quick succession, as though he’s trying to figure out where to start. “I know I didn’t exactly handle things well when I first found out about you and Daphne. My reaction…it wasn’t fair.”

I glance at him. “Coach—”

He cuts me off. “You’re stepping up, Hudson. I can see how hard you’re working for her, for the baby. Daphne tells Serena pretty much everything, and I can tell you care about my daughter.”

“I’ve got her,” I say, resolute.

“I know,” he says without hesitation, and it makes me feel ten feet tall. “And you had one hell of a season too. Nothing fazed you. You put in the work where it counts, and I respect that.”

My chest tightens. “Thanks, Coach.”

His eyes narrow, but not in a harsh way. “I hear you’re running deliveries too?”

“Yes, sir. I needed to make sure I could provide for them both. I’m going to draft next year and I hope that I’ll get signed,” I take a second to pray to the football gods, “that will hopefully ease things for us, but until then I’ll work during summer to make sure we’re covered.”

“I know you will,” he says with an assurance I appreciate. “Listen, I owe you an apology, Hudson. I haven’t handled any of this how I should have. I reacted in fear and if I’m honest, disappointment—not because of you or her, but because I had this vision for my daughter that didn’t involve her struggling or worrying about anything.” He pauses, light eyes focused on me. “But you’ve stepped up in ways I didn’t give you enough credit for. I should’ve been there guiding you, supporting you.” He extends his hand for me to take, and I do. “I want you to know that you have my full support from here on out. You’re a good man, Daphne and my grandchild are lucky to have you.””

I smile genuinely at him. His words resonate deeply with me, some kind of respect I’d never gotten from my own dad, it smooths over insecurities I’ve carried silently for months. I grip his hand firmly, gratitude and relief rushing through me. Knowing he believes in me, makes everything feel more possible. “That means a lot.”

He nods, releasing my hand and we continue walking. “I’ve been thinking…if you need some help getting a place together, something more stable, I’d like to help. Both me and Serena would like to help. You’ve got enough on your plate so where we can, we want to help you out.”

I stop walking, staring at him. “You’d do that? For us?”

Coach stops too, looking me straight in the eyes. “Yeah, I would. Because I can see how much you care about her, about the future you’re building. That’s worth supporting.”

Heat prickles behind my eyes but I blink it away. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Keep working hard, on and off the field. You’ve got something good here, Hudson. Don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t,” I promise. In fact, that promise isn’t just for him, it’s for me, Daphne, and the baby, because I’m going to make sure the next season, my last, will be my best.