Page 51

Chapter fifty

Hudson

The living room at Benny’s house feels like it might burst at the seams. Every couch, chair, and spare inch of carpet is packed with people, our teammates. Nervous energy crackles in the air, and the TV glows brighter than it should in the dim light. Pizza boxes and crumpled soda cans clutter the table, but no one’s touching them. All eyes are locked on the screen.

I’m on the couch, Daphne pressed against me, her hand tucked under her belly protectively. My hand rests on her knee, but it’s not for her—it’s for me. My nerves are worse than Seb’s, which is ridiculous. He’s sitting in the armchair, cool as ever, his arm slung lazily over the back, like this is just another Saturday with Indie on his lap.

“Top ten coming up,” Benny says, nudging Seb from the other armrest. “You ready to go big-time, or what?”

Seb grins confidently. “Been ready.”

The TV cuts to commercial, and the tension in the room spikes. Someone groans. Miles throws a pillow at the screen. “Come on!”

Daphne chuckles softly, and I glance down at her. She’s the only other person here who doesn’t seem stressed. “You think he’s going early?” she asks me, keeping her voice low.

“He’s got to.” I glance at Seb, who’s fully invested in his girl on his lap. “There’s no way his stats and success the last four years goes past ten. Teams would be stupid.”

When the screen flashes back, it cuts off our conversation. The crowd noise from the draft is deafening, even through the TV. Holding the card for the eighth pick, the commissioner walks to the podium.

“With the eighth pick in the NFL Draft,” the commissioner says, pausing just long enough to make the room collectively hold its breath, “the Seattle Seahawks select…Sebastian Dawson, quarterback, from…”

The rest is drowned out.

The room explodes. Benny and Miles scream like they just scored the winning touchdown, tackling Seb before he can even stand. Laughter, cheers, chaos, it’s everywhere.

Seb rises above the pile of bodies, his arms thrown wide like he’s already on the field. “Let’s fucking go!” he yells, and it’s the loudest I’ve ever heard him.

I clap him on the back when he makes his way over. “Top ten, man! That’s huge.”

“Yeah, it is,” he says, his grin splitting his face.

The celebration buzzes on, but I can’t help glancing at the TV. They’re running Seb’s highlights now, playoff throws, game-winners, all the moments that got him here. My chest tightens watching it. I can’t help but imagine what it would feel like to see my own name on that screen.

Daphne’s hand slides over mine, squeezing softly. “You okay?” she asks, her voice full of that calm warmth only she has.

I nod and force a smile. “Yeah, just…thinking...”

She studies me for a second but doesn’t press.

I keep thinking about how this year is like the start of something huge. Seb will be headed to Seattle, and Miles is staying close but still graduating. And me? I’m having a baby.

It all feels very real and grown-up.

The three of us—me, Seb, and Miles—have been through everything together. Early morning lifts, brutal practices, game-day highs, and crushing losses. It’s always been us. And now they’re leaving, chasing their futures, while I’m staying here and living my future.

I’m happy for them. But there’s something about watching your best friends move on while you’re staying in one place that hits harder than I thought it would.

Seb’s laugh pulls my attention back, and I watch as he’s mobbed by the team. This is his moment, and it’s everything he deserves.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Daphne says beside me. I look down at her, those baby blues I love to get lost in pull me in like always.

I move closer to her, the chaos around us fading, as I lift my hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Her belly brushes against mine and my eyes glance down at our daughter. Because I just know it’s a girl.

“I’m thinking how this will be me next year.”

Biting down on her lip, she nods. “It will. I’ve been thinking about it.”

“You have?” I ask, watching her carefully.

She finally releases her bottom lip, blue eyes shining on me. “Wherever you end up, I want us to follow you.”

My heart flies out of my chest and straight into her hands, like she didn’t own it already.

“I don’t care where you end up, that’s where we’ll be. Okay?”

I swear I’m holding on by a thread. “You mean that?”

She smiles, big and beautiful. “Of course I mean it.”

“I love you,” I say, my voice quiet. My fingers brush gently from behind her ear, trailing down her collarbone, between her breasts where I feel the hitch of her breath. My hand comes to rest over her bump, her warm skin radiating through the fabric. “And her,” I add, my throat tightening at the weight of those words.

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, her hand covers mine, holding it there as she leans into me.

The noise of the party fades completely. It’s just us…me, Daphne, and this little life we made. Leaning closer to her, I kiss her cheek, letting my lips linger against her soft skin. Her scent, something light and familiar, fills my senses, grounding me.

“I love you too, baby,” she says, her voice trembling just a little. Her hand presses over mine, still resting on her bump, and the connection between us feels unshakable.

I lean my forehead against hers, closing my eyes for a second. These two people are everything I never knew I wanted but now can’t imagine living without.

Seb and Miles might be leaving, and my future might be a giant question mark, but this? This is my anchor. My reason to keep moving forward.