Page 92
I close the email from Darlene and spot yet another notification from Instagram.
I rarely post there. I’m more of a silent scroller myself, less likely to draw attention to what I’m doing than to post the highlight reel.
I have a bunch of messages, and I spot Sara’s name first. I click on it to read what she sent me.
Sara: You’re the love of his life? How come I never knew about this???
I click the link she attached, and it takes me to a photo posted by Tristan Higgins this morning.
We look so damn happy in the picture, and that’s my first thought.
It’s the second thought that comes out my mouth. “You posted a picture of us?” My tone is one of surprise.
His eyes edge over to me. “Is that not okay?”
“It’s…fine, I guess.” I guess I’m not sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, I want to shout from the rooftops that he’s mine and everyone else should stay the hell away. On the other hand, I don’t need anyone else sniffing around me or my history—especially since I told him I wasn’t interested in the spotlight. “It’s just, my inbox is blowing up and it took me off guard a little.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. He reaches over and squeezes my leg. “I had all these comments from women, and I guess I just wanted to shut them down. To let them know I’m with somebody. I never really thought twice about it. I didn’t post the engagement ring because I figured you’d want to tell your mom first.”
“Thanks.” My tone is flat as I realize I’ve been engaged for nearly twelve hours and my mom still doesn’t know. I’ve also been to the emergency room and back and even slept a couple hours…also things my mother isn’t aware of.
I sigh.
“You’re mad,” he says softly.
“I’m not.” I shake my head as I reach over and lay a hand on his thigh. How could I be mad after he held my hand through the whole emergency room visit last night? How could I be mad after he bought me a house? It’s just a picture on Instagram and it blindsided me a little. “It’s all just a little overwhelming.”
“Do you want to skip breakfast?” he asks.
“No, no. Not at all. I love seeing you with your friends. It’s a new Tristan—you’re in your element. You’re smiling. It’s not so heavy all the time, you know?”
He nods. “That’s what friends are for, I think.”
“I’d love to see them again before they leave.” I pause as I think about how I’d like to see them in Vegas, too. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to go to Vegas with you.”
“I think I should cancel,” he says. “Stay back and make sure you’re okay. I won’t enjoy it anyway. I’ll be thinking about you the whole time if you’re not there.”
“I’m fine, Tristan. The baby’s fine, too. Your trip is still a couple weeks away anyway, and we’ll get that second opinion this week with my doctor. Aren’t you going back for minicamp the next weekend anyway?” I ask.
“Yeah. I think you should come to Vegas. We can drive, or we can find a way to travel safely. That way I can keep an eye on you.”
My chest aches as I think how much I want that. Part of me wants him to stay here forever, but I’d never really ask him for that. He’s got a job to do, and the minicamps and OTAs are all part of it. He’ll go for his workouts, but he’ll be back after a long weekend away. Then he’ll go for OTAs, but again, he’ll come back. It’s when training camp starts in late July…that’s the time I’m worried about.
That’s the time I think I should go with him.
That’s the time I’ll have a newborn with me to consider, too, and I want her to be with him. I want her to bond with him. I want them to get to know each other even if he’s gone all day and only home a few hours each night.
I want him for those hours, too.
I don’t mention all that. I keep telling myself we have lots of time.
But time is this strange phenomenon that just doesn’t slow down no matter how much we want it to.
Eventually he’ll go back, and I have to figure out what comes next for the baby and me. If I leave Fallon Ridge to go to Vegas, I leave my mom behind. But I’ve already started over in this life more than once. I’m strong enough to do it again with Tristan as part of the equation—even if it means quiet days and lonely nights.
I just wish I had some direction beyond becoming a mother. I wish I wanted to go back to nursing, but I don’t. I don’t miss it, not the way I thought I would.
The more I think about it, the more I realize how much I enjoyed planning the festival. I’d love to do more things like that for charity—for the TNT Higs Foundation. For our charity.
It still feels surreal that it even exists as a possibility.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs as we pull into the parking lot.
“I’m sorry.” I glance over at him but I avert my gaze to the windshield when I blurt, “I’m just thinking about what happens next.”
“Next?” he asks.
“When you have to go back to Vegas,” I clarify. “Not these short weekends away, but for training camp and the entire season.”
He nods, and then he reaches over to grab my hand. “Come with me.”
My brow furrows as I meet his eyes. “I’ll have a newborn. I’ll be all alone.”
He shakes his head as he reaches over to grab my hand. “You won’t be alone. I will be right there, and when I can’t be there, you’ll have Ellie. Jack, my quarterback, has little kids, and Ben Olson’s wife just had twins. It’s a family, Tessa, and I want you to be part of it. We’re engaged to be married, and I want you walking by my side for all of it.”
“But Ellie and Jack and Ben…they’re all actual family, right?” I know the history. Ellie’s married to Jack’s brother. Ben’s married to Jack’s sister. “I’ll just be an outsider looking in.”
“You won’t be,” he says, his tone adamant. “Sure, they have actual family relations, but they’re not the only ones on the team with kids. Coach is like our team father, and his wife, Mo, is like the team mother. They’ve built a program where we all rely on each other both on and off the field. Trust me, Tess. You won’t be alone. Ever.”
What he’s saying…it all sounds so good. It sounds wonderful, actually. I’ve spent so much of the last few years feeling alone, like I hardly had any family at all since I stayed away except for the occasional calls with my mom.
But we’re close now, and the thought of leaving her again is scary.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. “But Tristan?”
His eyes meet mine and he raises his brows.
“I don’t want to be in the spotlight.” My voice is quiet, and I heave in a deep breath as the confession leaves me feeling a little uneasy about our future together. “Is that okay? I don’t want people finding out who the father is. I don’t want people looking into my private affairs. I don’t want a loud life where every detail is picked apart in the media.”
He nods. “I don’t want any of that either, and that’s part of why I bought the Cunningham’s house for us. Fallon Ridge just feels like the right place for us. It’s quiet and far from the spotlight. I will do whatever I can to protect you from it. I’m not immune, but plenty of guys and their families live this life without the constant media frenzy.”
I nod, and he leans across the console to press his lips to mine.
We head inside, where four football players and Ellie sit in a corner booth waiting for us. The men all wear ballcaps pulled down low as if it’ll disguise their identity, but I’d venture a guess that it’s not often four—now five—professional athletes who are essentially tall, hulking men walk into the corner diner in Moline, Illinois.
The server seems nervous as she approaches our table to get our drink order. She’s young—late teens or early twenties, I’d guess, and it’s like she knows these men are all somebody, but she hasn’t figured out who exactly they are just yet.
I order some orange juice after Tristan orders water and coffee, and then I glance over at the guys. They’re all deep in conversation already, so I lean toward her with a conspiratorial smile. “They’re all players for the Vegas Aces,” I whisper, and her cheeks turn bright red.
“I’ll be r-r-right back with your d-d-drinks,” she stammers, and it’s this very moment I realize how freaking lucky I am to be sitting at this table.
I’m part of the inner circle.
I belong here.
Tristan took me under his wing when I was new to Fallon Ridge, and I don’t know why I doubted for even a second that he wouldn’t do the exact same thing in Vegas.
And with that thought in mind, the decision is made.
I’ll stay here to have the baby…but come July, I’m moving to Vegas.
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