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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

SPIRALS

BOWIE

“I swear I didn’t come over here to take you to bed,” I tell her sheepishly.

I twist a strand of her hair around my finger and glide down the wave and then do it again. Her head is on my chest and I don’t want to move. Everything feels too perfect. My body is sated. Her fingers are teasing me, her leg is hitched over my thigh, and we’re still naked…I don’t want this ni ght to end.

She leans her chin on my chest and looks up at me, grinning.

“You won’t find me complaining,” she says.

“Me either,” I say into her hair. She smells so good, like citrus and flowers.

From the other room, my phone interrupts the quiet, and I can tell by the alert that it’s my mom. I groan.

“Do you need to check that?”

“Yeah, that’s my mom. I should get home. She and Mrs. McGregor are trying to work out the kinks in the household.”

Poppy stirs against me, tilting her face up to look at me. “A little more drama than you’re used to?”

I nod. “Yeah. You can probably tell I don’t love the drama. Unless it’s Penn’s.” She laughs and I smile down at her. “Becca is with Mrs. McGregor, and they’ve done the bedtime routine countless times without me when I’m on the road. But I didn’t prepare Becca for that tonight, so I should get back.”

“I understand. I think it’s commendable how hard you work to keep her routines. That’s a challenging endeavor.”

I lean down, catching her lips in a lingering kiss. Her hands land on my face and it warms everything inside me. I want nothing more than to lose myself in her again, but I force myself to pull back.

“Tonight was…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “Really nice.”

She smiles before biting down on her lower lip and nodding. “It was.”

I get out of bed reluctantly and get dressed. Poppy pulls her sweatshirt over her head and I make a face, bending down to kiss her temple. “It’s a shame to cover that body up.”

Her eyes are lit up when she looks at me, and I think that she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I feel like the darkest part of the night to her sun.

My thumb caresses her cheek and then I walk out of her room. She follows me to the door, her arms wrapping around herself as if bracing for the cold.

“I’ll see you soon, probably tomorrow at Briar Hill,” I say.

“Bowie,” she says suddenly.

I pause, smirking. “Yeah?”

She hesitates, taking a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.”

My heart skips a beat at the seriousness in her tone. “Okay.”

Her eyes skate over my face and she reaches up, smoothing away the furrow in my brow.

“What is it?” I ask. My phone buzzes again and I wince.

She shakes her head, smiling. “It can wait. Sleep well.”

My eyes narrow, but her smile deepens.

“Really,” she says. “I’ll see you…later.”

I give her a lingering kiss, hating to leave her. “Later,” I say, putting my hands in my pockets and walking out. I turn and look back at her. “Night, Poppy.”

She leans against the doorway in nothing but her oversized sweatshirt and my mouth goes dry.

We smile at each other and I leave, a bit shaken up by all that just happened. And we didn’t even have any popcorn.

I follow the sounds of Becca and Mrs. McGregor laughing in the kitchen. Mom’s door is still closed.

“How’s it going here?” I ask.

“Good,” Becca says.

Mrs. McGregor nods. “It’s been a good night. We had a little snack and Becca’s had her shower.”

“I’m glad. Thank you. ”

“I brush my teeth now,” Becca says.

“Perfect. I’ll be in there soon to tell you good night,” I tell Becca.

“Night, you two,” Mrs. McGregor says.

“Night,” we both answer.

I turn off the lights and then head to Becca’s room. She’s looking at her mommy pictures, and the one of her and Poppy is front and center now. My mind starts racing. I try to shut it down, focus on nothing but Becca, but it’s hard when she’s focused on Poppy.

“I like Poppy,” she says. “You like Poppy too.”

Yes, I do.

“I wish Poppy was my mommy,” she says.

Fuck me.

“She’s a good friend, isn’t she.” I try to redirect.

“My best friend.” Becca nods, as she crawls into bed.

I smile at Martha curled up next to Becca, wearing pajamas that match Becca’s, thanks to Elle. I scratch her little head, laughing as the little hair she has on her head flies out in every direction. I’m happy I caved with Martha. She’s growing on me.

I tuck Becca in and wish her sweet dreams before turning out the light.

Instead of going to bed, I go downstairs and work out.

I haven’t slept with someone more than once since Adriane. I thought she was my everything…until she wasn’t. And I know now that the only person in my life who’s been my everything is Becca. Because I’d give up everyone and everything for my daughter.

Adriane and I were inseparable for years. She knew my dreams and it seemed like she was ready for it all…until she wasn’t. She didn’t really know what she wanted to do with her life, didn’t have anything she was passionate about, and as it turned out, I think she just craved a simple life. I don’t fault her for that. The level of my success was too much. She was like me—more comfortable being on the outside of things, out of the spotlight. Where we were so different was that I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. She didn’t realize how my career would put everything we did in a fishbowl.

I blame myself for her leaving. But I don’t think anything—even me walking away from football—would have changed her mind once she wanted to leave. When we found out she was pregnant, it was a brief respite of hope, like maybe I wasn’t losing her, but in the end, she didn’t want to be a mother either.

She didn’t leave because of Becca, but she didn’t stay for Becca either.

It’s more complicated than that, but once Becca was born and I fell in love with that little girl, to me, nothing was more black and white: I loved Becca and would die for her.

For Adriane, it was one more thing that threw her off balance.

She left without looking back and left me to pick up the pieces alone.

As much as it hurt, I’ve worked through her not wanting me, but I’ll never understand her not wanting Becca.

I run on the treadmill until I’m sopping wet and then head to the shower, standing in the steam as the water sluices over me.

Poppy isn’t Adriane. It isn’t right to compare them.

But it’s almost impossible not to when Poppy is the first person who’s made me think twice about my no-dating stance.

Poppy is genuine in a way that feels almost impossible. Unlike Adriane, she knows exactly what she’d be getting into if we had a relationship. And she adores Becca.

It’s the way that Becca adores Poppy that scares me the most.

Somehow, I did manage to sleep last night, but I wake up dragging. After I take Becca to school, I go to Luminary. The bell jingles over the door as I step inside and my jaw tightens when I spot Clara behind the counter, looking at me expectantly. The music is booming like it was the other day.

“Not again,” I mumble.

“Morning, Bowie!” she calls, her grin huge. “Hope you’re ready to boogie!”

“Clara,” I say flatly, regretting my decision to come here.

“You know the drill,” she says, pointing at the floor.

I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. The small crowd in the shop watches, some pulling out their phones to record me.

“It better be an extra-large drink,” I tell Clara.

She nods happily. “Coming right up.”

I start the Gangnam Style dance and as I’m doing the horseback rider, Penn appears out of nowhere and slides on the floor between my feet, pretending to be the horse. The shop erupts into cheers and applause and when Penn stands up, we do the shuffle steps together. When we’re done, Penn holds his hand up, beaming, and I slap it, not beaming.

“That was awesome,” Penn says, laughing.

“We shouldn’t be encouraging this,” I say dryly, giving Clara a look.

She just laughs at me, handing me a large Americano. “I knew you had it in you, Bowie Fox.”

I grumble nonsense and then a tangle of long, blonde hair catches my eye. Poppy’s smile is huge until she sees that I’ve spotted her and she turns to the cart that Clara keeps with napkins and a variety of creamers. She fusses with the napkins and something about the way her shoulders hunch tells me she’s had her own night of contemplation.

“Morning,” I say, sliding into the seat closest to the cart.

She freezes then turns, clutching a handful of sugar packets like they’re lifelines. “Oh! Hey!”

I raise an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Fine! Totally fine,” she says too quickly. She stuffs the packets back into the bowl with too much force.

Before I can press further, she startles at the bell jangling and knocks into the cart, sending stir sticks and napkins flying. One of the creamers turns over and glugs down the side of the cart. I stand instinctively to help, but Poppy is already in full panic mode, scrambling to clean up the milk and grabbing a fistful of stirrers.

“Why am I so clumsy?” she groans. “Like I don’t have enough to worry about, and now—” she stops mid-sentence.

“Now what?”

She glances around, her face flushing as she sees all the attention she’s getting. Clara comes over with a mop and Poppy tries to take it from her.

“Honey, don’t worry about this at all. Happens at least once a day. I need someone to do a built-in here instead of this rickety old thing.”

“I like this rickety old thing.” Poppy sniffs.

Clara smiles.

But when I look at Poppy again, I’m shocked to see tears rolling down her face.

I lean in. “Poppy, what’s got you so upset? It’s really all right. ”

She exhales sharply and straightens, looking up at me. “I’m pregnant with your baby!” she says.

The coffee shop goes silent and I freeze, the words like stones pelting me nonstop.

“What?” I whisper.

She turns a shade of red I didn’t think was possible. “Oh my God,” she whispers, burying her face in her hands.

“Did I just hear that right?” Clara asks in delight.

“I didn’t mean to just…blurt it out like that,” Poppy says, looking panicked.

I stand there, my brain scrambling to catch up. The coffee shop is unnervingly quiet and it’s then that I feel Penn’s hand on my shoulder. It steadies me.

“Let’s…talk outside,” I say finally, my voice gruff.

Poppy nods quickly, ducking her head as she walks away. I look at Penn and he nods.

“You’ve got this,” he says quietly.

When I step outside, Poppy is pacing on the side of Luminary…away from the windows. When she sees me, she stops and looks at me with uncertainty.

“How about we start over,” I say. “What?—?”

Tears are streaming down her face now and I have a sick feeling.

“I’m pregnant. I realized it the night of your dad’s funeral…when I got sick at your house. And I’ve wanted to tell you ever since…I just didn’t know how…I wanted to be further along so I could be sure I even was, but I went to the doctor and,” she throws her hand in the air, “I definitely am. She said I’m due in November.”

“You knew last night?” I say, feeling numb and bewildered and a little delayed in the whole processing of this. “Since the night of my dad’s funeral ? ”

She steps forward, her face a torment. “Yes. I’m sorry, Bowie. I should’ve told you, I know.”

I stare at her, the weight of her words settling over me. I feel like I’m drowning in this news. A baby.

“We used a condom,” I say weakly.

“I know.”

“I’ve always thought Rhodes was probably wrong about using a condom when Levi was conceived, but—” I close my eyes and press my fingers to the bridge of my nose, exhaling roughly.

“Things happen,” she says.

“Things happen.” My eyes open, and I try to focus on her. “I didn’t plan on ever having another baby.”

Pain flashes across her face and she nods, biting her lower lip. “I understand.”

“No, I…I just…I need a minute or a million to process this.”

She nods. “I get it, trust me.”