Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Baby boy, you’re walking.” I smile, holding my hands out.
And Deaton damn near runs forward, clearing the last five steps with ease. He slams into my chest with a laugh and squeezes my cheeks with his slobbery hands.
“Oh my god,” I laugh, my arms lifting him from the floor. “Daddy’s so proud of y-you.”
I don’t realize what I’ve said util the words are out there, and I squeeze my eyes closed, tucking him closer for another quiet moment.
“Ba, ba, ba,” he babbles next.
A low, raspy chuckle escapes me, and I spin him, tucking him in my lap as I reach for his bag and pull out the small sippy cup from the corner pocket. “Man, you are getting big. Talking and walking and a big boy cup?” I murmur, handing it to him to see if he knows what to do.
Sure enough, he tips it back, gazing up at me and tugging on my hoodie strings as he takes a few small sips of water.
My hand lifts, and I run my fingers over his soft curls, staring down into his big blue eyes.
This must be what it’s like to have to share a child with a second family, like a family of divorce.
Bone-splitting sadness envelops me, and I wince at the literal pain it causes. I can’t imagine not being with the mother of my child. It would be pure torture every day knowing you’re missing something. I think I’d want to do everything I could to make it work.
I blink, shaking my head.
What the hell am I talking about? That is exactly what’s going on here, and I have tried everything. Because I am the other half. Blood or not, he’s still mine.
Even if she won’t be.
Why the fuck won’t she be?
Because you’re not enough, and you never will be.
I thought I understood, but I don’t.
She promised me.
She promised, and I wish she would have just…not.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Mason
Now, November
Turns out Payton’s new project is bigger than the last one. Not only was she personally requested for another collab between Embers Elite and Avix, but she’s been asked to take headshots of the entire Sharks roster.
Which is why all fuck ton of us, even the guys who have yet to touch a toe to the turf come game days, stood half-fucking-naked in a line half a mile long, waiting for our turn to step in front of the lens. Her lens.
I was in the first flow, Brady and Chase right along with me, being that we’re starters, but that also meant we were in and out the quickest, the sheer number of athletes overwhelming to look at, even for the rest of the camera and lights crew.
We were brought in, twisted and turned, and shuffled out in an all-business fashion that sent pride through my veins. Because damn, she looks good in her element. Moving and directing and demanding. It’s a side of her I haven’t quite seen, a new, more polished version of the little photographer I met on the beach a year and a half ago. That internship is helping her find her way, and man, if there isn’t a brighter blue shining in her eyes because of it.
Of course, after I was done, I had to stick around. Just in case.
So for the last two hours, I’ve been leaning against the wall not ten feet from the makeshift photo booth, just…watching. Maybe waiting.
Swear to god, if I hear one more son of a bitch comment on her hair, I’m going to shave theirs in the locker room.
My eyes cut to the black curtain ten feet away, a glimpse of her strawberry-golden hair shining through the crack, and my lungs inflate. Her hair is gorgeous, though. It looks like she might have cut it a little, something I noticed the minute I walked in this morning but didn’t catch yesterday, since her hair was pulled back in a bun. Not much, maybe just the length of my pinkie, but I won’t know for sure until I have it in my hands, testing the length I’ve become accustomed to.
As soon as the thought hits, it bursts into a cloud of dust, leaving me coughing.
I won’t get to run my fingers through the length of her curls this time. No, this time, her trip will play out a lot differently. She won’t be coming back with me or inviting me back with her.
“Hey.” A soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look over to find Allana.
“Hey.” I offer a polite smile. “How are you?”
“Fine. Um, listen.” She wrings her hands together, eyes bouncing to where the team is lined up and back. “Can I talk to you a minute? Outside?”
A small frown builds, and I look toward Payton. “Can you maybe talk here?” I ask, unsure what we could have to talk about that would require privacy and unwilling to give it. I can’t leave Payton in here with all these assholes.