Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance (17 page)

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t even
feel
the pain when a strong arm shoved me into the lockers.

“Calm the
fuck
down.”

It wasn’t the first time Cole Hawthorne had me pinned, but I’d make sure it was the last time he ever put his hands on me. I spun, knocking him away. The Beast didn’t scare me.

“Don’t even think about it.” Cole didn’t hit me. He pitched a cup of cold water in my face. The second was just an insult. “Fuck, Jude! What the hell’s gotten into you? You’re acting like
me
.”

I shook.

Fuck
.

The rage burned now. Tightened my chest. Throbbed in my head.

I had never been this angry before.

I didn’t know if I’d ever calm down.

The equipment managers watched in quiet fear, desperately attempting to fix Cole’s broken shoulder pads. The coaches and players funneled inside as the half ended. I couldn’t handle their stares. Couldn’t explain what the hell it was I felt.

This wasn’t
me
.

It didn’t even feel like me in my own head.

Cole gripped my shoulder. “Breathe, Jude. Count to ten.”

“What the fuck is that gonna do?”

“It gives you something to do before you break another chair…or your hand.”

I leaned over, grimacing, fueled with hate and anger and black-pitted
emptiness
.

Coach Thompson roared through the locker room. The team silenced, and he pointed a fat finger in my face.

“What the hell are you doing, Owens? You’re acting like a goddamned rookie. Twelve seasons in this league, when have you ever gotten into a fight on the field?”

Never.

I
never
would have fought during a game.

It was stupid. It was dangerous. It cost the team yardage.

I raised my gaze, looking past the coach, the confused team, our frustrated quarterback.

I looked for
her.

And she was the one who brought me back.

“I don’t know.” The adrenaline dried up. I breathed hard, exhausted, confused. “It didn’t feel like me out there.”

“Sort it the fuck out,” Coach Thompson said. “And fix your goddamned family issues off the field.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“You good to play in the second half?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Get a drink and cool down.”

I swallowed, but Rory was quick to my side. She offered me a cup of Gatorade, but she saw through the fight on the field.

“How’s your head?” She kept her voice low. “Headache?”

Why lie? “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Are you nauseous? Dizzy?”

“I’m fine.”

“Jude, I need to know what’s happening. Are you okay?”

I wasn’t an idiot. There was no way I’d tell her I lost complete control of myself, my emotions, and my thoughts. She’d pull me off the field, and I doubt she’d ever let me on again.

“I’m fine, Doc. I just need to focus. Eric got under my skin.”

“It wasn’t Eric.” Her eyes widened. “Irritability and mood swings are a symptom of post-concussion syndrome. You could be—”

“Your brother and I got some shit to work out. It’s not my
head
. It’s
him
.” I softened my voice. The edge hadn’t worn off yet. “I’ll sort it out.”

She stared at me. “I’m worried about you, Jude.”

And that’s what worried me. I needed her on my side, not looking for reasons to bench me.

Fortunately, I knew how to play her. I smiled, hating myself. She couldn’t resist it when I acted sweet. It made me an asshole, but it kept her quiet.

“Thank you, Rory.” I squeezed her hand. “It’s nice to have someone who cares.”

“I do care. More than I should.”

“Then I don’t need any help. I’m already the luckiest guy in the world.”

She bit her lip. “Just…tell me if it gets worse.”

“Absolutely, Doc.”

She returned to the training staff, and I rejoined the team for our half-time adjustments.

Jack stared at me. He knew. “She let you off the hook?”

“I’m fine.”

“How much longer can you sweet talk your way out of this bullshit?”

“Long enough to win a championship.”

“And then what?”

I didn’t answer. It was the first time that I’d ever asked myself that question.

M
ost woman grew
out of imaginary boyfriends when they were kids.

Not this girl. The older I become, the harder I fell for my fake boyfriend.

“I have a plan for Jude.” Leah waved a French fry at me.

I glanced over the Rivets’ cafeteria. We weren’t the only ones in a deep strategy session. The offense held a meeting over their cheeseburgers and fries. Leah didn’t work with playbooks and offensive installations though. She managed the team’s PR, salvaged the reputation of the players, and worked her ass off to ensure the Rivets had some
good
publicity again.

After Jude’s fight with my step-brother on national television? We needed all the help we could get.

“I’ve talk with Sports Nation,” she said. “We’re going to do a big story on him. Photographs. An interview. The whole nine yards—ten yards, I guess. We’ll focus on how he made this amazing come-back from his injury, plus we’ll add a headline about how he’s on pace for his best season ever.”

Elle liked the idea. She cradled both her camera and her son. “Good. I have a couple great shots of Jude from last week’s game…when he wasn’t in a headlock. I also have a beautiful photo of him and Rory together.”

I panicked. “You do?”

“Candid.”

“Oh. That’s…” Creepy.

“I’m always looking for personal shots of the guys. I took one of you guys before the game…when he was touching your baby bump? Melts your heart.” Elle scrolled through her camera to find it. “It’ll add a great personal touch to his story.”

“Shouldn’t we keep the focus on Jude?” I asked.

Piper shook her head. “No way. You’re the focus here.”

“I am?”

Leah agreed. “You’re the reason for his amazing season.”

“I don’t think—”

“Just imagine the narrative I could sell,” Leah said. “Jude has his girl rooting for him, a baby on the way, and he’s playing his best game ever after an almost career-ending injury.”

“It’s perfect.” Piper was already on her phone. “I’ll call my father and set this up. He better thank me for this—I should get a cut of his commission…or maybe I’ll steal Jude away and take him on as my own client.”

“This will be a great human interest piece.” Leah grabbed her iPad and took notes. “We’ll start with the injury. Show how you stuck by his side and guided him through the recovery—”

Shoot. “Actually…we weren’t together then. Officially.”

“No problem. I can work with it. We’ll hit the lifelong friends angle instead. You realized your true feelings for him after the play that nearly stole him from your life. Then we’ll add in Jude’s part—when he realizes he’s been a bachelor all these years because he’s been holding out for
you
. People will love that. It’s a once-upon-a-time and a happily-ever-after all rolled into one.”

Yeah. That’s because it wasn’t
true
.

“Jude’s so private though,” I said. “And, to be perfectly honest…” Well, as much as I could be. “My family hasn’t supported this relationship. My step-mother won’t even talk to me…and you saw what happened on the field between Jude and my step-brother.”

Piper wasn’t deterred. “They’ll deal with it. Believe me; I’ve had my share of disappointed family members.”

Elle raised a hand. “Ditto.”

Piper stole one of Leah’s fries. “And it doesn’t matter what your family thinks. This baby will be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you guys. We were all in your shoes once, but you have nothing to worry about. Jude’s there to help you.”

Was he?

For how long? We hadn’t discussed what would happen after the baby came.

Hell, we weren’t talking at all. Not easily, at least. We made a little progress when Genie started kicking, but unless we talked about the baby, we were stuck in awkward silences and uncomfortable memories.

Good memories that spawned embarrassing, revealing, absolutely dangerous feelings.

Jude had given me the greatest pleasure of my life. I gave him a cracked septum.

Fortunately, I could hide from him at practice and at home, but how long could I go without apologizing? Without talking to him?

Without wanting
more
?

But that desire was selfish. I had a baby, my career, and an entire football team depending on me. I couldn’t complicate my life any more.

No matter how much I wanted him. Needed him.
Missed
having those moments when I could just turn to him and steal a laugh, a hug, or give a pout that would send him running to the store for more root beer popsicles.

I couldn’t go another fifteen weeks without my
friend
.

Jude sat with the offense on the other side of the cafeteria. Close enough that I might have walked over and just said
hello
. Pulled him aside, took him somewhere private, and fixed this. But the only way I could ever explain my behavior?

I’d have to tell him the truth about how I felt.

But that would cause even more problems. I’d already ruined any chance at romance. I couldn’t lose him too.

“I can’t imagine falling in love with my best friend,” Leah said. “I knew Jack for a couple years before we got together, but we weren’t close. And even that was a little weird.”

Weird didn’t begin to describe it. The girls leaned in, like they wanted me to swap secrets.

Was it a lie if I was mostly honest?

“It was very strange at first,” I said. “Still is. I never thought we’d be this close.”

“Exactly.” Leah curled a finger in her hair with a mischievous grin. “The first time I was with Jack was…surprisingly magical. And Sammy came soon after, so it was efficient too.”

Piper laughed. “The only reason I went for it with Cole was because I wanted to be
bad
for once. I took a risk, and it was worth it.”

Leah smirked. “And here I thought the Beast had a reputation for eating people.”

“Oh, he did that too.”

The girls giggled, drawing the attention of some of the team. Most had dodged me when I sat down, despite being clients of either Leah’s PR firm or Piper’s agency. Elle chased the rest away with a
lunch time candid
.

“You guys are lucky.” Elle covered her baby’s ears. “I can’t even remember my first time with Lachlan. That whole weekend is blur—but a good blur. But it turns out I like Lachlan even without gratuitous amounts of alcohol.”

They looked at me.

Damn it, was it my turn? I froze. I hadn’t gossiped since med school, and even that was about a sexy patient suffering from an intracranial aneurysm.

Fortunately, Leah painted the picture for me. “Let me guess—it just
happened
one day?”

Close enough. “Yep.”

“Taking that leap must have been hard. I mean, you knew him since you were
kids
.”

“The leap wasn’t the only thing that was hard.” I earned a laugh. So far so good. “It was just passionate.”

“It’d have to be.” Leah sighed. “Romantic too. No words. No over-thinking it. No hesitations. Just going for it.”

If only.

“It’s…scary,” I said. So was honesty. “We had a really great relationship, but he had no idea I’d loved him for years. I never said anything either. Jude was practically a part of my family, and I depended on him for so much. We’d built a friendship based on trust and respect, and I’m afraid—I
was
afraid—that we’d destroy this amazing bond if we went for it.”

“But you were brave enough to do it,” Elle said.

The pretend Rory was.

The real Rory? She was a coward, spinning lies upon lies. Every day the relationship tangled in yet another series of fibs and half-truths.

But the greatest lie of all?

My feelings for Jude.

I had to do
something
. No more embarrassment. No more awkwardness.

It was time to fix what I had broken—if not his nose then the damage I’d caused to our friendship.

I worked late, but I made it home before dinner. Phillip met me at the door with one of the last lampshades in the house. Jude must have headed straight for the shower when he got back. I traded our decor for a cup of kibbles in Phillip’s bowl and waited for Jude in his bedroom.

The master bedroom was a bastion of masculinity. The stark white walls were framed by large windows, tinted for his privacy. The minimalist décor suited him. Jude wasn’t a materialistic man, and only his king-sized bed seemed vulgar in its extravagance.

I sat on the edge of the bed. This was not a productive place for me, not with second trimester
whormones
swirling inside me.

This was it. I’d tell him everything. I’d apologize for hiding from this confrontation, and I’d tell him the truth.

I loved him, and every moment I spent near him tortured me with memories of his touches and kisses and that night when he’d nearly destroyed me with pleasure…and I’d thanked him with a broken nose.

But he hadn’t cared. He’d forgiven me. Immediately.

And the words he’d whisper still resonated so deep inside me.

You’re worth it
.

Why was everything so complicated? Every little flirt promised something more. Every touch sizzled. Every smile hid the truth.

When Jude had nearly taken me upon the couch, I
knew
he wanted me as much as I had wanted him.

So why not do it?

The thought was…terrifying.

And liberating.

And
wrong
.

But why not take that chance? Make the mistake. Take what we both wanted.

It wasn’t like our relationship would get any worse.

What if we made it into something…better?

I stood, pushing open his bathroom door. A sliver of light appeared. Once I stepped inside, there was no coming back.

It was the bravest thing I had done in five months.

His bathroom was a tiled masterpiece of imported marble and luxury. Steam rolled from the shower, fogging the oversized mirror and double sinks. Jude usually liked to soak in the Jacuzzi tub after practices to soothe his aching joints, but today he relaxed under the stream. I couldn’t blame him. The huge stall came equipped with a dozen different shower heads and settings, each offering a delightful massage inside the curved, stone walls. Soft lighting diffused through the mist, and the patter of the rainshower head was muffled as the droplets struck his body.

This was foolish.

Risky and stupid.

I tugged my shirt off and stepped out of my skirt. My bra and panties fell next.

Why hide from my desires anymore? Why avoid a chance to feel something magical?

Why not experience the Jude Owens from my fantasies before the baby came and…

Our fairy tale was over?

“Rory?” Jude called. “Everything okay?”

Yes.

No.

I had no idea if it ever would be again.

I held my breath and stepped into the shower.

Jude turned. His voice dropped to a low rumble. “Oh.”

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Hi.”

I ducked under the water—naked, breathless, untangling knot after knot in my stomach.

No more talking. No more questions.

No more worrying about the future or the past or anything beyond what we felt in this moment.

I stared into the silvered heat of his eyes. Jude didn’t move. The water trickled over his shoulders and back, dripping on the rough tribal tattoos spanning his left arm—a cover for the surgical scar from when he’d torn his rotator cuff. The scar, the ink, the muscles bred power. Raw and strong.

Intimidating.

I stood on the tips of my toes to press against his body. My swelling tummy bumped against the rigid tightness of his abs. It was wrong to do this, to want him, while I carried another man’s baby, but I ignored the implications and consequences.

I waited for a kiss.

And one terrifying moment passed as Jude hesitated. My heart pounded, suffocating me with the sudden and terrible fear of rejection, humiliation, foolishness—

But his hand brushed my cheek.

And his lips lowered to mine.

And I was his.

I melded into his body, gripping his shoulders, the fierce knot of muscles and strength that forged this perfect man. The bruises and abrasions from the games were fiercer than his tattoo. Proof of his strength. A living, breathing,
healing
testament to the sacrifices he made to the sport and his teammates.

I nibbled his lip before pulling back. The heat wove over me, trapping me in a cocoon of my own desire. Jude’s body rippled with strength and masculinity. I’d never before let my gaze drift where only my mind had wandered. I vowed to memorize every inch of him.

I didn’t know when I’d have this chance again.

I followed a single droplet of water as it crested from his shoulders. It rolled over the hardened, tensed flesh of his chest, dipping low into the valleys created from the pack of flexing muscles. His abs and core narrowed into a trim waist, but he wasn’t a small man. Lean, but impressively strong. Every inch of him throbbed with power.

Including the part of him straining against his own desire.

His thick cock jetted out. Straight and humbling, his flesh didn’t curve or bend. It pointed, aimed for me, dripping with the striking droplets of the shower. He didn’t touch it, though the heated shaft struck against me as I reached for another kiss.

This man was
perfect
.

Just as I had imagined.

Fierce and strong, stacked with muscles, and even hiding a tinge of gray in the trail of hair leading from his navel. Jude had no physical imperfections. Only daunting strength. A curious smirk. Roaming hands.

He kissed me again. My groan excited him. He twisted me, plunging me under the water and against the wall.

So much for slow. We were beyond timid exploration.

I hadn’t wanted to
make love
—nothing could make me fall harder for him than I already had.

We touched. We kissed. We groaned within the comfort of each other’s lips as desire tangled us tighter than our embrace.

This wasn’t passion—it was
freedom
. Permission. A moment of weakness that hid us from our own thoughts and fears and regrets.