Hunter (Campus Kings): A Football Secret Baby Novel (11 page)

Chapter 25

Britt

"Oh my gosh! You've gotten so big!" Danielle
exclaims, picking up Max with a grunt.

"Aunt Danielle, want to see my racecars?" Max offers.
Danielle came out to visit us in Oregon several times, even as she graduated
from Vanover and got a teaching job here in Nashville, so Max is quite familiar
with her.

"I do, but first I want to talk to your mom,
okay?"

"Okay, after," Max replies reasonably, and
Danielle sets him down and he runs off to the corner of the yard with his toys.

"I'm so glad you and your dad made up," she says,
sitting down across from me at the old picnic table in my dad's backyard.

"Me too," I reply. "He says the stroke made
him see things differently. Not that he really wants to rehash the past, but he
says he wants to move forward with me in his life."

"So Max's father is…"

"Some guy in Oregon that it didn't really work out
with," I tell her. "I've been pretty fuzzy on the timeline, so I
guess it's good that he'd rather just focus on the future."

"Are you staying for a while? I'd love to get to spend
some time with you both."

"Actually, my dad was really proud to hear that I'd
graduated with my degree in psychology, and when I told him I'd love to get my
Ph.D., he floated the idea of him paying for it. Vanover has a great program,
so Max and I could stay in the area and he could get to know his
grandson."

Danielle's jaw drops, but I can tell she's trying not to get
too excited. "That sounds...neat."

"It does. I just don't want my Aunt Paula to feel hurt,
after all the help she's given us. I'm going to talk to her tonight about
it."

"So you might be moving back to Nashville. This is a
pretty small city, you know," Danielle says meaningfully. "And your
dad and Hunter are close now, right?"

"They are. We're bound to run into each other at some
point," I say, feeling nerves rise up inside me.

Danielle's face grows a bit more serious. "Do you know
who Allyson Anders is?"

"Um, a country singer, right? I think I've heard some
of her songs on the radio," I reply, confused by the change in topic.

"Yeah, a country singer. She's got a squeaky clean
image, or at least she did before last week when she got a DUI and then also
tested positive for cocaine."

"Yikes, that's...unfortunate, I guess. So why are you
telling me this?"

Danielle takes a deep breath, then leans into her tote bag
and takes out a copy of Us Weekly. I stare at the cover photo of Angelina Jolie
and Brad Pitt, and look up at Danielle in confusion. She reaches over and
points to the side panel, at the picture in the bottom right corner. I feel a
pang in my chest as I see a picture of Hunter next to a curvy blonde. The
caption reads "Country Singer and Star QB Engaged!".

"Ah," I murmur. "So that's that, then. I
guess I missed my chance." I feel tears spring to my eyes and swallow
quickly to press down a cry. I don't want Max worrying about me.

"I'm sorry," Danielle says. "I can't deny
it's bad news, but maybe it's not the end. There's no way she's right for
him."

"You've never even met her," I point out.

"But I know you, and I knew Hunter. You guys really had
something special. Something I still haven't found for myself. And there's Max.
You'll always be bound together."

"Hunter could be a completely different person now. And
if he's happy with Allyson Anders, then I'm not going to arrive on the scene
and bust everything up for him by announcing that he's Max's father. I already
hurt him enough before."

"But you'll still have to see him."

"I'll be friendly and polite, and otherwise just avoid
him as much as possible. It was a college relationship, and it was years ago.
Maybe now I'll finally be able to move on."

Chapter 26

Hunter

"Allyson, what the fuck?" I yell, storming back
into my bedroom. Allyson lays naked on my bed, her head on my pillow and her
blonde hair a mess. She looks up blearily at me.

"Not so loud," she complains. She showed up last
night at my house absolutely out of her mind on coke so she must be nursing a
pretty wicked hangover. Not that I care at all how she's feeling right now.

"Why did my agent call me to congratulate me on my
engagement!" I fume, yanking the sheet off her.

"I'm sorry, okay? I was going to tell you last night,
but I was afraid you'd be mad."

"Damn straight I'm mad! What the hell were you
thinking? We're not engaged! We're not even exclusive!"

"Stop yelling, okay? My manager and publicist were
freaking out because sponsors were threatening to back out of my tour this summer
because of the whole DUI thing, and they needed a positive story to make it go
away. So I maybe told them that you popped the question. Everyone loves a love
story," she says, with a pleading smile.

"No. Absolutely not." I pick up her cell phone,
bedazzled with a silver cross on it, from the bedside table and toss it to her.
"Call your publicist and fix it."

Her eyes well up with tears. "Please, Hunter, if this
tour doesn't do well, my career could be over. There are so many other girls
just trying to take my spot, you have no idea of the pressure!"

"I know pressure. I have three hundred pound
linebackers trying to take me out every week. And I have never made up an
engagement."

"That's because you're so good, and honest, and
kind," she says, tears spilling down her cheeks as she tries to butter me
up. She slides over to me, making sure her naked breasts are well displayed.

"You're asking me to lie. To everyone."

"Only for a little! Just to take the heat off this DUI
story. Two months, tops."

"Two months?!"

"One month. And then I'll put out a story about how
amazing you are but you just care too much about the game to focus on a
relationship right now. People will love that. We'll both look great. This
could help you with endorsements and stuff!"

"I'm doing just fine."

She bursts into tears anew. "Please, Hunter, I'm
begging you. I know this has always been a casual thing but I can tell you're a
decent man. Please, please…" she trails off into sobs.

Shit. I can feel myself wanting to help her, and I can already
see what a pain in the ass this is going to be.

"One month exactly," I tell her firmly.

"Oh, thank you!" she says, springing up and
wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Wait," I tell her, holding up my hand. "I'm
not promising to be exclusive. We are in no way in a real relationship."

"Right, totally! But for it to work, for there to be
any point to this, you have to be really secretive when you sleep with other
women. Otherwise, the press will just call you a cheater and that will be bad
publicity for you."

"Good point. And when you put out your press release
about the break up, I better come off positively glowing."

"Of course! Don't worry about that." She squeals
and claps her hands together. "I'll take care of a ring, and maybe I'll
even get some of my girlfriends to go to a bridal salon with me. That would
make for some great paparazzi photos."

 I roll my eyes. "Jesus."

"And in the meantime, if there's absolutely anything I
can do for you, just let me know. And I do mean
anything
."

"You were pretty much up for anything before," I
tell her with a raised eyebrow.

Her full lips curl up into a smile. "You haven't seen
anything yet," she says, reaching for the zipper of my jeans.

Chapter 27

Britt

I watch Max play in the corner of the room with a set of
multi-colored blocks. My father sits next to me on the couch. He's regained
control of his right side, though he says he still feels some numbness now and
then and he tires easily.

"Aunt Paula is really supportive of me moving back
here," I tell him, keeping my voice low.

"Well, of course," my dad replies.

"Not of course, dad," I tell him gently. "She
helped me raise Max, and now I'm leaving. Max will really miss her, and she'll
miss him."

"Hm," my dad grunts shortly.

"I think you should give her another chance. You're
giving me one, and I really don't know what I would have done without her help.
She was...she was like a mom to me. I don't know what you think she's doing out
in Oregon, but I promise that she's really a good, kind person, not some
drug-crazed hippie or something."

There's a long pause. "I'll think about it," my
father says. A car door closes out front and I hear footfalls on the steps.

"You expecting someone?" I ask.

"Former player of mine. Needs some advice."

I jump up, then turn to fluff the couch pillows behind me as
though that's what I intended to do. "Oh? Who's that?"

"Hunter Phillips. Plays for the Titans now," he
says. I step toward the door, wondering if I should open it as I hear movement
just outside it, but then the knob turns and the door starts to open. I guess
Hunter and my father really are on close terms, if he just walks in like that.

I stand frozen in the middle of the room. The door opens as
if in slow motion and my heart races. Hunter walks in, nearly filling up the
doorframe as he passes through, and I have to force myself to breathe so that I
don't topple right over. Has he gotten taller? Can't be. His shoulders…they're
wider. He's even more muscular than he was before. He stops and stares at me,
looking dumbfounded.

"I didn't know you were here," he blurts out.

"Yes. Hello," I reply dumbly.

"I mean, Coach mentioned his daughter was coming to
town but I didn't realize you were already here," he clarifies, blinking,
and then looking down at the floor for a moment.

"I'm here," I reply, trying to take in every
detail of his face. His eyes are exactly the same. His cheekbones are a bit
more defined, and his light brown stubble is longer than he let it get in
college. He looks up at me with his sharp brown eyes, and it's my turn to look
down at the floor.

"I'm Hunter," he says, walking toward me and
extending his hand. I take it, and feel the same knee-weakening heat I felt
four years ago. "I don't know if you remember, but we had dinner here
once."

"That's right," my father says. "I forgot
you'd met. That time is a bit of a blur for me." I know he's talking about
the time around when I left, and there's an awkward pause.

The sound of a dropping block from the corner breaks the
silence. My head swivels to my son. Our son. Oh, boy. This is not going
according to plan.

Max is gaping up at Hunter, his little hand outstretched as
he clearly just dropped his toy upon realizing his favorite football player is
standing just steps away from him. I grin at him, my overwhelming feelings at
seeing Hunter taking a slight breather.

"This is my son, Max. He's a big fan," I tell
Hunter, who is staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

"Hunter?" Max says, taking a small step forward.
"From football?" The expression on Hunter's face is replaced by a
smile. Max has that effect on people.

"Yeah, from football," Hunter says, walking across
the room and kneeling in front of Max, though he still towers over him.

"Wow," Max says, his eyes bugging out of his head.
He reaches forward and places his hands on Hunter's legs. Toddlers don't really
understand boundaries. "You really good. Best."

"Thanks, Max. Do you like to play football, too?"

"Yeah," Max replies, nodding his little head
emphatically. I glance between the two of them. Father and son, interacting so
naturally. I take a deep breath to keep a grip on my emotions. They don't look
so similar that anyone could tell, right?

"Well, I need to go talk to your grandpa, okay
Max?"

"You play later?" Max asks.

"I think Hunter might be busy, honey," I jump in,
not wanting Hunter to feel like he's obligated. "You don't have to,"
I tell him.

"Maybe that's best," Hunter says, his expression
becoming more guarded again. He stands up.

"I'll take Max out back so you two can talk," I
tell them. Max begins to sniffle in protest, so I hurriedly scoop him up. I
know that once he sees his toys in the backward he'll get distracted and his
mood will pass.

I wish mine would so easily. At least all that Max wants
from me is to toss the little foam football back and forth with him. He doesn't
have the hand eye coordination to catch yet, but he has a strong arm, and he
gives catching his best shot, opening his arms wide and closing them at just the
wrong time.

I need to put Hunter behind me. He's engaged now, and I'm no
homewrecker.

Chapter 28

Hunter

I watch them from the window in the dining room. Coach said
he needed to take a nap, and I know I should just leave. I know I should, but
here I am, staring at Britt and her son as she tosses a ball back and forth
with him. A combination of resentment and longing stirs up inside me. She left
me high and dry with no explanation except that she needed to see more of the
world, and now it turns out all she did was go to Oregon and get knocked up.
It's not that I want her anymore, it's just that I never had any real closure.
My feet take me to the back door, and I walk outside.

"Yay!" Max exclaims as he sees me. I clap my hands
together.

"Right here, buddy!" He grins and throws the ball
as hard as he can. I have to reach up to grab it. "You've got a
cannon!"

"Cannon!" Max repeats happily.

"That means you have a strong arm," Britt fills
him in.

"Yeah!" Max agrees, and holds out his arms for the
ball. I toss it back lightly, but he seems like he hasn't gotten the hang of
catching yet.

"Maybe he's not a receiver," Britt says with a
smile. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She still looks exactly the
same. Maybe her hips are a little wider. Her hair is a bit shorter, just below
her shoulders, and some of the curl seems to have straightened out. Those
raspberry lips are the same though, and the blue eyes are just as arresting.

"Your dad says you were in Oregon?"

Britt nods. "With my aunt. My mom's sister."

"Oregon is where you had to go?" I ask, a slight
hint of bitterness tinging my voice.

Britt pauses, looking upset. "I...yes," she
finally says. "I never got a chance to say in person...I am sorry for
leaving like that, Hunter. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. I
hope you believe that."

"It was years ago. Water under the bridge," I say
with a shrug even as my chest hurts with that familiar pain that stayed for
months after she left.

"Good," she replies. "And
congratulations."

"Thanks," I reply automatically. "Wait, for
what?"

"Your engagement. She has a beautiful voice,"
Britt says, catching the ball that Max just threw at her.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, she does," I reply. Sometimes Allyson
plays her songs after we've fucked. It's not my kind of music, but she does
have a killer voice. "Thanks."

"Have you set a date?"

"Not yet," I reply. It would probably be safe for
me to set Britt straight, it's not like she has media connections, but there is
something satisfying about the woman who broke my heart thinking I'm engaged to
a hot celebrity. I know it's kind of fucked up, but I'm not a perfect person.

Max runs for a ball that got behind him and trips. Suddenly
an ear-splitting wail fills the air. Britt runs toward him, and I follow.

"You okay, honey?" Britt asks, turning him over.
There's a bleeding cut on his little knee from a rock in the grass.
"Ouch!" She scoops him up and cradles him in her arms. I feel a
strange sense of panic at the sound of his cries. "Let's get you cleaned
up."

Not knowing what else to do, I follow her into the house.
She takes him into the kitchen and sets him on the counter, then keeping one
hand on his shoulder, she reaches into a cabinet above the sink for a box of
Band-Aids and some disinfectant. I bounce from foot to foot, feeling useless.

"Anything I can do?" I offer.

"Grab me a paper towel. Maybe put a little water on
it," she says with a smile. How is she so calm? I dampen a paper towel and
hand it to her. She gently cleans the blood off his shin, and then dabs the
wound itself. "Another one?" I hand her a dry paper towel and she
puts the disinfectant on it, then gently touches the cut with it. "Almost
done, Max," she tells him soothingly. She opens the Band-Aid, and in one
smooth motions, fixes it over his cut. "There, see?" she says,
pointing to it. He glances down but doesn't stop crying. "He likes the
ones with Spiderman on it, but my dad doesn't have those," she tells me.

She leans forward and picks Max up, rubbing his back with
her palm. His sniffles lessen, but don't completely subside.

"Max, you want to play catch some more?" I ask. He
shakes his head no, and rubs his dripping nose with his hand. "You want
to...come see a game?" That gets his attention.

"Football game?" he asks, his voice trembling.

"Yeah, a football game that I'm playing in. Have you
ever seen a football game in person?" He shakes his head no, his tears
finally letting up. "You haven't? Well, if your mom says it's okay, you
can come on Sunday. We have a home game; I'll get you box seats," I add to
Britt.

"Mama? Please?" Max asks his mother.

"How could I say no?" she asks, smiling a little
ruefully. "Thanks," she adds in a whisper. We stand there for a
moment, and I feel the heat of her body as she stands just six inches away.
There's so much I want to ask her, so much more to say. Maybe too much. I don't
know where to start.

"He's a good kid," I finally say. She smiles, and
I feel like I'm back in college again.