He nods and runs his hand over his jaw, which is sporting at least three days’ worth of stubble.
“I didn’t think anything of it. I’m Riva’s godfather. The fun uncle. And I’m f—” He glances at the sleeping baby, then corrects himself. “I’m darn good at it. I spoil my niece rotten. I figured I could do that again. Send ridiculous gifts on her birthday, dump a bunch of money into a college fund.”
His big hands tighten on the sheet, and the soft fabric looks like he could tear it without trying.
“He never mentioned putting me in their will as her guardian.” When his eyes meet mine, the devastation in them knocks me back a step. “Why would he?” His voice is so quiet it’s like he’s asking himself more than me. “They were young and healthy, and…”
“What happened?” I whisper, because I have to know. And asmuch as I have to know, I get the feeling Felix needs to talk about it. He might not want to, but he needs to.
“It was a car accident,” he says, turning away to fit the sheet around the thin mattress. “They’d gone out to dinner for their anniversary.”
“Was Ellie?—”
“No.” He cuts me off. “She was at home with a babysitter. One of the other teachers at the elementary school where Troy worked.” His head tips back and he stares at the ceiling for a moment like he’s replaying a scene that haunts him even though he didn’t actually witness it. “Troy ran off the road. It was raining, and he’d had a few drinks at dinner. His blood alcohol level was above the legal limit. He took a turn too fast and overcorrected when the car started to skid. They went over an embankment, and the car flipped.” He shakes his head like he still can’t believe it. “Both he and Julie died on impact. They didn’t suffer.”
The room falls silent except for Ellie’s soft breathing against my shoulder. Felix smooths the sheet one more time, then straightens up, his hands hanging helpless at his sides.
“So she’s yours,” I say softly.
He lets out a dull laugh. “For now. I’m looking for other relatives. Troy grew up in the foster system, and Julie’s mom died a few years ago. She didn’t know her dad. But there might be cousins, aunts, uncles. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing with kids and wants her.”
“Right.” The word comes out sharper than I intended. “Because you don’t want kids.”
His eyes snap to mine. “You can’t seriously believe I’m the right person to raise her?”
“Your friend Troy believed in you.”
“He was wrong.”
My hand unconsciously drifts to my stomach before I catch myself. “So you’re just...what? Playing house until you can pawn heroff?”
“That’s not what this is.” He runs both hands through his hair, making it stick up in ways that shouldn’t be adorable but somehow are. “I want to do the right thing for Ellie. Troy trusted me with his daughter. I can’t fail him again.”
“Again?”
He looks away. “I should have been there more. I got caught up in the whole NFL machine. I let our friendship slide. He never held it against me, but I did. I do. And now...” He gestures helplessly at the child sleeping in my arms. “Now I have to figure out how to take care of his little girl until I can find her a real family. She deserves to be loved the way Troy and Julie would have.”
“Does anyone else know?” I ask, shifting Ellie’s weight as she burrows deeper into my neck.
“No.” The admission seems to cost him something. “Not even Ian and Sadie.”
That stops me cold. “You haven’t told your brother or my sister?”
“I couldn’t. Not yet. Ian would try to fix it. And Sadie...” He shrugs. “Sadie would mother hen me to death. I needed some time to figure this out on my own.”
“Except you’re not on your own,” I point out. “I’m here.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t exactly the plan either.”
A yawn escapes before I can stop it, and Felix steps forward, already reaching for Ellie.
“Here, give her to me. You should get some sleep.”
Our hands brush as we transfer the sleeping child, and I swear I feel that same electric jolt I felt that night in Denver that led to the secret I’m carrying. Felix must feel it too because his eyes darken, his gaze dropping to my lips for just a moment.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, and the sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. “For helping. For not running screaming when you found us.”
“Yeah, well.” I take a step back, needing distance between usbefore I do something stupid. Like tell him the truth. Or kiss him. Maybe both. “I’ve always been a sucker for kids.”
