“He doesn’t trust relationships, but he wants a chance to be a father.”
My sister thought on that for a second. “Sounds like you have that in common.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, Franks. Kendra did a number on you, and it certainly didn’t help that some of the guys you’ve dated have been unappreciative of your intellect. I’m not sure of Jason’s situation, but I’ve heard he doesn’t get along with his dad, so maybe that factors into it somehow?”
Maybe. But I suspected something else with Jason. Something that stopped him from committing.
Not that I wanted him to commit to me. But if he wanted to be part of my baby’s life, I needed him to be serious about it.
“I get the impression that he’s interested in making the baby the old-fashioned way.”
“Bow chicka wow wow! Now we’re talking. And you’re worried about all the emotions wrapped up in that?”
“Yes? It’s sex with the purpose of creating a child. That seems highly emotional to me.”
Rosie blew out a breath. “But only if you let it be. It’s not like you have a thing for Jason, do you?”
“God no! But he is exceptionally attractive, more than I’m used to.” Or deserve. “However, we are not compatible in any way other than, perhaps, sexually. And even then, I can’t be sure.”
I had a pretty good idea, though.
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
I fall in love with him and then I have to see him—forever—because he’s the father of my child.
“The sex is terrible?”
Rosie chortled. “Better you know now instead of fantasizing about it and thinking you missed out.”
She had a point. Though I already knew: the sex would not be terrible.
Jason
* * *
Surrounded by Chicago Rebels players, Conor stood at the table in Pico’s, a Mexican restaurant we had found a couple of blocks from the hotel, and raised a glass.
“Here’s to a good game tomorrow, a hard-fought battle where the Motors set the tone for the rest of the season! AKA kick Rebels ass!”
I shared a quick glance with Hatch. “Why is he here again?”
My nephew squinted up at his baby brother. “Because he’s a Motors PSYOP. Everyone thinks he’s a goof when really, he’s a menace.”
Forward Cody Jacobs threw a balled-up napkin at Connie. “You’re the opposition! Why are we letting you make toasts?”
“Because I’m new to the league and you all think I’m the cutest motherfucker to ever walk this green earth.”
Peyton Bell, another of the Rebels forwards, shrugged. “He is kind of cute. Like a mascot.”
I pulled Conor down to the seat beside me. “Best not to outstay your welcome.”
“I could never.” He leaned over to lock eyes with his older brother, seated on my other side. “How’s your girl?”
“She’s good. Sent me a picture of her desk at the office.” Summer was a hockey stats nerd and had recently joined Lauren’s new sports talent agency as an analyst. Hatch showed us a photo of a desk in an office, but instead of folders and office equipment, there was a full-on cheese plate.
“Cheese?”
