I don’t getmuch sleep. But that’s not unusual for me. Instead, I lie there staring up at my blank ceiling with my head spinning, images of what my future could look like flicking through my mind like a movie. And for the first time in my life, there’s a woman who features in nearly all of them.
Of course, I barely know her. But that doesn’t matter. We might not have a future together; we might be completely incompatible. But we’re connected now, whether we like it or not.
She will be at my games because I have every intention of having my kid there in a little Vipers jersey with my name on his back. We’ll be at parent–teacher conferences because I want to be involved in what they’ll be learning. I’ll be at Christmas plays and sports games, recitals, and whatever else they might get involved with.
I might not have a lot of confidence in my abilities as a father, but I do know one thing: I’m going to try as hard as I can, because that little baby who didn’t ask to enter this world deserves everything. And Bea…yeah, she deserves a hell of a lot too, for not only growing my kid but also for putting up with me for the next eighteen years.
By the time the sun begins to rise the next morning, I’ve managed a few hours of sleep. It’s nowhere near enough, but without the physical toll that hockey takes on my body, followed by a night out to burn off that final bit of energy, I struggle to force myself to switch off.
I end up scrolling on my cell, and before I know what I’m doing, I’ve found The Bea Hive Salon page.
I scroll through, looking at all the photos of pretty nails and sleek hairstyles. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m looking at, but it seems impressive to me.
I might have grown up with a little sister, but she was more likely to be found shooting a puck into a goal or bouncing a ball around our driveway than painting her nails and curling her hair.
I pause on every image that has Bea in it. In every single one, she’s smiling so wide it makes my chest ache.
It’s a smile I haven’t seen in person in our handful of meetings, but I can’t deny that it’s one I want to experience. It lights up her entire face and makes her eyes twinkle. And that’s through a lens. I can only imagine how it might look in real life.
Once I get to the end of the page, I switch to the about section and take note of the opening times.
A smile twitches at my lips as I think about her being the kind of person who is always early for her shift. She seems to love her job way too much to be even a minute late. And this morning, she doesn’t have a car because we left it there last night.
I throw the covers off and swing my legs over the edge of the bed long before I’ve realized that I’ve made a decision.
I throw myself into the shower, brush my teeth, and pull on a pair of sweats and an LA Vipers T-shirt.
My hair is still wet as I grab my keys from the bowl in the hallway and head for the elevator.
In only minutes, I’m in my truck and heading across town to where I dropped her off last night. I make a quick diversion through a drive-thru coffee shop to grab some supplies before I pull up outside her building.
I look up at the modern building. It’s made up almost entirely of glass. The apartments must be flooded with natural light.
It suits her. The thought of her living in an apartment that lets the sunshine in from every angle makes a smile twitch at mylips. It’s not the kind of place I could ever imagine myself living in. I need shadows and darkness, but Bea? She’s all light and happiness.
Pulling my cell from the center console, I find her contact and tap to send her a message.
Rett: Good morning. I figured you needed a ride to work. I’m outside.
My thumb hovers over the send button as doubt floods through my mind.
What if she’s already left?
What if she doesn’t want to see me again so soon? She might have said she wanted me in our baby’s life, but she’s never specifically said she wants me in hers.
“Fuck,” I hiss, dragging my fingers through my hair.
This is why I don’t get involved with women.
They fuck with your head. Make you question yourself.
There are no expectations if all they’re getting from me is a handful of orgasms before we part ways. But this…this is so far out of my wheelhouse.
I’ve even bought her fucking coffee.
What is this woman doing to me?
I drag my hand down my face as I try to convince myself that it’s because of what Hailee said about fixing my reputation. But is that the only reason I’m here?
