Page 40 of About That Night

“How much is what?”

“Football. Let me help you.”

“Hank, you don’t have to do that,” she says immediately.

“No, I don’t have to. I want to.”

“But you told me you’ve put everything you have into your restaurant.”

“I have money for pee wee football.” I’ve put a lot into Conviction, but I wouldn’t have taken the risk if I thought it would fail. I have backup savings. I also have something she doesn’t—a family who has my back no matter what.

I’ve been inside Chastity’s apartment briefly. It’s bare bones. Thrifted furniture and only the essentials. She’s so capable that I forget sometimes she’s only twenty-three.

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t. I want to help because you’re an amazing mother. And playing a sport is great for a kid. I was the quarterback, and look how awesome I turned out,” I tell her with a grin. “Friends help friends.”

Her face softens. She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’re a good friend, Hank. Thank you.”

I want to be more than her friend. And for once in my life, I’m not talking about sex.

But if this is what she wants right now—us to be just friends—I’ll take what she’s willing to give. Because I like Chastity as a person, and being her friend is filling a void in my life I didn’t even know existed.

“You’re a good friend, too,” I tell her. “The best.”

The look on her face is sweet, appreciative. She’s beautiful, inside and out. I want to kiss her. I want to tell her that I want her to date me, not random Chads and Brads. But that‘s an impulse move. This is too important to just blurt out something she will probably perceive as me trying to get in her pants.

So I keep my mouth shut.

Because I’m as mature as fuck these days. A whole grown-ass man opening a business and willing to be patient to get what I want until the timing is right.

I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I can’t tell if she is just grateful for my friendship or if she wishes it were more too.

It makes me stand up so I don’t say anything else. “Josiah, why don’t you throw the ball to me?” I call out.

“Okay!” He lobs the ball in my general direction, and it goes about two feet.

I jog over and squat down next to him. “Do you have a favorite football player?”

He thinks about it, but then just shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“My favorite player is my brother, Cash.” I pull my phone out and find Cash’s team pic. “This is him. He plays in Nashville.”

“He’s big,” Josiah says. “Like a bear.”

That makes me laugh. “He is like a bear. And just as hairy.” Which isn’t true at all, but it makes Josiah laugh riotously, and the sound of this kid’s giggle is like unearthing gold. He’s a great kid, and that’s all thanks to Chastity.

“Come on, I’m going to show you some tricks for throwing the ball.”

We go through some basic moves, and I try to make it fun and silly and casual. I chase him. He chases me. I let him tackle me.

It’s when I’m on the ground, thirty-five pounds of preschooler crushing my lungs as I tickle him, that I glance over and see Chastity. She’s smiling.

That’s some fucking gold right there too.

Josiah bounces on me. “I got you!”

“Oof,” I tell him as his palms press into me like he’s doing chest compressions. This kid has some power behind his push for being four. “You’ve definitely got me.”

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