Page 20 of Tight End

My breaths come faster and faster. My fingers tighten around the phone, cutting off the blood supply to my fingertips,but I hardly notice. Who needs fingers anyway? Especially when my heart is thumping faster than the drums fromJumanji.

The room spins around me ... or is it me? Am I spinning? Why is it getting dark in here? Why can’t I fucking breathe?

I jump, almost falling backward as two hands clamp down on my shoulders. “Jesus, Ryan. Sit down.” Dean? When did he get here? “Big breath in. Let it out. One more.”

With a faint nod, I comply, letting the three of them guide me to a nearby chair. I slouch down, letting my head fall back and my phone land in my lap. Eventually the room comes into focus and my heart no longer feels like it’s going to bust out of my chest.

Holy fuck.

That came from the other side of the field and slapped me right across the face. I haven’t had an attack like that since ... well, since the one and only day I actually talked to my dad. Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. Dean was there for that too. It was his first time coming back to Nashville after he left for college.

He crouches in front of me, studying my face, his brows scrunched together like I’m a problem to be solved. “What the fuck was that? Are you okay?”

I should be okay, I should be great. It’s not like this news is a huge surprise. After spending time with Oliver, I knew he was my son. I was sure of it. But this? This makes it fucking real. It’s right there in black and white. There’s no denying it. There’s no taking it back.It’s real.

Oliver is mine.

“I’m good. Must’ve been something I ate.” I try to push up from the recliner, but Dean is quick to push me back down.

“Nice try, bro.”

Gunner sits on the arm of the chair, crunching loudly as he shovels a handful of chips in his mouth. “Why don’t you try that again?”

After taking a deep breath and then another, I run my hands through my hair and down my face. While I might have told my mom about Oliver, I’m not ready to share that information with everyone. But I know these guys, and they’re my family for better or worse.

I glance at Gordon, standing rigid behind Dean, still in his suit, his arms crossed as he stares down at me. If anyone is going to understand, it’s him. He went through something similar earlier this year, and fuck me, I couldn’t imagine missing eleven years of Oliver’s life. I commiserated with him when he found out, but I really didn’t get it. I didn’t understand the full gravity of what he actually felt.

Well, I sure as fuck do now.

“I have a son.”

None of these guys are known for being quiet or reserved, but I swear you could hear a pin drop in my penthouse right now. Dean opens his mouth but promptly closes it, Gordon loosens his tie with a sigh, and Gunner’s mouth drops open, letting a chip roll down his shirt.

I get it. I’m not seeing anyone—haven’t for a while—so I’m sure they’re trying to do the math, figure out when and who I could’ve knocked up.

“He’s three.” I pick up my phone, staring at the results for several seconds, before I fill them in on the past couple of days—everything from running into June to the email that came through just a few minutes ago. They ask a few questions but are content to stay quiet and let me word vomit everything.

When I’m done, Gordon flings himself down onto my couch with another sigh, pulling off his tie and tossing it on the table in front of him. Gunner grunts and resumes eating like I just told him I bought a new pair of shoes. And Dean ... Dean’s looking at me with so much disappointment written across his face.

“Dude.” He shakes his head, pushing himself from the ground and pacing the length of my living room. “Were you not careful? Fuck me, Ryan, I’d think you of all people would try to avoid impregnating random women you meet at football games.”

“I was careful. I’m always careful, but sometimes things fucking happen. As much as we like to think we’re good, nothing is a hundred percent effective. Did you give this lecture to Gordon?”

“Gordon’s not my brother. And Riley was his high school sweetheart, not some random-ass woman he met at a bar. I think there’s a little bit of a difference between a woman he was with for years and one you spent five seconds with.”

This is where I’d love to stand up and tell him he’s wrong, that June wasn’t just some random woman in a bar, but she was. She may feel different, she might feel like more, but she’s not. “Fuck off. It’s not like I asked for this to happen. You think I want to be like him? You think I want that?”

“I don’t know, Ryan. I don’t fucking know.” He sighs, rubbing a hand across his chin and sitting down on the other end of the couch. “Look, I’m sorry. I just ... it’s him, you know. The last thing I want is for you to leave a kid without a father. You’re better than that, you’re better than him.”

Gunner puts the near-empty bowl of chips on the coffee table, muttering, “Better than you, asshole.”

“I’m not walking away from June or Oliver.” I ignoreGunner and lean forward, holding Dean’s eyes. If he doesn’t believe my words, he’ll see the truth written across my face. “He deserves a dad who loves him, who shows up, and I’m going to try my best to be that guy.” I shift my gaze to Gordon. “If you’ve got any advice, I’d love to hear it.”

And I would. After talking to my mom, I feel better, more confident, but I’m still terrified. If I’m honest, I probably will be for a while.

Gordon huffs a laugh, a sardonic one. “For one, be glad Oliver is only three and there’s a good chance he won’t remember you not being there. Two, there is no secret formula, no rules to follow. None of us know what we’re doing. You can’t dwell on the years you missed, the firsts you couldn’t see, but you can make new memories with him. Be there when he falls, listen when he talks, and love him unconditionally.”

“It’s that easy, huh?”

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