Page 21 of Tight End

“Nothing about being a parent is easy, but it’s worth every damned second.” A slow smile spreads across his face, and, you know, I think he’s genuinely happy. And if you knew Gordon before Riley and their daughter Maxine came back into his life, he was an insufferable bastard. My friend, but no less an asshole. “And obviously as soon as you’re ready, we’re going to need to meet this little guy.”

Gunner nudges me. “When he comes to his first game, I’ll be sure to have a Rose jersey ready for him. We’ll make him a proper fan.”

“It’s bad enough Silas gave him a signed football.” I cross my arms and frown. “And I’m pretty sure he was hitting on June.”

“Which one was more offensive?”

Definitely him hitting on June. There has to be a ruleabout flirting with someone else’s baby mama. No, that sounds terrible. Mother of my child? I don’t know, that doesn’t sound great, either, although it’s technically correct. “Pretty sure they’re about equal.”

Gordon grunts, his brows shoot to his hairline, and the look he gives me makes it clear he thinks I’m full of shit. “Speaking of offensive, I was talking to your bosses earlier today, and it sounds like you’re going to be getting a Remington of your own. Hopefully for you, this one knows how to listen and follow rules.”

I can’t say I’m surprised. With his brother and sister both settling down in Nashville, I figured it was only a matter of time before the third Remington sibling started knocking on doors. At least he doesn’t seem like a total waste of space like a few of the trades they made last season.

“Any idea when this trade is supposed to come into fruition?” Speaking of waste of space—Gunner shifts, practically sitting in my lap, and I shove him off me. Sadly he doesn’t hit the floor, just rolls his eyes and repositions himself on the arm of my chair. There’s a perfectly good love seat on the other side of the room, but it’s close to Dean, so I guess it’s off-limits.

Not sure why those two hate each other, but they’re going to have to get over it. Especially now that Dean’s back in Nashville permanently.

“That’s a big word for a quarterback.” Dean’s eyes flit to Gunner, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Well, guess we’re not getting over it tonight.

“Fuck off,” Gunner spits out, grabbing the bowl of chips back off the table and shoving another handful in his mouth. His crunching is aggressive, but it’s probably better thanperpetuating this feud when we have a handful of guys showing up in the next fifteen minutes.

Gordon shrugs off his jacket, glancing quickly between the two of them before his gaze volleys back to me. “Sounds like it’ll happen in the next week or two.”

“Rhett know yet?” Rhett Remington is a hockey player for Gordon’s team, the Devils, and even though I deny it some days, he’s become a friend. But I doubt either Remington, Rhett or his brother Heath, knows for sure what’s going on. Usually they keep trades pretty quiet—even from the player—until the deal is finalized.

“No, and we’ll not be telling him tonight.” Gordon glances around the room, pointing at each one of us. “Pretty sure they weren’t supposed to tell me, but Noah is the owner with the big mouth and he let it slip after a second double shot of whiskey. He wants to make the playoffs this year.”

The owners want us to make the playoffs every year, so that’s nothing new, and they’re always making trades and behind-the-scenes deals. If my contract weren’t up this year, I wouldn’t be worried, but it is.

Dean huffs a quick laugh. “We all know football players can’t handle their whiskey.”

“You seem a little obsessed with football players.” Gunner winks, and of course it’s not an ordinary wink. He puts his whole face in it. Jesus. “Developing a new fetish?”

I lean my head back with a groan, letting the three of them bicker back and forth, and I pick up my phone to text June but see she sent me a few pictures. The first one is Oliver staring down a large orange cat June says belongs to her mother. I’m not sure who’s mad at whom, but neither of them looks particularly happy. The next one is Oliver holding an ice-cream cone, chocolate melted all over his hands and cheeks, a hugesmile on his face. He looks so happy. So carefree. I set that one as my screen saver.

But it’s the next one that has the guys fading into the background.

June is in a hospital bed, staring down in wonder at an infant in her arms, at our baby. Her cheeks are flush, her hair is wild around her head, but she looks beautiful. They look beautiful.

Had I not been such a selfish asshole, I could have been there for this moment. I wouldn’t have missed this. Fuck. I wouldn’t have missed so much.

June: I almost didn’t send the last one. I look terrible, but thought you should have his first picture.

Me: I love it.

Too much.

Me: And you look great. Radiant.

June: Now I know you’re full of

Me: I’m serious. I wish I could have been there for the both of you. I’m so sorry I missed it.

June: It’s not your fault. And I was terrible when I was in labor. I yelled at everyone. You would’ve been terrified.

Me: Nah, I’m a big boy.

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