Page 23 of Tight End

Jacob: I was tempted to get one for myself.

Jacob: Any idea what size he wears? I’d guess 4T but I can grab a few things up and down a size just in case.

Me: That’s fine. Just grab a handful of things and once I know his size, we can get more.

Me: I know he has clothes and stuff at his mom’s place, but I want him to feel at home here too.

Jacob: Don’t worry. Your little man is going to love his room at your place.

Me: You sound sure of yourself.

Jacob: So sure I’m going to give myself a raise on your behalf.

Jacob: How do we feel about a play tent and fairy lights?

Me: You’re kidding right?

Me: That’s obviously a yes.

Jacob: Got a stack of books for him and one for you. Grumpy Monkey. Seemed like something you might find useful.

Me: Thanks

Me: Don’t worry about that raise. You won’t need it.

Jacob: It’s okay, I bought myself a dino light. Oh, and thanks for the gourmet breakfast. It was great.

Me: Remind me why I don’t fire you.

Jacob: Because I’m out buying stuff for your son and didn’t ask any questions.

Jacob: And you like my protein shakes and turkey meatballs.

Me: Got me there.

I do like his meatballs, and I especially like the fact that he operates very discreetly. He’s fast, efficient, and unlike my last assistant, nothing gets leaked to the gossip magazines. My last one would’ve had at least two tabloid reporters tailing my car, which would not be helpful this morning.

They’ll eventually find out I have a son, and I’m sure after that they’ll be sniffing around my building and staking out home games. But until then, I’d rather this stay between June and me. Especially until we figure things out with him.

I still have to convince her I’m all in, and that would be a lot harder with reporters shoving a microphone in her face.

Just as I’m about to fire off another message to Jacob, I glance at the time and halle-fucking-lujah. Class should begetting out any minute now. Wait. Correction. The front door is opening. Class is getting out now.

I slink down, grabbing a baseball hat from the passenger seat, and put it on, watching for June and Oliver like a creeper. They don’t come out with the rest of the crowd, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to sit in my car and wait any longer. I’ve been as patient as can be.

I’m a football player, not a saint.

After adjusting the brim of my hat, I grab the bouquet of flowers and Oliver’s gift, and I’m out of the car and across the street at lightning speed. My heart thuds, getting faster and faster with every step.

When I first found out about Oliver, I was scared about so many things. Hell, I still am. But I’m in. I’m invested. I may have no idea what being a parent is going to be like, but I’m excited to start my journey, to prove to myself that I’m nothing like my dad and to show my boy all the love he’ll ever need. I can do this. I can be a dad.

I’m about to open the door to the studio when it flies open and June nearly crashes into my chest. She’s so close, she almost gets a face full of flowers. Actually I’m not so sure she didn’t.

June grabs onto my shoulder with her free hand, her eyes widening as she takes me in. “Holy shi—shoot. Ryan, you’re here early.”

She has no idea. “Yeah. I, uh ...”

June takes a step back, putting Oliver down on the ground, and holy fuck. I really need to start doing yoga or something. At the very least, I need to volunteer to be a waterboy for some of her classes.

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