Page 36 of Tight End

“No offense, but he sounds like a dirtbag.”

“He is. I don’t think he gives a flying fuck about me, but if he’s ever at any games, I don’t want him to meet Oliver.”

“Why would he be at your games? Is he trying to make up for what he did?”

“God no.” My laugh is hollow, humorless. “I’m not sure he remembers I still exist. His real son, Anders, plays for Baltimore. He’s in the stands every time we play them. I know because they make sure to show the legend, Patrick Kingsley, every single fucking time he’s there.”

“Does your brother know about you and Dean?” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.

“No clue. I don’t think so, though. We’ve gone head-to-head on the field, and he’s never said a thing.” Not that there’s a lot of time to gossip with players from the other team during or between plays. There might be some time before and after the game, but I avoid anything Kingsley. Our father is always there, and I try to be where he’s not. “What about you? Your parents?”

“Well, I am the oldest of four girls. My parents are divorced, but trust me, that’s for the best. They’re total opposites, which is funny since they’re both lawyers.”

“Both of them?”

“Yep. Met in law school. My mom went into family law and my dad corporate. My dad is super laid-back, and my mom ...” She trails off, her fingers toying with the sheets between us. “She means well but tries to run my life. She hates that I’m doing anything aside from law. But it’s not forme. I tried. I took all the prelaw stuff in college, but never loved it. She hates yoga and is not so patiently waiting for me to fail.”

“Well, we’re not going to let that happen.”

She goes quiet, turning away from me to lie on her back before saying, “Thank you. It’ll be nice to have someone else on my side.”

“Of course.”

We descend into silence once again, and I stay on my side, listening to June’s breathing. Eventually it slows down and she falls asleep. I don’t. I toss and turn for hours, staring at her sleeping form, trying to shake the feeling that she’s mine, that having her here in my bed is right. I want to be there for her, encourage her, protect her. I want everything.

But I can’t have any of it.

June isn’t mine, and the sooner I can convince myself of that truth, the better off I’ll be.

Chapter Fourteen

Poppy changedthe name of the chat to Football Daddy’s Fan Club.

Poppy: Are we all watching the game today?

Poppy: This is wild. I can’t believe I’ve never watched a football game before.

Kinsley: I haven’t either and I feel like it’s a missed opportunity. Do you see all these tight pants?

June: OMG did you really change our name to that?

June: You did! You are the worst sister in history.

Poppy: You’re welcome. I’m just taking the initiative and doing something you wouldn’t have theballs to do.

Kinsley: Speaking of balls, have you seen the quarterback? Oh, and they had a close-up on a player named Bronson. Jesus H. Christ. I think I found a name for my new vibrator.

June: You name your vibrators?

Kinsley: Uhhhhhhh do you not? I can think of a few names for you to use.

June: Sadly all my toys are trapped in my apartment.

Poppy: Something we need to rectify immediately. Can you send me your temporary address please?

June: Did you see that play? It was something. They blew the whistle and everything.

Kinsley: To be fair they blow the whistle a lot.

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