Page 108 of Pieces

“Okay, as awesome as my brother is…” Quinn smiles, turning to my girl. “How are you feeling, Daphne?”

She rubs her small bump. “Pretty good. Hungry a lot of the time, but so is Hudson, so it works out well for us.”

“You’re in the second trimester now, right?”

“Almost twenty weeks now,” she says.

Quinn’s face lights up. “It’s going by so fast. You’re halfway there.”

“Quinn has been obsessing over the baby shower. Her and Liv are a force to be reckoned with,” Miles laughs.

Quinn waves him off. “Listen, it’s going to be epic. Speaking of”—she leans forward—“I was thinking, baby shower during the day, then we roll into a birthday dinner for Hudson that night. It’s his birthday a few days later anyway.”

Seb laughs. “Double cake, that’s like Hudson’s dream scenario.”

I grin, draping an arm over Daphne’s shoulders. “Double cake and my girlfriend? Fuck yes.”

Daphne smiles up at me. “I love that idea.”

Quinn claps in delight, and the gang continues their scrapbooking and chatting. Daphne opens her book to start working on it, pulling out a few polaroids from New Years we spent together.

“You’ve got training today, right?” Daphne asks, eyes flicking over the photos.

I nod. “Yeah, no rest for the wicked, even in the off season.”

My thumb grazes over a particular picture, one of us kissing. I don’t remember who took it, but the way my hand is cradling her face, the way she’s leaning into me, I need it for my scrapbook. “Can I have this one?”

She glances at the photo, and her lips curve. “Only if you trade me for one of us last week.”

I smirk. “Deal.” I slide her the photo she wants, and she tapes it down immediately. Her fingers smooth over the page as she turns to me. “So, I think my dad will want to talk to you today. He texted me this morning, checking you were going to be at training.”

My eyes lift to hers, nerves zipping through me. “Yeah?”

“I think he wants to check in. Probably apologize, finally.”

I nod. “I want to talk to him.” Truth is, I’ve been waiting for that conversation since Christmas, expecting something to ping on my phone from him, for him to ask me to meet him, but it never came. We’ve been on break sure, and post season training only starts this week, but it feels like the same quiet distance is between us. I’ve been hoping he’ll see how serious I am, how much I care about Daphne, the baby. The fact that nothing’s changed in these few weeks has left me more frustrated than I’ll admit.

Something flickers in Daphne’s expression, annoyance, maybe disappointment, and I quickly brush my finger under her chin. “He’s not going to scare me off, you know.”

Her shoulders ease slightly. “I know,” she says. “I just want everything to be okay.”

“It will be,” I reassure her. And I meant it. If she’s good with her dad, that’s what matters most. Even if my own nerves twist quietly beneath the surface, I can handle it. As long as she’s happy too.

***

Coach’s voice cuts through again. “Let’s go! Line up for conditioning drills!”

We’re back at it, running plays and running out of breath, until every muscle in my body feels like it’s about to give out. It’s been a usual practice, nothing happened when I was called first for drills, and I can admit that I deflated a little.

When Coach finally calls it, I drop onto the grass and stare up at the sky, trying to catch my breath.

“Hudson,” Coach says, standing over me. His tone is quieter now, which immediately gets my attention.

“Yeah, Coach?” I sit up, looking at him trying to read his face but it’s his usual cool mask he wears.

Then I notice it. Subtle but it’s there. He shifts his weight like he’s working up to something. “Can I talk to you for a second? Walk with me.”

I grab my stuff and follow him off the field, feeling a little uneasy. I meant what I said to Daphne earlier I’m not bailing, but still, he’s my Coach and her dad.

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