Page 103 of Tight Spot

“Want to know a secret that only I know?”

“Absolutely,” I told him.

“See what Eden’s drinking?”

I found her next to Cole, talking to Sloane and Misty.

“Water,” I whispered and then gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. “Is she…?”

“Pregnant. Cole told me last week.”

“That’s wonderful! Why is she keeping it a secret?”

“Doesn’t want to take any fun away from Maggie and Davis or their wedding next week. Although if she’s not drinking at the reception, I figure that’ll give it away.”

“That’s awesome.” She’d told me about her and Cole’s past, the sadness of it, the difficulty in trusting anything good could happen to her again. Life was wild, and she’d had a hell of a ride to find her happiness. “I’m happy for them.”

“I want that,” Dawson murmured. “Want what they have. A home. A family, and I can say before I met you, before I let you walk away, I’d never once considered it. But with you, I can’t not think about it.”

Tears burned my eyes, and I spun and pressed my hand to his cheek, the coarseness of his stubble scratched against my palm. “I really think that’s all the talking we need to do.”

“Good. Then we have about three minutes left of our required time, and that’ll be done by the time we say our goodbyes, so how about we get on that.”

We were out the door three minutes later, exactly, the fastest I’d ever been able to say goodbye to my friends and Dawson.

But I had better things to do.

And hopefully, Dawson was thinking the same exact thing as me.

CHAPTER29

DAWSON

Iknew I wanted to be a professional football player since I was nine. I worked at it. Earned every accomplishment through high school, worked my ass off in college every week in practice, drills, and every Saturday, we took the field. When I went up for the draft, I knew my worth, knew exactly the kind of effort and results I’d put up for any team who took me. The night of the draft, I wasn’t worried. Wasn’t nervous. I sat in my chair and went halfway through the first round exactly like everyone had predicted.

The day I took the field for my very first official NFL practice, I was solid as steel.

Nerves and worry had never once had a place in my life.

Until Hailey. Until it came time to not fuck her over or be an ass. Until it came down to this moment, where she was holding my hand, unlocking her front door and leading us both inside, where we knew exactly how the night was going to end up.

God, I hoped like hell I made it good for her. Hoped like hell I was worth what she was about to give me. Hoped like hell she didn’t regret it.

I shut the door behind me. Locked it. The flick of the lock echoed like a gunshot through her darkened house. The only light on was above her kitchen island, two hanging pendant lights put off a light, warm glow.

Hailey’s eyes were on me. I could feel them staring. Watching. Waiting to see what I’d do next and over the last week, I’d determined to be the man she needed.

And right then, the man she needed was someone who was honest.

“I’m worried I’m either going to hurt you, or you’ll regret this someday.”

I expected a soft smile. Understanding.

What I got was Hailey, a grin stretching wide, amusement flaring in her blue eyes right before she busted out laughing.

“Dawson,” she finally managed in between laughs. “I’ve been waiting for this, not for twenty-four years, but ever since I sat across from you at that restaurant. Tonight, you proved with one hundred percent effort that I will never regret a single moment with you. And as far as hurting me, I’ve loved and enjoyed every single thing you’ve already done to me. How could you think this would be different?”

By the time she was done, she was in front of me. Hands pressed to my pecs. Her body was so close I could see nothing but her confidence and joy, and most of all, her trust. Her scent invaded me, straight to my marrow, that light, floral and citrus scent of hers I’d been smelling on my damn sheets and all over my house for the last week.

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