Page 9 of I Got You

A jolt of heartache moves swiftly through my chest but settles right in the center. Taking the kids to see Dad is so hard. He’s nothing of the man he was even a few months ago. Hank and maybe Garrett are the ones who really have any memory of him in dad form. Working to help them maintain a relationship with a man who’s basically non-existent doesn’t seem to serve anyone positively.

“We’ll see, ok? For now, I think it’s best if we have some sweet dreams. Gwen said she’d take you to the park tomorrow, and I bet you’ll need lots of energy to keep up with the other kids.”

“Ok.” She smiles, and I kiss her forehead before turning out the light.

I check on the boys next door, tucking them in. I lean down to give Teddy a hug. “You smell like a man.”

“Maybe you should smash shaving cream into my face every night.” He grins his toothless grin.

“Maybe I should. Then, at least, you’ll smell clean.” I tickle him, and he squirms. “You’re the best, you know that.” I squeeze his foot and cross the small space to Garrett’s side. “What gross thing did you learn about tonight?”

“Did you know that the largest pimple in the world is called a carbuncle? It means coal.” Garrett removes his glasses and sets them on top of his book on the nightstand.

I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t think I want to know anymore.” The little Doogie Howser smiles. “I don’t know how you don’t have nightmares about giant pimples.”

“I do. The little fart across the room gives me nightmares every night.” The boys giggle, and I can’t help it either.

“You two get some sleep. I need to go find Hank and see if I can pry three words out of him.”

“We have to get him with shaving cream next time,” I hear Teddy whisper.

“Yeah, only if you have a death wish,” Garrett whispers back.

My smile remains as I find Hank scrounging around in the refrigerator. “How was studying?”

He shrugs his lean shoulders.

“How’s Sadie?” I try to sound casual, but one of these days, he’s going to get a clue about how sweet, cute, and smart she is. So far, he seems to only notice the shallow cheerleader types. The ones who don’t seem to mind that he doesn’t talk and only really like that he’s a freshman on the varsity soccer team.

“Fine.”

Exhausted with trying to make conversation with his grumpy ass, I cut to the chase. “Are you going to pass your test tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Well, don’t stay up too late. I want to see you start in that game in a couple weeks. I’m warming up my jersey and expecting you to kick some balls.”

At that, he gives me a smug smile and nods. “Ok.”

I pass the living room, ignoring the mess, heading down the hall to my room. After a quick shower and washing the shaving cream out of my hair, I also smell like a man. I inhale, not minding the smell, although I’d prefer it to belong to a real man who could wrap his arms around me and tell me that everything is going to be alright.

Ugh, like I have any time for a man. After throwing on a tank top and shorts, I climb up on my bed, that’s extra high thanks to the blissful pillow top. It’s like a cloud hovering off the floor. My king-size bed is massive compared to my five foot three, hundred and twenty-pound self. It’s the one thing I splurged on when we moved into the house, knowing if I was going to survive, I’d need the best possible sleep when I was afforded it.

I grab the remote and turn on SportsCenter. The chatter of the latest sports news is a massage for my tired and weary soul. It’s calming and familiar, and tonight, I want to zone out while I scroll my phone for a few minutes, but instead, I find myself googling Shane Carter.

When the man approached me, I knew exactly who he was. He was one of the best defensive ends in the NFL and had been for the past six or seven years. He played most of his career with the Carolina Breeze, but last season, he shattered his right knee, ending his career.

I’d seen Shane play on screen so many times. He was good. Crazy good. Definitely one of the best on defense, if not the best, the last couple of seasons. The Breeze were so close to making it to the Super Bowl. What I had not expected was the bear that came at me. Mr. Unsocial and Uptight. Mr. Too Handsome for all that arrogant grumpiness.

The screen on my phone fills with pictures of his dark hair, hazel eyes, and strong, scruffy jaw. He’s handsome. And yes, standing in front of me today with that broody scowl, he was a little too handsome…until his mouth opened. Then he was just a jerk.

As I scroll, most pictures are of him on the field, helmet at his side. Some press conference pictures, where I have no doubt he hardly said a word, looking good as ever. Damn him.

There were just a few pictures of him in a suit, all cleaned up on the red carpet with a model hanging off his arm. He doesn’t look overly affectionate standing next to her, but in his position, he likely didn’t need to. I’m certain he has women hanging on his every furrowed brow.

Why am I even looking at this?

I toss my phone down on the bed, not spending another second thinking about Shane Carter and how he assumed I was just some girl waiting for one of the players to notice me. Gross. Just some girl who couldn’t possibly know anything about football or, hell, anything worthwhile at all. Big dumb butthead.

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