24. Valerie

24

VALERIE

I’m a child.

A jealous, petulant juvenile who doesn’t deserve to be called an adult.

The words became my silent mantra. I used them to chastise myself for my ridiculous behavior throughout the entire baseball game.

I’d gotten control of myself before I returned to my seat after rushing off. I smiled and cheered when appropriate. I laughed when Abby and Andy challenged me to a footrace like the one we saw during the seventh-inning stretch. And I answered Mr. and Mrs. Jones’ questions about growing up the daughter of a well-respected football coach.

From the outside, I seemed okay. But on the inside, I couldn’t shake my foul mood. And I only had my insecurity to blame.

Then again, my mother’s most recent texts certainly didn’t help.

When are you going to stop this nanny business and get a real job?

You’re wasting your potential! Employers aren’t going to look kindly on someone who is unemployed for months on end without an excuse.

You’re ruining your professional reputation!

I should’ve known better than to send her the picture of me and the twins in front of the Loons stadium. Thank God I didn’t send her the one that included Carter. She would’ve accused me of playing at a happy family, for sure.

Would she be wrong?

I ignore the thought.

My mom’s message wouldn’t have been as annoying if she hadn’t started the conversation by asking about my well-being. I’d been touched by the gesture. Sharon Williams isn’t known for small talk, and it meant a lot that she’d reach out. I thought she’d enjoy seeing the photo.

It was dumb of me.

All my mom cares about is image. I’ve known that for a while now. But as I sit on this ornate metal bench outside my hotel in Minnesota, I reread my mom’s last text and it strikes me just how obsessed she is with how the outside world perceives me and, by extension, her.

I sigh.

Despite all that, I do love my mom. I just struggle with how to balance how much I want her in my life with how shitty her disapproval makes me feel. It’s not something a child should ever have to deal with.

Just think about Abby and Andy…

My mood plummets even further when I think of the twins’ mother.

I can’t say for sure which is worse, an absent mother or a perpetually disapproving one.

Both suck.

But when I think of the disappointed tears I’ve witnessed since becoming the twins’ nanny, I think absent mothers are worse for little kids. Especially ones who dangle false hope in their adorable faces.

Even though my mother is a piece of work, I’m a grown woman. I shouldn’t have let her ruin my mood to the point where I lost all sense of reason and let myself feel jealous of Carter’s and Morgan’s friendship.

The two have known each other most of their lives. They’re bound to have inside jokes. That shouldn’t bother me. It never bothered me when I witnessed the same in past relationships.

But you didn’t like those guys as much as you like Carter Jones…

Ugh.

Like I said… I’m a child.

It doesn’t matter that Morgan is beautiful, funny, and a blast to be around. Carter is a stand-up guy. He’s not the womanizer I would expect a single, famous football star to be.

Being a father makes that difficult to do, but it wouldn’t be impossible. And yet, there’s nothing about Carter that gives the impression he would break my trust after we agreed to be exclusive.

All my insecure thoughts and feelings stem from my own mind. And I hate myself for it. I wish I could talk to Megan about how I’m feeling, but every time I pick up the phone to text her, I chicken out.

Carter and I agreed to take things slow. I’m not even sure if we should call one another our boyfriend or girlfriend at this point. It feels too early to discuss what’s going on between me and the football star. Megan knows we hooked up after my surprise birthday party, but I haven’t told her anything about what happened afterward. She doesn’t believe me when I say there’s nothing to tell, but she respects me enough not to pry.

Maybe I should tell my best friend everything. Megan knows me well. She could provide insight on how to handle this situation with my best interests in mind.

“Is this seat taken?”

My eyes fly up from where they’d been staring at the illuminated pizzeria sign across the street.

“Carter?” I blink in confusion. “What are you doing here?” I’d thought he’d joined Corey, Carlee, Morgan, and the rest of the Lonestars for a night out celebrating their World Series win.

“I was going to ask you the same question. Mind if I sit?” He lowers himself to the bench before I can reply.

I scooch to the side to give him room, but his massive thighs still brush against mine as he shifts to make himself comfortable. A car from the busy downtown street in front of us honks at one trying to merge into traffic from where it was parked on the side of the street.

“What are you doing out here?” He asks after several seconds of silence.

“The twins are spending the night in your parents’ room,” I say, wincing internally when I hear how defensive I sound. I came on this trip to look after the twins, but their grandparents didn’t hesitate when their grandchildren requested to have a slumber party in their room. I’d dropped them off an hour ago for a night of children’s movies and popcorn, and I’ve been punishing myself for my ridiculous behavior out here ever since.

“That’s not what I meant.” He frowns. “Did I do something? You’ve been acting off ever since the game.”

Lingering embarrassment for my behavior roars back to life, making my cheeks heat and my stomach twist. “No, you didn’t do anything.”

“Then why do I feel like I did?”

I exhale a heavy sigh. “Because I’m ridiculous.”

“What do you mean?”

I press my lips together and shake my head. Across the street, a blonde woman catches my attention. She’s wearing a tight red dress and sky-high heels. She’s lovely, but that’s not why I notice her. It’s the fact she’s staring right at me with what looks like a scowl. I have the odd sense that I’ve seen her before… but she’s too far away for me to confirm.

“Valerie?” Carter’s voice recaptures my attention.

I meet his eyes. His expression is open and filled with concern.

The urge to continue to lie and deny anything is wrong is strong, but that would just be continuing this immature behavior. Carter deserves better than that.

“I was jealous.” The words taste bitter as they roll off my tongue.

His forehead furrows. “Jealous?”

His genuine confusion makes me feel like even more of an idiot.

I look back across the street to give myself time to compose myself. The blonde woman is gone, but a group of laughing men and women stumbles past. It looks like they’re on their way to the bars located farther down the street. That’s where most of the Lonestars players went earlier this evening.

That’s where I thought Carter was when I came out here to wallow.

I inhale through my nostrils and confess, “I was jealous of you and Morgan.”

“What?” His voice cracks with a shocked laugh. “Really?”

I force my gaze back to him. “Yeah…”

Seeing I’m serious, his smile falls. “Valerie… Morgan is just a friend.”

“I know.” I shake my head, disgusted with myself. “You didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on me. I promise.”

“Well, I had to do something to make you feel this way.” He turns so his body is angled towards me. “Talk to me, Valerie.”

“I swear, it wasn’t you. This is all in my head.”

“What’s in your head?”

I chew the inside of my cheek, debating how to put my thoughts into words. “I guess seeing you so relaxed and joking with Morgan made me realize how on edge I’ve been when we’re together in public. We agreed not to tell the twins about us, and I still think that’s the right call, but being hyper-aware of how I interact with you is harder than I expected.”

When Carter and I spend time together once the twins are asleep, things are easy and natural. To hide our relationship in public is draining.

And depressing.

Especially when I see him sharing his wonderful personality with others.

“I don’t have feelings for anyone but you.” He takes my hand in his and runs his thumb over my knuckles. “I hope you know that.”

“I do.” It’s the truth. Carter’s not a player. This isn’t a game. What’s happening between us is real. “I just… I don’t know. I’m acting like an immature teenager who doesn’t want to share the boy she likes with anyone else.”

“Is that so bad?” He gives me his signature cheeky grin—the one that never fails to make my heart race and mood lighten. “I don’t exactly want to share you either.”

I exhale a half-hearted laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that. It’s not like I could meet anyone else even if I wanted to.”

I meant it as a joke, but a low growl sounds from Carter’s throat.

His grip tightens on my hand and he tugs me closer. My other hand presses against his chest to keep my balance.

Before I can say a word, he growls, “Just because we agreed to take things slow doesn’t mean I’m going to let you joke about finding someone else.”

My lips part in surprise.

I’ve never seen Carter like this.

He’s always been even-tempered. But there’s a dangerous gleam in his eye and, I’m not going to lie, I kind of like it.

I’m not a girl who wants her partner to be grouchy and possessive all the time, but there’s something appealing about a man as handsome and formidable as Carter Jones feeling that way about me.

It’s ego-stroking.

And a little intoxicating.

That’s the only explanation for why I suddenly feel the strong urge to say screw it to keeping our relationship a secret.

I want to straddle his lap and lock my lips with his to reassure myself that what we have is real. I want the reminder that I shouldn’t care what other relationships he has with other women. I’m the only one who gets to be with him like this.

Carter’s rich brown eyes search mine under the bright lights lining the street. They heat as he registers my desire. His lips slowly lift in a satisfied grin before he tilts my chin up and seals my lips with his.

The kiss is hardly the most passionate we’ve shared, but it’s by far the sweetest. The danger I’d sensed in Carter’s demeanor has given way to gentle affection. An affection that makes me think of the future—that makes me wonder if I’m being short-sighted in thinking our relationship can’t go anywhere.

And what? Give up your future to play mom to some other woman’s children?

The words belong to my mother. That’s not how I view Abby and Andy at all. But it doesn’t matter. The sweetness of the kiss sours.

I draw back gently. My heart squeezes when I watch Carter’s eyes slowly open and he smiles like a smitten teenager.

“I should go back to my room,” I murmur.

“I’ll join you.”

I caress the side of his face. “That’s probably not a good idea.” The twins are staying with their grandparents tonight, but I wouldn’t put it past them to knock on my door early in the morning to ask me to join them for breakfast.

He leans into my touch and sighs. “Are you sure?”

No.

“Yes.”

He nods and takes my hand from his face, kissing my fingers before lacing them with his. “Come on.” He stands and gently tugs on our hands. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

I stand. “Aren’t you going to go out with Corey and Carlee?”

“Nah. There are only three people I want to hang out with tonight, and they’re all staying in for the night.”

My heart swells, but it doesn’t stop me from hearing my mother’s negative voice once more.

Are you playing mommy dearest, now?

My gaze drops as we enter the hotel lobby. I gnaw on my bottom lip as fear after fear swirls in my mind.

I haven’t taken on a motherly role with the twins, but I can see how that would be easy to do even if I weren’t in a relationship with their father. But the fact I am forces me to acknowledge I’m walking a fine line here.

I care about Abby and Andy, but I’m not their mother. I don’t want to replace her. And the twins don’t want that either. They may have a strained relationship with her right now, but they still love her.

So what the hell are you doing putting yourself in the middle of this messy situation?

As much as I hate my mother’s criticisms, even those I create in my head, I have to admit the inner voice asks a good question.

My stomach churns with unease when I’m forced to admit that I have no idea what I’m doing or what this means for me and the man currently leading me to the elevator bay with a happy smile.

Carter cares about me, and I care about him. He’s the best man I’ve ever been with, but you know what sucks?

No matter how many times I remind myself how great Carter Jones is, I can’t shake the thought that our relationship is not built to last.

No matter how much I wish otherwise.