Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Alex

"My friends, my boys, my brothers, in all senses of the term."

I look around the octagonal locker room, which gives me access to all my teammates. Everyone looks on as I stand in the middle of the room—not on the Knoxville Bears logo, because I'm not trying to mess up our chances of winning. While I'm not super stitious, I'm a little stitious, as Michael Scott would say. Even thinking of the great show The Office , that I binged with my girl, can't make my grin wider. It's as big as it'll ever get.

Elliot is having a boy.

My boy.

Fuck. My mom is going to call him Gordo .

Ah, I'll worry about that later.

When Coach steps into the room, he looks around and then at me. "Who in God's name allowed this idiot to speak?"

I laugh as I wag my finger at him. "Not even you, my surly Highlander coach, can mess with my mood!"

Laughter erupts as everyone razzes him, grinning back at me.

"As I was saying, my brothers, I have news. I have done God's work?—"

"Oh, for the love of Christ," Coach mutters.

"Yes, he was involved," I say, not missing a beat. "But I am proud to say that I, Alejandro Benito Cruz, who has been hit in the groin enough times to cause concern, has knocked up the gorgeous love of my life, and we are having…a boy."

I spread out my hands like I've just declared I am the king of the castle, and while Coach is still glaring at me, my brothers all cheer, congratulating me and grabbing their sticks to tap the carpet. Some of my teammates ask me who the mother is, but I don't answer, just grin. But most of the guys know. I hadn't been shy that I wanted Elliot and only Elliot before I went to the Assassins, so surely they can put two and two together. I grin widely, my heart about to explode in my chest. "But don't say anything to anyone. I gotta tell my mom, and my love has to meet her—after we win this game and then go kick the Griffins' asses!"

That gets more whoops and hollers and, of course, cackles, mostly from Coach. "Aye, gotta tell your mummy?"

"I do, and I'm probably going to get my ass whooped with a cocha since I waited so long to tell her."

Coach snorts, and in that way only he can do, he butchers the word cocha , adding a brogue to it that doesn't belong as he asks, "And what is a cocha ?"

"My mom's house shoe, the left one. I'm pretty sure she bought left ones in bulk to keep on hand to beat us with."

He smiles at that. "Maybe she'll let me borrow one."

"You can ask—after we win."

He pats my shoulder. "I will. So let's win, aye?"

"Aye," I agree, and he squeezes my shoulder.

As our eyes meet, I swear I see pride there, and it pulls at my chest.

"Congratulations, Cruz."

I beam, my chest feeling like it's going to crack open and my heart will come flying out with a sign that reads, "I'm having a boy!" I thought I wanted a girl, and maybe I did. Maybe I would be this proud and excited, no matter what. But fucking hell, I'm stoked. I'm going to be the dad my dad wasn't to me.

I'm going to be a dad my son is proud of and a man my woman wants by her side.

When Coach slaps me on the back, a little harder than necessary, I grin at him, and a smile plays on his lips. He won't let it shine, but it's there.

Coach loves me. Or tolerates me. Same thing, really.

As I make my way to my spot, the boys hug and slap hands with me, offering me their congratulations. I'm still on cloud nine from when we found out this morning. I feel kind of bad for not telling my mom yet, but I have faith she'll know by Saturday. When she called to wish me luck tonight, it took everything in me not to scream it at her, but I really want her to meet Elliot first. I want her to fall in love with her as I have before I drop the bomb she's pregnant with my baby. Mom'll be shocked at first, but then she'll be happy. My son will be her first grandson and fourth grandchild, but he'll be her favorite. Like me.

What? I'm the baby. Of course I'm her favorite.

I reach for one of my sticks, and as I assumed after the game the other night, it needs new tape. I check my other two sticks and decide they should get new tape too, which is good since I need something to keep me busy so I don't drive everyone crazy telling them about my son. People should watch out. I may become Alexander Hamilton and sing about my son for the next three minutes.

Or hour.

Now that I have the Hamilton soundtrack in my head, I head to the trainer's room to grab the new box of tape Elliot dropped off the other day. After nodding to the attendant and refraining from telling her I'm having a son, I grab my tape and head to the hall to tape my stick while I continue to hum.

I'm about to start rapping like a Frenchman when I hear my name.

"Cruz."

I look up from the piece of tape I'm about to cut to see that the person calling my name is none other than Dan Davenport.

Great.

Hesitantly, I give him a guarded grin, not as much on alert since I really don't need to watch what I say. Not saying that I would with Elliot here, but I'm a bit more restrained.

Somewhat.

"Mr. Davenport," I say slowly, my eyes on his as I tape my stick like a pro who doesn't need to watch himself do it.

It's all for show; I'll have to retape this sucker later.

"Do you have a moment?"

I stop and use my teeth to rip the tape before leaning the stick on the wall and tucking the tape into my pocket. "Of course."

I follow him into one of the side rooms that are usually used for promo storage, but it's also a spot I've cornered Elliot for a taste of her to tide me over. The thought of all the naughty things we did in here almost has me forgetting that I'm in here with my son's great-grandfather—my son will not call him Peepaw —and not the person of my endless desires.

I miss Elliot more than I did before I entered this room, as Dan shuts the door. He turns, his whole body giving away that he wants to be anywhere but here. His shoulders are back and taut, his breathing a bit labored, and I feel he wants to murder me. With his bare hands.

Bring it on, Peepaw.

Nothing is going to keep me from my woman or my son.

Not even death.

He takes a deep breath, and on the exhale, I hear a bit of a wheeze that I would suggest he get checked out if I weren't so ready for a fight. "You've told people about the baby?"

"I told my teammates about my son, yes," I correct, not looking away.

Something flashes in his eyes. Excitement? Longing? I don't know, but his eyes brighten a bit. "A boy." His words are a little breathy as he nods, looking away. I give him a moment before he asks, "Why haven't you told everyone that Elliot is the mother?"

"Because Elliot hasn't told anyone she's pregnant yet, and that's her truth to tell. I don't want my actions messing with her career."

He nods, his eyes scrutinizing me. As if I'm not good enough for Elliot. That's not his place to decide. "Elliot is my favorite," he says boldly. His voice is so full of emotion that I almost think he's about to start crying. "I was able to meet her as a newborn since my daughter needed money and used Elliot to get it out of me. I'm sure Elliot has told you about her history and all that, but it's in the past where it belongs."

I don't say a damn thing because I sure as hell don't want him to stop talking. Even a bit of information about my love's past is fodder I want to devour. Maybe it'll help me better understand why she is so mean to herself and won't allow herself to love me the way I know she does.

"The point is, I love Elliot more than I can even express. I wanted to protect her, but again, my daughter didn't permit me to once she got what she wanted." He takes another deep breath. "Elliot is a strong woman, brilliant and beautiful, and I wanted more for her than to get knocked up by a guy who's on his way out. Once more, I'll be losing her, and it's eating me alive."

His admission almost makes me feel bad for him. However, I can't help but feel like he thinks I'm not good enough.

"But I trust you," he says, surprising the fuck out of me. "You're a hard worker, smart, and fiercely protective of her. So much so that you don't think of yourself when it comes to her, and I want that for her. After everything she's gone through, I want her to be safe and cared for."

"Loved," I say, my throat closing with emotion. "Safe and loved." His eyes burn into mine as I clear my throat. "I get the feeling you think I just knocked her up and now I'm staying for the baby, but that's not the case. I love her, Dan. I've loved her for months, and I would take the little crumbs of love that she'd sprinkle my way. For a while, they were enough. But now, I want it all. I want all of her, forever. You'll never have to worry about her because I'd rather die than allow anything to happen to her." I shuffle my feet, feeling really exposed. "So yeah, get used to my face because I'm not going anywhere."

He nods slowly as silence fills the space around us. I don't look away from his pointed gaze, and I sure as shit don't cower. I mean what I say. I feel it in my bones. When he holds out his hand, I take it almost immediately. His voice gravelly, he says, "Then welcome to the family, Cr—I mean, Alex."

I shake his hand. "Thank you, Dan."

He drops my hand then and nods. "Have any idea how I get her to talk to me?"

"Food," I say with a grin. "Bring her food. She's really into grilled cheese right now."

Dan chuckles. "Thanks. And you'll protect her?"

"Without question," I say, with more emotion than I intended.

"And maybe marry her? Soon?"

"When she's ready."

"But you're ready?"

I smirk before rubbing my jaw. "I was ready the moment I came back and saw her trying to run away from me."

Dan smiles. "Good. Now go win for me."

I flash him a wide grin. "Sorry, sir, but I only win for Elliot now."