8. Luke

EIGHT

LUKE

I go to the pantry and get one of the purees I bought yesterday for Robbie. Claudia told me he loved puree, from her limited experience, so I bought him every flavor they had at my favorite gourmet grocery store.

Bennett is plating the mashed potatoes and grilled chicken when he sees the glass container in my hand and frowns.

"What's that?"

"It's for Robbie." I show it to him, and he grimaces.

"Are you sure that's for kids?"

"Yes." I defend myself. "It says so right here." I point to the label. Bennett says nothing and goes back to plating everything. Lizzie and Robbie are both eyeing the food he made like it's their only salvation.

When he arrived with a chair and a huge diaper bag, I couldn't help but feel bad that I'd begged him to have lunch with us. It's clearly a circus to go anywhere with little kids, but Bennett looked calm as can be .

He's used to it, I bet.

I'll have to get used to it too. Which is... something. I take a deep breath. I know I'll have to assimilate the immense way in which my life has just changed, but this isn't the time. Especially not in front of Bennett.

I'm mortified by the way I blubbered all over him and wailed as if I were the one-year-old with gas I couldn't pass. I can't believe I basically blurted my whole life story to him like that when I've made sure ever since I left Tal to never speak about my homelife growing up.

Bennett just brings it out in me, I guess. The vulnerability, the honesty.

I'm not mad about it, only really perplexed at how easy talking to him so openly is. The downside of that is that now he can see how much of a mess I am.

If he didn't want anything to do with me before, when I didn't recognize him, he's sure as hell not going to want to go out on a date with me now.

Date?

What the hell? Where did that come from?

I turn to look at Bennett smiling at the kids as he puts both plates in front of them, and I know exactly where it came from. The man is gorgeous, obviously, but he's also so freaking kind and gentle. Clearly patient, since he's helping Robbie stick his fork in a tiny piece of chicken.

Of course I want to go on a date with him. It's the most logical thought I've had in the last two weeks, actually.

"C'mon, Luke," he calls out to me, and I hurry to sit with the three of them.

I look at Lizzie, eating with gusto and absolute focus, and I can't help but smile. Robbie's kinda getting the hang of the fork, and I let him play with the chicken and mashed potatoes—he gets about thirty percent of the food in his mouth—while I eat. When I'm done, I open the small container and dip the kids spoon inside it. Robbie opens his mouth excitedly, but he makes a disgusted face as soon as I pull the empty spoon back.

He coughs, spits everything out, and then wipes at his tongue with the palm of his hand for good measure.

I sit there, stunned at how much he hates what I just gave him. I look at the lid and see it's not out of date, then I taste it, and yeah. That's disgusting.

"You're right to spit that out, buddy. No one should have to eat that. It tastes like a fart, damn." Bennett bursts out laughing and so do the kids—though I'm pretty sure they're laughing only because he's laughing.

"Where did you buy that?" he demands between bouts of laughter.

I tell him about my gourmet store and that has his laughter turning into wheezing.

"Luke," he starts, but then a cackle resurfaces. "You can't be serious. You can't buy puree for a one-year-old there. You can buy fresh produce and make the puree on your own, that's fine. But you buy already made ones at Target."

I grimace. That doesn't sound so great.

"Or hell, any other normal grocery store. But Target is forever your best friend." I let out a tired breath.

"I really don't know what I'm doing. I just want to give him what he needs."

"That's you," Bennett says more seriously. He nudges the kids to keep eating then walks up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. The warmth from it spreads all over my chest. "The first and last thing Robbie needs is you. So you have to take care of yourself too. That means a lot of things, but first and foremost, time is now the most valuable thing you have. I said Target because you can get anything and everything there. You only have to go to one place and that's it. Now, what else do you need to be okay so you can take care of Robbie?"

I think about it seriously but can't think of an answer immediately, so I nod toward the table and push Bennett slightly, so he'll keep eating. I start to feed Robbie, so he actually eats enough, while I think about it some more.

I need my job, that's one.

Not only because it's what pays the bills—because technically, I could retire tomorrow—but also because it fulfills me. That sounds very spiritual and kind of whacky, but it's the only word I can think of to describe it.

Going to practice, studying tape, doing rep after rep, making adjustments with my guys at the line, even something as simple as putting on my jersey before every game.

All of it makes me feel alive and like I'm doing something that makes people happy.

Another thing that's made this off season so different to last year's is the routine of golfing with Rashan, Kevin, and Cameron at least four days every week.

My guys . . .

They've been blowing up my phone, and I haven't been able to answer—I don't know what to say.

What scares me the most isn't that they'll tell me I'm doomed or that I can't do it—I know logically they'd never say that even if they believe it, which I don't think they would either, I guess I'm just scared of the same thing that happened with Bennett—me losing it in front of him—happening with them. They don't need to see me like that .

The three of them are a big reason why I haven't had a mental breakdown the last few years. Their belief in me lifts me up, leaves me speechless most of the time, really, so I've never been able to thank them for that belief. But they also treat me like just one of the guys, which a lot of people at the Rogues don't do. A lot of people in Tal didn't either, and don't even get me started on how it was back in college.

I was revered in UCLA, no other way to describe it. I felt even more like a celebrity back then than I do now. I think that's thanks to my teammates. All of them, not only my three best friends. And Gab, of course.

She treats me like a friend's annoying kid more than anything. I love it. I'd never felt someone's reluctant and amused care before I met her.

So what do I need, to be well enough to take care of another human? And the thought of me taking care of a whole other person will never not make me break out in sweat, I'm pretty sure.

I need football, my friends, Gab, and... someone to rely on.

That someone could be Bennett.

Who the hell am I trying to convince?

He's already the person I rely on, even though I barely know him.

What I do know of him, though, makes me trust him implicitly. He's a single father, and he works for Gab—those are two things that already make him the most qualified human for the position as my pillar of strength—and the last thing he is, I have to admit even more reluctantly, is a years-long friend of Adam Darnell.

Gab's nephew and I have a strange relationship.

On the field we're always at odds, that's just the way it's been since the first time we faced off against each other my sophomore year of college .

Off the field, there's a lot of respect—from both sides I'm sure—and jokes. Little jabs and taunts.

He's also the only other quarterback that I've had an hours-long conversation with about the league, the game, the responsibility of leading a franchise, and hundreds of thousands—if not millions—of fans.

I can't say a bad thing about Adam, and so the fact that Bennett's his friend means Bennett is someone I can trust. Easy as that.

"I need to tell my friends," I say urgently.

Is it wrong that I want to avoid all thoughts of what Bennett is, what he's already become for me, while he's sitting in front of me?

I think it's only human. And if there's one thing I've learned about myself in the last couple of years, it's that I'm just a man. Nothing more.

"You haven't?" Bennett asks slowly, his face scrunched in a confused frown.

"No. I haven't had the time, but also, I have no idea how to explain it all to them." Bennett shifts his gaze to the kids—they're almost done with their food—but he makes me nervous when he doesn't say anything. And of course the only natural reaction to his silence is for me to babble again. "They don't know anything about my life before college. I don't think I've ever mentioned my father or my hometown to them. Though the fact that I grew up in Tal is common knowledge in the NFL, they don't know anything else."

"But they're your best friends," Bennett says slowly.

"I know." I sigh. "I just normally don't speak about it to anyone. Actually, not even Gab knows, though she helped me out when I got the call about Robbie. She let me use her plane and contacted a great family lawyer for me. But she didn't ask any questions. She heard my side of the phone call since I was with her, and I suppose she put it together with only that, but yeah..."

Bennett exhales sharply and looks at Lizzie, smiling brightly. "Okay then. Let's get these two cleaned up and settled so they can play or take a nap if they want to."

I spring into action and lift Robbie out of his highchair at the same time as Bennett lifts Lizzie. I copy everything he does, cleaning up Robbie's mouth, his hands, neck, and even his hair. Then I lead him to Robbie's still-in-progress nursery, and we settle both kids on the changing table.

They get new outfits and diapers, Lizzie's being a pull up, as Bennett explains how they're potty training already. And just the thought of having to teach Robbie how to go to the bathroom makes me dizzy, but I stay standing somehow and only let myself relax when the kids are in the playpen with a book. They're not reading, of course, but turning the pages filled with colorful drawings slowly as they look at everything.

Lizzie's a lot more expressive than Robbie, not only in words, though she can speak a lot more than Robbie, but in her gestures and faces. And it worries me.

Why is he so quiet?

"Okay then," Bennett says with a clap of his hands, and sits on the same couch where I fell asleep on him a couple of hours ago. I feel my cheeks heat at the reminder, but I try to ignore it and sit next to him. Once I'm situated, Bennett looks straight at me. "You need to tell your friends, Luke. They're your number one support now, and they need to know what's happening in order to help out when you need it. Today, you called me because you know I have a daughter, I'm guessing, but do any of your other friends have kids? "

"Yeah, Kevin has four. Him and his wife have always been amazing parents in my eyes."

"So why didn't you call him?"

"Well..." I trail off. I don't know if telling Bennett that calling Kevin didn't even cross my mind because I've been thinking about him nonstop for the last weeks is the way to go here. "You're a single parent, and now that I am too, I guess I just associated you with the situation." I shrug as if the fib is the simplest of truths.

"I guess that makes sense." Bennett lets out another huge sigh. "Then text them right now. Ask them if they can come over."

"Right now?" I ask, and there's no hiding the panic in my voice.

"Yes. The sooner it's done, the sooner you'll be able to relax." I guess he sees the doubt on my face because he gentles his tone and smiles softly before going on. "Sharing your past with someone, in my opinion, makes it less heavy. But I don't mean you have to tell them everything you told me before. You can tell them even more, or much less, that's your choice. You have to be comfortable to share it with them. But them knowing you're now the guardian of a little boy is important. Just that. So they know what you're going through, or at least part of it. If you really don't want to, then I'd say tell Gab, or hell, a therapist. It doesn't have to be them, but they're the first people you told me you wanted to know."

I take in every word like it's gospel. That might not be the healthiest thing, and no part of me thinks Bennett is the only human alive who knows what I need now that I'm a single parent. Millions do, probably.

But Bennett is the one in front of me. Bennett is the one willing to help.

I could've called Gab this morning, she raised twins by herself for fuck's sake, but I didn't. So I'm going to follow his advice, even if I'm still not sure how much I'll tell the guys yet.

"If any one of you says a single cuss word in this house you're getting thrown out, am I clear?" Three pairs of eyes blink owlishly at me. My friends are confused, and who could blame them? I've always been the one who cusses the most out of all of us.

"The fuck?" Cameron demands.

"That right there." I point a finger at his face. "That can't happen once you step foot inside, am I clear?"

"Okaaaay," he drawls.

"Luke," Kevin says with gravity. "What's going on?" I see the worry in his eyes and it makes me feel like shit. I haven't been answering his texts, honestly haven't even read them.

"I'll explain everything if you come inside, and don't curse ." I give Cameron a withering stare and he only smirks at me.

"Whatever you need," Rashan says with a decisive nod. I can always depend on my best wide receiver to take things seriously. He's a hard worker, and that includes friendships.

I nod and open the door wider. As predicted, all three of them stop dead, and stare open mouthed at the playpen where Robbie is fast asleep and Lizzie is playing with his green car.

"C'mon." I nudge Cameron to keep walking.

That's when I guess he sees Bennett, and he turns to look at me. "Man, you got a boyfriend and didn't tell us until you two multiplied?"

A snicker leaves my lips despite my best intentions. The man is so unserious .

"No," I say with my lips still twitching.

"That's Bennett, he's one of Darnell's friends from college." They all nod like it makes sense for me to know him. "The adorable little girl over there is Lizzie, his daughter. And the sleeping boy is my brother." I make an involuntary pause for effect, since I have to take a deep, steadying breath. "His name is Robbie and I met him two weeks ago."

"Now I understand why you told us we couldn't curse," Kevin says with a nod, and a deep breath that's just as shaky as mine. "I want to curse at you a lot for not telling us this was happening before today." He glares at me, but it's not too heated since he turns away after a few more seconds to look at Robbie. "Yeah, he looks just like you," he mumbles, and strides off to the kitchen.

Cameron and Rashan stare at me the whole time it takes Kevin to come back with five beers in hand. He passes them around, going to Bennett, shaking his hand and handing him the last one before sitting on the couch and smiling down at the kids.

I try not to shift on my feet too much at my friends' scrutinizing gazes, but it's hard.

"There's a lot I have to explain." I sit on Bennett's other side and take a deep breath once everyone is sitting as well.

"So my dad was a big ol' piece of... poopoo." As far as starts go, that's not too bad, I think.

Robbie wakes up with a wail when I'm halfway through the story, and Bennett waves me off when I go to pick him up.

"How about I change him and then take both of them for a walk?" I can see in his eyes that he's really asking whether I still need his support while I talk to my friends. I smile at him, actually relaxed—not just pretending—and nod.

"That's perfect actually, thanks so much."

Bennett smiles back at me. Is he a little proud or am I just imagining things?

Once I'm done with the story, ending on today when Bennett came over, there's a deafening silence for an eternal minute.

"So your ex married your deadbeat dad, had a kid with him, fucked off, hit a lady with her car, is on the run, then your dad sued her, then he died, then your ex's dad called you because he's sick, and that's why you have a kid now. Huh. I'd think you were on drugs if I didn't know you so well." Cameron's smile is reassuring and gentle as he pats my arm. "You're a good man, Riggs. Inviting the sheriff to come live with y'all was a nice gesture."

"Yeah." Rashan interrupts. "When's he getting here?"

"He has to pack up his house, talk to his doctors, and quit the job he's had for about two decades, so it's going to take some time."

I see them nod or take another sip of their beers, and even if they don't say one single thing more, a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Just by telling them what's been happening.

Weird.

I mean, I still feel exceptionally unqualified to be responsible for a whole other human, but I do feel better.

So basically, Bennett's a genius.

That's good to know before I ask him out on a date. How am I going to find the time to go out with him on a date?

"What's up with Bennett, though?" Cameron asks, looking confused.

"He's the first person you thought of calling, even though I have kids too?" Kevin points out unhelpfully, with a raised eyebrow and a shit-eating grin.

I guess I don't need to come out to my friends then.

Is this the world we live in now? I wish it were for everyone, as much as I'm grateful it's this simple for me.

I don't know if I'm ready to tell them about my thoughts on sex or more like my experience and why Marcy hates me so much, but telling them I'm more attracted to Bennett than I've ever been to anyone else is something at least.

"The man's gorgeous," I say, with a lovesick sigh I should find embarrassing, but don't. They all smile at me.

"Man." Cameron shakes his head. "If I'd known you were into dudes too, I would've had like ten more people for you to meet."

"How did you know, just now?"

Kevin snorts. "You looked at him like he was the eighth wonder of the world when we came in, when he got up. Basically, every five seconds you turned to look at him. And he is a good-looking dude, no doubt, but we're all good looking and I've never seen you gawk at anyone—woman or man—like that before."

"The bone structure on the dude is insane. His face is perfectly symmetrical." Rashan nods wisely.

I see Cameron and Kevin's faces scrunch up with confusion and I know mine's doing the same.

"Bone structure? Symmetrical? Why didn't I know you're a beautician or something?" Cameron asks. It's also a serious question.

"I'm not, but Julie loves modeling reality shows. You know, the top model ones? We watch it together."

I let out a snicker, but it's not mocking, it's more... giddy.

"Whatever you call it, he's gorgeous. I don't think he'd ever want to date me though. "

"Why do you think that?" Cameron asks, then drains the last of his beer.

"I kinda didn't recognize him when I saw him before everything with Robbie happened. Turns out I met him a year ago at Darnell's bachelor party, but he looked different, and you know I was barely existing back then. But I apologized and he accepted, and I asked for his number."

"Look at you." Cameron punches my shoulder lightly and smirks at me.

"I don't think he took it as me asking for his number to ask him out, though."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because I said some stupid shi—stuff about taking him to lunch with my friends so he could get to know more people here in Vegas."

"Can you blame the man, then? You gotta be clear with your intentions, Riggs." Kevin has his serious face on and I can't help but smile.

"I know." My smile disappears with the realization.

"I don't think it's a good idea to start anything up right now, though."

"Why the hell not?" Rashan demands.

"I just finally got Robbie here, and Gordon's gonna move in any day now. You really think he's gonna sign up for that. Hell, that anyone would?"

"The man's a single father and he came running the second you called. That alone means you have a shot. So take the shot. You're never going to not be a parent. Ever again, Luke." Kevin's tone gentles at the end.

"I know that, but having some time to get my feet under me can't be too bad, right? "

That only makes my center laugh. "Dude, you have a kid now. You're literally never going to get your feet under you. If you find a way, you better tell me, 'cause Laura and I have been looking for it for a damn decade."

"That's . . . intense."

"Yeah, being a parent is intense. It's never going away. It's the best thing ever but it's also damn hard. It's worry and compassion and frustration. It's devastating and the best thing I'll ever be, but I'll never stop being my kids' dad, you know? I can see you're already taking it seriously, and I can tell you honestly I've never been prouder of you for stepping up like you did, but I gotta prepare you. Having a partner is... I don't know how single parents do it, I really don't, but I'm not telling you to ask the man on a date only so you're not doing this alone. I swear I'm not. I'm telling you he's obviously aware of what you're going through and is still here. He's the first person to really turn your head in years, so why would you hold back? What do you have to lose?"

I can't find the words to answer him anyway, but Cameron pipes in either way.

"I'm not a dad, obviously. I'm not even someone's, like, ‘official' partner, but I agree with Kevin. The way you stepped up for your little bro tells me everything I already knew about what kind of man you are. You're not a ‘wait and see' kind of guy, Riggs. You always go for it. So I say, go for it."

The front door slams right when he says the last word, and I don't want to make Bennett uncomfortable in any way, so I only nod at my friends and stand to go see how Robbie's doing.