Quarterback's Secret Baby(80)

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Too late how?"

"She got married last year - even invited me to the wedding. Everyone got a little tipsy and she basically told me everything. Because she could by then, you know? She wasn't in love with me anymore - not that I ever knew she was - she'd just gotten married. She was safe. She only told me the truth because she was safe. It's weird, I wanted to be pissed at her, you know? Like, how could she not know? But she didn't. She's not a bad person - she never once asked me for money, I did all that shit myself - she was just super-protective of her heart. Hard childhood, you know? Fucked her up a little, made it almost impossible to believe that anyone could truly love for her. Honestly, man, sometimes it's the people who seem the most together who are just a big mess of emotions on the inside."

I grabbed a beer bottle off the table and took a long, hard swig as my mind reeled. I didn't know if I wanted to believe what Jimmy was saying or not. On the one hand, if that was Tasha's deal, then there was still - maybe - some hope, right? On the other hand, he didn't know Tasha. Nothing about her said 'vulnerable.' Even in the NFL, it was rare to meet people as absolutely focused and responsible as her. And my friends were trying to make me feel better, weren't they? Maybe Jimmy was embellishing a little, to that end.

"You should at least talk to her, man. Just call her up, tell her how you feel." Adam said, to general nods of approval from the rest of them.

"Yeah," Jimmy agreed. "If you lay your cards out on the table and she tells you to fuck off, at least you know. Then you can move on. Because that's what you have to do at some point. Move on. You've got the whole smorgasbord of primo American babes who would kill to get with you, Barlow. If you waste your time pining away for some chick who doesn't even want to, you're gonna regret it."

That night, I went home and stared at Tasha's number on my cell phone for a long time. I didn't call her, because I'd had too many beers and even I knew calling her up and slurring down the phone about how I felt wasn't going to go down well. But a little Google wouldn't hurt, I told myself. There was basically nothing to be found, though. She wasn't too active on social media, never had been - too busy. All I could find was a comment she'd left on a friend's Facebook page over a year previously and a photo of her on the website of the law office where she worked. I stared at that photo for a long time, softened by the alcohol into allowing myself to really experience how much I missed her.

But I didn't call her. It was late summer, the new season started in September. And why didn't I call her? Cowardice, probably. If you tell someone how you feel, they might tell you they don't feel the same way. As far as I was concerned, that was exactly what would happen. But my friends were right - I didn't know. I had to know. If I did, even if it was bad news, then maybe, maybe, I could finally put Natasha Greeley into that box in my head marked 'the past' and move on. I'd have to go see her.

Training was intense by then - daily - often two or three sessions with different coaches and trainers. I did have a block of three days, though, right before our first game. It had to be then. I booked the flight online, before I had time to pussy out, and then sat back, staring the receipt in my inbox. No backing down now.





Chapter 29: Kaden


On September seventh, less than a week before I was due to fly back to Little Falls, Barry called. I was sitting out in my yard enjoying a single beer - we'd been told to cut out alcohol consumption entirely by that close to the season beginning - as the sun set, thinking to myself that maybe, maybe I could get used to life in Texas.

"Hey, Barry."

"Kaden."

I sat up a little straighter, taking note of the sharp tone in Barry's voice. "Is something wrong?"

"You tell me, Barlow."

I looked out across the park-like backyard and mentally ran through my to-do list, which as far as I knew I'd been keeping up with. "Nothing wrong here, Barry. Just relaxing with a beer. Only one beer, don't freak out."

"Maybe I should have had Hal Johnson call you."

"Who's Hal Johnson?" I asked, surmising that this call was probably just another small matter that Barry the control-freak was blowing up into a big deal.

"Your lawyer, Kaden. The head of your legal team. Remember him, the big guy with the crazy hair?"

I did not remember Hal Johnson, although apparently, we'd met before. "Nope," I told Barry. "I'm always meeting new people in suits, I can't keep track of them all. Why, what's the problem?"

"Seems you're not such a choirboy after all, Kaden. I wish you'd mentioned this to someone. This has the potential to become a rather large headache. For me, for the lawyers, but mostly, my man, for you."