Dating the Defensive Back (The Nash Brothers Book 1)
Chapter 52

The Absolute Worst Possible Thing

He’s angry, and I get it.

He has every right to be. The absolute worst possible thing in his eyes is more secrets and lies. It took a long time to get past that first one, and I finally felt like we were in a place where he trusted me—where we’d make it through anything because our feelings would be enough.

I should’ve put the box under the sink, but I haven’t been back to the house in weeks. I did a little research and learned a good chunk of women don’t get their period at all with the birth control shot. I’m guessing I fall into that percentage given that I don’t feel like I’m pregnant.

I should take the test just to rule it out.

But does it matter now?

He made his feelings clear. I suppose it’s not the fact that I might be pregnant or the commitment factor. It’s the fact that as he sees it, I’m keeping something else from him.

I get that he’s sensitive about the whole thing, and maybe I should’ve just told him about the test and my fear and all of it. He’s probably right about that. How are we going to have a future together if we can’t talk about these sorts of things?

Emotions are high tonight, and he overreacted. By morning, he’ll cool down. We’ll talk it through, and we’ll get back on the same page again.

We have to. I gave him my full honesty when I told him I wasn’t ready to lose him. I know his instinct is to run. I know his instinct is to fuck things up. This is him putting up a shield, and it’s up to me to help him work through that so we can come out on the other side stronger than ever.

Only…that’s not what happens.

I give him time to cool down before I head up to bed, but he’s not actually in bed. I’m not sure where he is at all. I’m not even sure if he’s still at home.

The bedroom—our bedroom—is dark and quiet, and I lay there wondering if having a pregnancy test on my bathroom counter that isn’t even mine is really going to be the thing that breaks us.

As ridiculous as it sounds…it is.

I get up way too early after a restless night’s sleep.

Or, not completely restless, I suppose.

I fell asleep crying, and I woke with a nightmare at some point. I never fell back asleep after that.

When I open the bedroom door before my shower with the hope of running into him, I replace suitcases with all my hanger clothes stacked on top of them just outside the door.

Does this mean he still wants me to move in with him? Or was he simply emptying out his car?

I head down to the kitchen and replace him there.

He’s grabbing something from the fridge and wearing his workout gear, and I can’t help as my eyes dart to his calves.

Damn, he’s in good shape.

I force that thought to the back of my mind. “Morning,” I say quietly.

He spins around at the sound of my voice. “Hey,” he grunts.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

“I need to get to the gym.”

“Thanks for all my stuff.”

“You’re welcome.” His words are stilted and cold.

I press my lips together. “Are you okay?” It’s not what I want to ask. Are we okay seems like the more appropriate question.

“No.”

“Because of the box of tests that aren’t even mine?”

He shakes his head, and he moves to walk past me. “I said I need to get to the gym.”

“You’re just going to walk away? After everything we’ve been through? Grayson, I love you. That has to count for something.” I’m begging, and my voice is desperate, but I guess when you’re pushed up against a wall, you’ll do whatever it takes to hold onto the one you love.

He slams his Gatorade on the counter. “It’s not the fucking box, Ava. It’s what that box means. When was the last time you were at that house?”

I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. A couple weeks?”

“Exactly. So you’ve been thinking about this…this…this thing for a couple weeks all by yourself when you could’ve talked to me about it. It’s a thing that affects me, too, deeply, but you chose not to say anything. And that’s…that’s just bullshit.” He shakes his head. “Secrets tore my parents’ marriage apart, and that’s why I had a hard time at first with the ones you kept from me. Okay? And seeing that box there…yeah. I jumped to conclusions. My first thought was that you were lying to me. That you were keeping something from me. You know what that tells me?”

He stares at me for just a beat that isn’t long enough for me to respond.

“It tells me that I don’t fully trust you.” He sighs. “And you know what? I don’t know if I fully trust anybody. Maybe this is a me problem. I need to work it out. But I have a season coming up with a new team, and I have to prepare for it. I can’t have all these distractions when I need to focus. I have shit to do, and worrying about what secrets and lies you’re keeping from me next isn’t on that list.”

He grabs his Gatorade and storms out of the room as I stand staring after him, and I hear the door slam to signify that he just left.

If the worst possible thing for him was more secrets even though I still don’t feel like I was actually keeping one, the worst thing for me is that feeling of abandonment.

Of course he left.

He was always meant to.

He admitted he fucks up everything good, and I’m so leave-able that he decided to run at the first sign of trouble when it wasn’t even actual trouble.

I fall to the floor in a heap as I start to cry.

Eventually, I pick myself up because I have to. I have a full schedule today, but also…I will replace a way to fix this. I have to. He’s worth it. We are worth it. He’s just angry right now, and he’s trying to focus on the season, and the only version of him I’ve ever known in season was back in high school. The stakes weren’t very high back then, and I was too young to care about the game.

I force myself into the shower. It’s one task at a time. Shampoo my hair. Wash my body. Get ready for my day.

I’m putting in a half day at the bakery so I can get back here to tackle the pastries ahead of this Friday’s event, and even at work, I’m just going through the motions.

I head back to the house I’ve lived in with Kelly for the last three years, and I replace her in the kitchen as she empties the shelves, stacking everything on the counter for the two of us to sort through.

She can have it all. I don’t need it since Grayson’s place has all this stuff, but am I still welcome there?

We didn’t get to that part of the conversation.

He wouldn’t just kick me out on my ass, would he?

If he did…then I guess I would need this stuff.

“You should take it all,” I say, and she jumps when she hears my voice.

“Oh!” she gasps as she turns to face me.

“I’m sorry. You okay?”

She nods, and I move in to help her empty another cabinet.

“How’d it go with Austin?”

She clears her throat. “It was…okay. Better than I expected, I guess. I’m still moving to Louisiana, so it’s not like he made some big play to get me to stay so we could raise the baby together and have our own happily ever after.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he wants to be part of the baby’s life, and he will do what he can to help me financially.” She shrugs. “He didn’t say he wants to be part of my life, though.”

“Do you want him to be?”

She snags her lip between her teeth. “I’m not sure. He didn’t say he didn’t want that, but I don’t know.”

“That’s not a no,” I point out.

She shakes her head. “No, it isn’t. I don’t like what he did to Grayson. I think he has some growing up to do, and maybe once he does that, there might be a chance for us.”

I reach around her and squeeze her in a side hug. “You’re really the best. Do you know that? You are going to be the best mom ever.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs. She shakes her head a little. “What about you? How’s everything?”

I sigh as I set down a stack of bowls and back up until I’m leaning on the island. I shake my head a little. “Not great.”

“Why not?” She pushes some dishes out of the way then lifts herself up to perch on the counter opposite me.

“He saw the box of pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter, and I think we’re breaking up.” My voice cracks at the end.

She gasps. “Because of the pregnancy tests?”

I lift a shoulder as I swipe away an errant tear. “He says no, that it’s because I kept another secret from him.”

“What secret did you keep?” she asks, her brows drawing together.

“The fact that I was worried I might be pregnant when you said you were.”

“Oh, God. I feel like this is my fault.”

I hop down off the counter and squeeze her arm. “It’s not. At all. It’s his issues. I think the idea of commitment and babies and love—everything, all of it…it’s freaking him out, so he’s running scared. He’s saying he’s got a season to focus on and doesn’t need these distractions, and now I’m halfway moved out of here, and all my stuff is at his place. I have no idea if I’m even still welcome there, but then he set my stuff outside the bedroom door last night. It’s so confusing and conflicting.” I shrug at the end.

“Did you ever take the test?” she asks softly.

I press my lips together and shake my head.

“You got your period?”

I shake my head again.

“Do you want to?”

“In my heart, I know it’s negative. But, yeah, I guess I should.” I glance toward the bathroom, and it feels like the clock of doom is ticking.

“I’m right here, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

I head to the bathroom, read through the directions, and take the test, and then I call her in.

“Is it done already?” she asks.

I shake my head. “No, but I need moral support while I wait.”

“I set a timer and walked away,” she admits.

“Well, I’m planning to stare at it until I have an answer.”

She giggles, and that’s always been the difference between us. She has patience. I do not.

I don’t want to wait for Grayson to figure out that we belong together.

But maybe I need to take a page from Kelly’s book and give him the time and space he needs to work through this.

I watch the control line as it turns a pale pink.

I wait to see if another line appears. It doesn’t.

“Yours was really obvious, right?” I ask.

She nods. “I mean…I waited the full three minutes, but yeah. Two pink lines.”

“How long has it been?”

“You didn’t look at the clock?” she asks.

“No! I was too busy peeing on a stick!”

She giggles even though it’s not very funny. “No idea. Thirty seconds, maybe? A minute?”

I blow out a breath. “Fine. Can you set a timer for two more minutes?”

“Of course I can.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, and we watch the two minutes tick down. The pale pink of the control line deepens a little darker, but no second line appears.

The timer ticks down to zero, and her phone quacks.

“Seriously? A duck?” I ask.

“I use the timer a lot in my classroom, and the kids respond to the quack.”

“You’re a quack,” I say, and we both giggle.

“And you’re not pregnant. Will this ease Grayson’s worries?”

“Not likely.” I snap a photo of the negative test. “But at least I have evidence to show him he has nothing to freak out about.”

I’m not really all that sure it matters at this point. He’s beyond the point of being rational, and even though I want to fight for him anyway—for us and for the future where we stand together watching this same kind of test but hoping for a different outcome—I’m not sure it’s a fight I have any chance of winning.