"Listen up, young man-"

"My girl needs me." I head past him.

He grabs my arm. "You're walking out to see a piece of-"

I wrench free. "She is the woman I love. So show her some respect. She's pregnant." An ugly, raw sound breaks free. "Or was. She lost it. While I was on that field-"

Cursing, I turn away, head for the door. It takes me a second to see that my dad is following me. "I'll drive you," he says grimly.

"I don't need you to drive." But it hits me that I don't have a ride.

Something my dad knows, as well. Even so, he can't help but get a dig in. "Don't give a s.h.i.t what you think you need, son. I'm doing it." He sighs, as he holds the exit door open. "I'm going to see that you get to your girl safely. Now let's go."

Thirty-Four.

Gray

Stuck in the pa.s.senger seat of Dad's cushy rental sedan, I can barely sit still. My knee bounces, and I'm rocking back and forth as if the motion can somehow make the d.a.m.n car go faster. I should stop, but I can't. This traffic to get clear of the Super Dome is killing me. Not being with Ivy is killing me. Is she okay?

In my haste, I'd left my phone behind. I'm cursing myself now.

Pressing my fingers against my aching eyes, I try to focus on breathing. I need to calm before I totally lose it and end up kicking a hole through the floorboards.

"So it's true?" My father's gravelly voice cuts through the silence. "You're with Sean Mackenzie's oldest?"

"Ivy," I croak out. "Yeah." I don't ask how he knows. Gossip is a disease in football.

"Nice kid."

I glance at him, incredulous. But then shake my head. Of course Dad has met Ivy. She seems to know everyone in professional sports. He catches my look and shrugs. "Haven't seen her since she was a teenager. But she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Pretty too, in a subtle way."

I snort and grind my clenched fist against my mouth.

"And you love her?"

"I want to marry her." Not that he needs to know. But it feels good to say. Because nothing will change that truth.

Finally, traffic breaks, and he turns the car onto the main road. For some reason, I find myself looking at his hands. Those big hands that always felt like a hammer crashing into my skull when he'd cuff my head for some minor infraction. They look old now, the knuckles swollen, the skin spotted with age. A sick lurch goes through me.

I lean back, stare out the windows.

"It's been a long time since you've been home," Dad says in a low voice.

"I am home," I say. When he doesn't answer me, I glare at him. "Did you really think I'd ever come back?"

His profile is like granite. "Why wouldn't you?"

My laugh is bitter and short. "Here's a tip. You want your child to visit? You don't f.u.c.king beat his a.s.s when he's a defenseless kid. You don't let his older f.u.c.khead brothers beat his a.s.s." I'm yelling now, my voice ringing in the s.p.a.ce between us. "And you don't f.u.c.king leave him alone to take care of his dying mother."

Dad had been stoic until the mention of my mom. But his gaze slices to mine. Red flushes over his weathered cheeks. "First off, I never beat you. I pushed you to excel." At my ripe curse, he glares. "And look at you now. The best in your position. h.e.l.l if you won't be the number-one pick. That discipline helped forge you into a champion."

"I excelled due to innate talent and hard work. Not because you and Jonas and Leif whaled on me when I did something wrong."

His lips press together. For a long moment, he doesn't say a word. Which is fine by me.

"I didn't know how bad they'd gotten," he says finally, quietly. "I was just trying to do right by you. Make you tough."

"Well, brilliant. Only don't expect me to care." I lean my head against the window. Will this ride ever end? My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. I refuse to think about Ivy right now. Not in this car.

Again, my dad speaks. "I shouldn't have left you to deal with Liv."

Grinding my teeth to keep from shouting, I force a calm tone. "I didn't 'deal' with Mom. I was there for her. I wanted to be. I just didn't want to be the only one to do it." Something sticks in my throat, and I struggle to clear it. "I needed help. She needed her whole family, Dad."

He nods, concentrating on the road. "I know. I was wrong." His knuckles turn white. "I couldn't... I wasn't strong enough. But you were. You're the best of us, Gray."

His words sit like a stone on my chest. I say nothing.

"I'm proud of you, son."

"Because I win games." It's not even a question.

"No. I'm proud of my son. Of the man you've become." He turns a corner and we're pulling into the hotel's drive. Dad eased the car into a spot before looking at me. "And I'm sorry to hear about your loss."

My throat convulses, and I can barely nod. Ivy is in a room upstairs. Likely devastated. I am too, yet my legs are like lead. I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle.

"Gray," Dad says as I move to get out. His blue eyes, the exact color of mine, are rimmed in red. "I'll try to do better."

I don't really know what to say. That he cares ought to make me feel better. But I'm numb now. So I answer the only way I can. "Okay. Bye."

And then my thoughts turn to the person I love more than anything on earth.

My fingers are ice as I let myself into Ivy's room. I just want to get to her, but I'm a wreck, shaking and nauseous. My heart is thumping so hard, my breath so short, I'm afraid I might topple.

As soon as I enter, Mackenzie and Dr. Rakin stand and face me.

"Where is she?" I get out.

"Resting in the bedroom," Dr. Rakin says in a low voice. "I gave her some acetaminophen for the pain."

"How is she?" G.o.d, just let her be okay.

"As well as can be expected, Grayson," Dr. Rakin says. "Sporadic miscarriages during early pregnancy are not uncommon, and Ivy is young and healthy." Words I want to hear, but I know there's a huge difference between physically fine and mentally.

"Shouldn't she be in the hospital?" I press.

He doesn't meet my eyes. "There really isn't anything they can do for her."

It's a punch to my heart to hear that. But I nod.

"Just keep a look out for a fever or undue bleeding. I've said this to Miss Mackenzie, as well."

"Right." Stuffing my shaking hands as hard down into my jeans pockets as they'll go, I make myself ask the question I fear most. "Is it... Was it because-?" My throat closes in on me as my vision blurs. I blink rapidly. "We had s.e.x. Today. And-" s.h.i.t. I'm going to lose it. Ivy's dad is right here. He must f.u.c.king hate me. I hate me.

But Rakin shakes his head, his expression almost pitying. "No, son. Put that out of your mind. When a pregnancy aborts like this it's usually due to a chromosomal abnormality in the fetus."

Logically I know this. But I can't stop myself from thinking of how I slammed into Ivy. Taking her hard and fast, like a rutting b.a.s.t.a.r.d. My eye burn hot, p.r.i.c.kling. I draw in a shaking breath. "Okay. Right." I don't know where to look. "Thanks. For being there for her."

"Not a problem," Dr. Rakin answers. "I heard about the win. Excellent job, Gray."

I could give a s.h.i.t about the win right now. Ivy is in the other room. Waiting. I'm f.u.c.king weak-kneed and ready to bawl. The sense of loss guts me. I don't know what to do with that emotion now, or how to even handle it. Rakin is saying something about Ivy seeing her OB when she gets home. I nod, but my gaze turns to Mackenzie. He's been silent this whole time.

He's looking at me now, those thick black brows of his slanting over his eyes. I want to apologize to him. But he speaks first. "I'm sorry, son." He comes closer to me, and I suck in a sharp breath through my nostrils. His big hand lands on my shoulder. "I really am."

"Yeah," I croak. "Me too."

I turn my attention to the closed bedroom door, and move toward it but stop and look at Mackenzie. "I know you're Ivy's father, but don't ever keep something like this from me again."

He knows I mean it. I let him see the rage and fear I felt when I'd learned Ivy was hurting and I wasn't there for her.

Mackenzie gives me a tight nod. "Never again."

Thirty-Five.

Gray

Opening the door is hard. I don't want her to see me cry. I need to be strong for her. Yet my throat is working like a bellows, opening and closing. I take another breath and go inside.

She's in the center of the bed, curled up against the pillows, and wearing one of my team shirts. She looks fragile, defeated, her brown eyes huge in the oval of her pale face. My heart bleeds for her, a physical ache that has me leaning against the doorframe.

She meets my eyes and her lower lip wobbles. I think mine does too.

"Hey," I whisper.

"Hey," she gets out. And then bursts into choking tears.

Instantly, I go to her, toeing off my shoes as I move. My jeans come off next. Only then do I notice Fi sitting next to Ivy. She rises, leaving us, as I make it to Ivy's side. Without pause, I push aside the pillows and slide in behind Ivy. I'll be her pillow now. My legs ease around hers. Gently as I can, I scoop Ivy up and settle her in my lap, drawing the covers up high over us.

I rock her as she cries, my face burrowed into the crook of her neck so she can't see my tears. It takes me a moment to realize she's saying, "I'm sorry" over and over. My hands shake as I stroke her back, trying to calm her.

When she relaxes a little, I lean us back against the headboard. "Why are you sorry?"

Ivy's huge eyes find mine. "It's my fault."

I smooth her bangs back from her forehead. "How?"

"Gray..." Her fist clenches my shirt. "I..." She starts to cry again, a quiet roll of tears. "When I found out I was pregnant, I didn't want it. I was afraid, angry. What if...? I thought those horrible things..."

A sob leaves her.

I hug her close. "You're f.u.c.king human. That's all. You didn't make this happen. It just wasn't the right time, honey."

But she isn't listening. "And then I lost- And I feel so guilty. So...sad. It hurts, Gray."

"I know." I cup her head to my chest. "I know it does."

"I didn't want this to happen. No matter what I thought, I didn't want this." She sounds so broken, it kills me.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I should have been here. I should have been here."

"You were playing your game." Her voice is small against my skin. Guilty. "I told them not to get you."

"Yeah," I say, trying not to sound p.i.s.sed, because if I think about it, I will be. "We're going to have words about that later."

Ivy's head nods, but she grips me tighter. I reach past her and grab the tissue box someone left on the side of the bed. Ivy blows her nose, then settles back onto me.