Hard Pass (Saints of Love Book 3) Read online

  “Nice thought, but you’re about as coordinated as a one-legged ballerina.” Her lips curve into a smile. “I’ve seen some of your best plays, Anderson, and at your best, you still couldn’t hang on this field. Stick to the pigskin.”

  “Challenge accepted.”

  “So, for real.” Her eyes flick behind me, and then on either side of me. “How is it that I’ve managed to avoid you for five years, and now, all of a sudden, I’m seeing you everywhere? Are you stalking me or something?”

  “Nah, Princess.” My eyes run over her. In a bad hair day hat, oversized long sleeved shirt that hangs down over one shoulder, leggings and converse, she’s dressed more casually than I’ve seen her since finding her again. And it might be my most favorite look. Only Gia can make a t-shirt and ball cap look sexy as fuck. “It’s just your luck, I guess.”

  “My luck he says.” She smirks. “Still as full of yourself as ever, I see.”

  “I like to keep things the same, ya know?” I wink at her. “No sense in changing perfection.”

  A little girl comes running across the field, pulling Gia’s attention away from me.

  “Mommy!” The little girl beams up at her. “Did you see my goal?”

  “I did.” They high five. “It was awesome.”

  “Yeah. Their goalie was an asshole, though. She told me that my kick sucked.”

  “Little miss!” Gia’s mouth drops open. I just chuckle. I know, I know. I’m not supposed to laugh when a little kid swears but come on. That shit is always funny.

  “Watch your mouth!”

  I shouldn’t be surprised that Gia has a kid. After all, the first place that I saw her was at an elementary school auction. But the sight of her kid does something to me that I’m not prepared for. It makes me…jealous. The feeling takes me by surprise. I haven’t been jealous of anyone or anything in a long time. Sure, I’ve felt jealousy in my lifetime. I had nothing growing up and was surrounded by kids who had everything. I’ve experienced my fair share of the dreaded green emotion, but I’ve never felt it quite like this. Gia’s daughter is a stark reminder that after I left, Gia moved on, and started a life with Cole. A life that didn’t include me. I can’t help but wonder if she ever thought about me. The next moment answers that question.

  “Sorry, Mom.” Her little face falls. “But Daddy told me to call people as I see them, and that girl is an…”

  “Delilah,” Gia’s voice is firm. “Watch yourself.”

  Delilah.

  The name alone sends be flying back in my memory to the days that I spent in high school with Gia. The sun shining down on my face, while that song played in the background. Me singing it to her, her staring up at me with her eyes huge and filled with…I shake my head. Running through my memory reel right now is the last thing that I should be doing.

  Delilah turns her eyes to me, the strange man standing next to her mom. She looks me up and down, as a kid does, taking note of my character and judging me hard without even asking a single question.

  “You’re that underwear guy.” Damn if she doesn’t look just like Gia. Even the way that she narrows her brows as she looks at me is identical to her mom. Gia’s hand flies to her face as she shakes her head.

  “Delilah, this is Wyatt.” She motions towards me. “Wyatt, my daughter Delilah.”

  “Hi Delilah.” I lift my hand in a wave. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She blinks up at me with her huge blue, almond shaped eyes. Her lashes are thick and long, identical to Gia’s. The kids going to be a knockout when she’s older. Mark my words.

  She nibbles on her lower lip. “My mom said that you had to start taking pictures in your undies because you couldn’t cut it as a quarterback. Is that true?”

  Gia shoves money into her daughter’s hand and jerks her finger in the direction of the concession stand, where Damien is just now starting to walk towards us.

  “Delilah. Concession stand. Now.”

  The kid shrugs and trots off, clutching the money tightly inside of her little hand. When my eyes land back on Gia, she’s blushing furiously.

  “Wyatt, I’m sorry. Kids you know? They just say the most random things.”

  “Yeah.” My eyes flick across hers. Random, alright. “So, you named your kid Delilah?”

  Is it my imagination, or does her blush deepen?

  “Yes.” Her smile falters and she pulls her eyes away from mine. “It’s a good name.”

  “Cole didn’t care that you named your daughter after our song?”

  “I didn’t…” She’s blushing furiously now and stumbling over her words. I shouldn’t get satisfaction over this, but I totally do. I’ll admit it. She has fucking thought about me.

  “It’s fine, Princess.” My gaze levels with hers. “I’ve thought about you over the years, too.”

  Her spine straightens and her eyes lock with mine. “You have? Weird. I’ve avoided your career like the plague, but I did happen to catch an interview once. You blatantly told a reporter that you’d never been in love. Forgive me for assuming that means I wasn’t worthy of flashing across that thick skull of yours.”

  The air stills. I’m painfully aware of how many people are milling around behind us, parents packing up their bag chairs and blankets while out of control kids zoom past us. But the way that it feels, standing here with her, makes it seem as if we’re the only two people in the world.

  She rushes on before I manage to find the right words to say.

  “It’s fine, though. No worries, Wyatt. And Cole’s grandmother is named Delilah. Her name had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

  I stare at her, trying to figure out if she’s lying to me or not. She was always the shittiest liar. She’s either telling the truth, or she’s perfected the art over the years. I guess her kids name will just have to be one of life’s greatest mysteries.

  “Well, while we’re on the subject of clearing up fake news, for the record, I’m modeling compression shorts on those billboards, not underwear. And another bit of information, I’m not bent over playing wide receiver anymore. Coach was right. I wasn’t going to make it to the pros as a quarterback. Being a wide receiver has panned out quite well, actually.”

  The fact that Gia saw my billboards and talked shit about me to her daughter bothers me more than it should.

  “She was just repeating what I had said to her. I shouldn’t have told her those things, and I’m sorry, Wyatt. It’s just…” She twists her hands in front of her. “We didn’t really leave on good terms, you know? That still doesn’t excuse it…”

  “It’s all good, Gia.” Damien’s pockets are shoved full of candy as he comes to a stop next to me.

  “Hi, Mrs. Richards.” He beams at her. “Is Delilah here?”

  “She just went to the concession stand.” I nod my head towards where he just came from. “You literally just missed her.”

  “Well, I see that you guys have already met.” I pat the top of his head. “I told you about my buddy Damien, right?”

  Gia nods.

  “He’s the reason for our chance encounters. I’m definitely not stalking you, Princess.” But fuck if I don’t want to.

  “Cool.” Gia’s smile is genuine as she glances between the two of us. “Well, I should go and hurry Delilah along. Otherwise, she’ll hold up the whole line. That girl can never make a decision.”

  Sounds familiar.

  “Bye, Mrs. Richards.” Damien waves to her. “Tell Delilah that I’ll see her at the birthday party.”

  Gia waves goodbye and we finish our trek to the car. Once we’re safe inside, I turn to him.

  “So, Delilah is going to be at this party?”

  Damien nods as he continues to eat his snacks.

  “You think her mom will be at the party, too?”

  He shakes his head.

  “No way. The birthday party is for Aubrey Mitchell. Her aunt and Delilah’s mom don’t like each other. Delilah said that her dad is bringing her.”

 
“Delilah’s dad?” My interest is peaked. “His name is Cole, right?

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs, obviously annoyed that my questions are making him pause in between bites of candy. “I call him Mr. Richards.”

  I drive down the two track that leads back to the road, my nerves over attending this party now at an all-time high. Cole Richards is the last person that I want to run into. Honestly, if I never saw the guy again it would be too soon.

  The guys always had a hard on when it came to me, even before we added Gia to the mix. He never let a moment pass without letting me know that he was better than me. I could show up in a Bugatti with million-dollar rims on it, and still I couldn’t put him in his place. No matter how successful I become, it wouldn’t change his opinion on me.

  And it still wouldn’t override the fact that at one point, he won.

  In the end, he got the girl.

  13

  Wyatt

  “Do you think lavender would look good on me?” I spin my iPad around and show Declan a gray tuxedo with a lavender shirt.

  “No.” He doesn’t even look at the picture, his eyes remaining focused on SportsCenter blaring on the TV.

  “Seriously?” I swipe through a few more pics, adding them to my new Pinterest board for Willow’s wedding. “I think I’d look nice.”

  “I guess it depends on what look you’re going for.” He shrugs, pulling his blanket up closer to his chest. Between the two of us, we’ve done a total of nothing today. He slunk through the door around ten am, and we’ve been laying in my living room ever since. It’s not something that we do too often, so I’m trying to enjoy it. In a just a few weeks, our free time will come to an abrupt end. Once spring training starts, our opportunities to lay around and veg for a whole day will be non-existent.

  “If you’re trying to look like Joe Exotic’s third husband, then sure. Run it. In fact, I think that you could totally pull that shit off. You’re exactly his type. You know, the kind that isn’t certain of his sexuality.”

  “I question a lot of things, like for example, picking you for a friend.” I flip him off and continue my scrolling. “But I’ve never questioned that I love women.”

  He just chuckles and continues to lounge his big ass body on my sectional and rest his grubby old mitt on my remote.

  “Well, it’s a fair question. You’ve shot me down every time I’ve encouraged you to throw a party in the last two weeks. I was just wondering…”

  “Don’t even.” I glare at him. “I’ve been busy.”

  “You’ve never been too busy for the babes and you know it, Wyatt.” He glares right back. “Just admit it, you’ve been acting weird.”

  I’ll never admit something that isn’t true.

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He finally glances at my iPad. “Are you seriously on Pinterest?”

  I flip him off. The day that Gia showed Willow and I the Hamlin Hotel, she brought up a Pinterest board that she created for the wedding, and as soon as I was in the safety of my car, I downloaded that shit. As it turns out, not only can I view the things that she’s adding for the wedding, but I’ve also been able to snoop on Gia, on the down low, of course.

  Through this fantastic app, I’ve learned that Gia’s recently gotten into eating healthy. She’s got two full boards of low-calorie recipes that she’s been adding things to on the daily. She’s also got a board labeled quotes, and fuck me, some of the words I read cut me off at the knees. Of course, there are a lot of independent woman and boss babe words saved, but some of the others are directed at someone trying to heal a broken heart. I can’t help but to wonder if she saved those thinking of me or thinking of Cole. I’m not sure which one is worse. I always knew that Gia would make an excellent mother someday, and if her Pinterest is any indication, she certainly has done just that. Her little girl has her own board, filled with adoring quotes about daughters, fun activities and crafts. That part about her makes me smile.

  “Dude.” The expression on Declan’s face says it all. He thinks that he’s about to pull my man card. Too bad for him, his opinion doesn’t mean shit right now.

  “Stop judging.” I turn around and fluff the throw pillow behind me before laying back again. Yeah, I used the word throw pillow. I’m using Pinterest for educational purposes, too. The large pillow behind me is royal blue, the accent color of my living room. “And for the record, I’d look awesome in lavender.”

  “Sure, you would.” His tone is completely unnecessary. “And Wyatt Exotic does have a nice ring to it.”

  I flip him off with my free hand and add the picture of the lavender dress shirt to my board. Fuck Declan and his stupid opinion. I think that a lavender shirt would look nice on me. It would bring out my skin tone and my eyes, plus, it’s the accent color of the wedding, so it would fit with the whole vibe.

  Honestly, I’m proud of myself right now. Here I am, in the off season, and instead of getting wasted every night and rotting my brain, I’m using it as a time to learn. A few weeks ago, I would have never uttered the phrase accent color. I wouldn’t know that in order for a table centerpiece to pop, it has to have both color and texture. I wouldn’t know the difference between a tablecloth and a table runner, and I wouldn’t have never considered a single napkin to be a statement piece.

  It’s all about growth, and like a caterpillar, I’m busting out of my cocoon, and I’m spreading my butterfly wings in the design world. I keep that to myself, though. Declan doesn’t need any more ammunition.

  “You know what guys? It’s cool. I’ll clean up the kitchen after you.” Willow storms past us, her eyes shifting glares between Declan and me.

  “Thanks, Willow.” Declan lifts his chin at her. In response, she chucks a pillow at him. He catches it with one hand and shoves it behind him. “Thanks, boo. I was just about to get up and grab another one.”

  A disgusted snort leaves my sister, as she stomps past us and heads back towards the kitchen.

  “Leave it, sis.” I call after her. “I’ll get it later.”

  “Any later and it’s going to attract bugs, Wyatt. Enjoy having me as your housekeeper while you can.” I guarantee that her middle finger is flying high in the air right now. Good thing I can’t see through the walls. “Once I move out, I highly suggest hiring a live-in maid.”

  “No shit.” Declan agrees. “You really should. It’s nice to have someone around to always clean up after you. I don’t know what I’d do without Miss Linda.”

  I set my iPad down and head to the kitchen to help Willow clean up. I can tell by her tone that she’s pissed, and rightfully so. All that Dec and I have done today is eat and lounge, and since neither one of us is a professional chef, shit kinda hit the fan in there.

  “I told you that I’d get it.” I nudge Willow out of the way and grab the dishes off of the counter. “You don’t have to clean up my mess, sis.”

  “All that I do is clean up your mess, Wyatt.” Her eyes narrow on mine. “And full disclosure? I’m nervous about leaving you on your own. How in the hell are you going to survive without me?”

  I’ve wondered the same thing more times than I can count. I always knew that this day would come, Willow finding a guy worthy of her and settling down. I just didn’t think that it was going to happen so soon. This abrupt engagement and rushed wedding threw me for a loop, so I’ve just been taking things day by day. But they’ve spun me out for sure.

  “I’m twenty-seven years old, Willow.” My lips flatten. “I can handle myself.”

  “You can’t.” She blinks up at me. “Two weeks ago, I stopped you from hiring a prostitute to dance at Jude’s birthday party. Three days later, I had to kick three skanks out of here because you couldn’t get them to leave. I worry about you and the decisions that you make. It would be a lot easier moving out if you had someone to settle down with. Someone who would look out for you the way that I do.”

  “All this over a dirty kitchen, huh?”

  Her shoulders sag as she glances back at
me. She doesn’t need to say it, I know that this is coming up over more than just some dirty dishes and shredded cheese bits covering the counter. I do lean on Willow a lot, and she has every right to worry about how I’ll do on my own. Hell, even I worry about how I’ll do on my own.

  “I’m going to be fine.” I squeeze her arm. “I promise. The last thing that you should be worrying about is me.”

  When her eyes meet mine, I pause. I see the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface of her baby blues, and an unwelcome feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

  “It is just me that you’re worried about, right?” I kick the dishwasher door shut with my foot, and spin to face her. “Because if there is anything that you want to talk to me about, or if something else is bothering you about the wedding. Willow, you know that you can talk to me, right? I’m always here for you.”

  Is it my imagination? Or does she pause before faking a smile?

  “No. There’s nothing else going on. I just have a lot on my plate right now.” She rises to her tiptoes and plants a kiss on my cheek. “But if you started picking up after yourself and stopped being such a slob that would help.”

  She leaves me to clean the kitchen, but even after she’s gone, the nervous feeling in my gut doesn’t go away. In fact, it only grows.

  “I’m calling in a favor.” Willow thunders down the stairs in a rush. Her hair is curled, she has a full face of makeup on, and yet she’s wearing scrubs. I glance up at her curiously and am about to comment on why she chose to get so dolled up to go to work, when a flood of words leaves her mouth.

  “They just paged out a code triage.” She zips past me and slips shoes onto her feet. “Both BJ and I have to respond. All available staff has to respond.” She explains, pulling the refrigerator open and grabbing out one of the prepped meals that she always makes sure we have. “I need you to go to Vitale’s in my place tonight. BJ and I were supposed to meet the wedding planner there at six.”