She doesn’t reply right away, and I wonder if she’s already in bed. In a way, I hope she is. I hope she laid down and fell asleep right away, so she can get as much rest as possible before his next feeding and diaper change. I just set my phone down, when it pings with a text.
Ashtyn: What are you still doing up?
Me: Can’t sleep. Wish I was there.
Ashtyn: There’s nothing you can do here.
Me: I can help, Sweetness. That’s better than pacing the floors here, wishing I were at your place. I should have never left.
Frustration fills my soul once more as I think about leaving them alone. There’s no doubt in my mind Ashtyn can handle it, but she shouldn’t have to, dammit. I should be there, do whatever needs to be done, whether it’s a midnight diaper change or running a load of laundry. Admittedly, I’d probably need a refresher on the whole laundry bit, since mine is done by my housekeeper, but I’m a quick learner. I’ll figure it out.
Ashtyn: It’s late.
Me: I know.
I take a deep breath and let it out.
Me: Can I come over? I’ll sleep on the couch or the floor, but I can’t stay here, Ash. I feel helpless and I fucking hate it.
She doesn’t respond right away, which starts to worry me. Maybe I stepped over some invisible line and am pushing too hard. I’m about to apologize when her reply comes through.
Ashtyn: Okay
That’s it.
Okay.
One simple word that feels equivalent to winning the fucking lottery.
I’m already up and moving. I grab a duffel bag from my closet and throw in some clean shorts, tees, and boxers. I add my travel shaving bag, only because I know it’ll have everything else I need, and grab my phone charger.
Me: I’ll be there in thirty minutes.
Ashtyn: There’s a code on the front door. It’s 030422
Me: Get some sleep. I won’t bother you when I get there.
Before I shove my phone in my pocket, I add:
Me: Thank you, Ash. For including me and allowing me into your home like this.
Ashtyn: I never wanted to exclude you, Tate. I’ve always wanted you to be a part of his life.
“And I am,” I say aloud, slipping my phone into the pocket of my shorts.
Because as long as I live, I’m going to be the father that boy deserves. I may not have pictured my life going this way, but fuck am I glad it did. That night changed my life, in more ways than one. It opened my eyes to the beauty of one woman and connected me with her forever.
I drive a little too fast as I head over to her house. It’s on the other side of St. Louis, in an older neighborhood filled with ranch-style homes, elementary schools, and churches. It wouldn’t be my first choice to live, but it’d be at the top of my list for my son. Maybe not these older, smaller places, but one of the big ones with a huge yard. Plenty of room to throw a ball back and forth and maybe add a pool.
Slowing my car, I notice a single light on in her house. I pull my sports car into her driveway, all the way up to the small garage. My red Lamborghini Aventador stands out like a neon sign most places, but in suburbia, it’s worse. Thankfully, she has a thick row of hedges between her place and her neighbor’s, so it’s a little easier to hide the car. Though, all you’d have to do is simply look up the driveway to see it, and considering there are only three in this part of the country, it’s not very inconspicuous.
I should have brought the BMW SUV.
Mental note to switch vehicles tomorrow…
With my bag in hand, I lock the car and set the alarm before heading to her front door. I enter the code and quietly slip inside, making sure the door is locked behind me. There’s not a sound anywhere, and I hope that means Ashtyn fell back asleep.
I drop my bag on the chair, kick off my shoes, and slip down the hall. I know Rowan’s room will be empty since he’s sleeping in one of those bassinet things beside Ash’s bed. The door is wide open, so I go ahead and peek inside. What I wasn’t expecting was a sight that will forever be ingrained in my memory. The most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen.
Ashtyn is sleeping on her side with Rowan beside her. He’s swaddled in a blanket, his arms extended over his head. Her right hand is resting on his legs as if she needs constant contact with him. Her hair is wild on her pillow, which only adds to her beauty.
I retrieve my phone and turn on the camera app. I take two photos of mother and baby sleeping soundly before I retreat from the room. I’m guessing he woke up again after she fed him, and so she moved him to her bed, probably only meant for a few minutes, but then she fell asleep. I’m not sure if I should wake her, but my gut says to let them be.
Smiling, I find a pillow and sheet sitting on the couch. She must have put it here after our text exchange. I sit back and throw my legs up on the worn cushions. When I close my eyes, I see them on the bed. I see Rowan in her arms, his dark eyes gazing up at his mother with so much trust and innocence. I see Ashtyn smiling, her face so full of love and adoration for one tiny human.
And then I see me, right there in the middle of it.
For the first time in my life, I fall head over heels in love.
Chapter Eight
Ashtyn
It’s been two weeks since I confirmed to Tate he was Rowan’s father, and do you know what? He’s been here every moment he can. Sure, his personal training schedule is starting to pick up now that we’re approaching July, but when he’s not at the facility’s gym or team meetings, he’s here.
Alex, on the other hand, has been crazy busy. When he returned to St. Louis, he was immediately shipped out to scout and negotiate for a new kicker. He was gone a week, meetings with agents and players, and since he’s been back, he’s had meetings almost nightly.
The plus side to that is I haven’t had to have an awkward conversation with him about Rowan’s father.
The downside is I haven’t had that conversation, and I’m afraid he’s going to show up at my house when Tate is here.
Tate and I decided last night we’d tell him this coming Saturday at dinner. Tate wanted to tell him alone, but I insisted I be there. I know my brother. He’s most likely going to be upset, but if he sees I’m okay, it’ll help soothe the rough waters when he finds out it’s his best friend who fathered his sister’s baby. No sister ever wants to talk about who she sleeps with to her brother.
Speaking of sleeping, Tate has been here most nights.
On my couch.
He gets up and does midnight diaper changes before handing Rowan over for his feeding. Who would have thought? The infamous Tate Steele, bad boy, playboy extraordinaire, a pro at changing diapers. He brings me water and snacks, and on several occasions, has rubbed my back while standing in the kitchen. In fact, he seems to do whatever he can to touch me. Not grabbing my ass, as I’d expected, but those little grazes of his shoulder along mine or the gentlest swipe of his thumb over the apple of my cheek. It’s messing with my girl-brain. Mostly because I like it so much.
He’s often gone though in the morning when I get up for the day, heading off to a team workout. However, the coffee pot is always on, a clean cup sitting right in front of it, ready to go.