Fourth Down (Portland Pioneers 1)

“What is wrong with the two of you?” I ask, acting completely horrified. I move away from my disgusting mates and start to clean up the mess, shaking my head as I go. I’m not mad at Reggie, although I am slightly taken back by his actions. He is usually very civilized. Noah, on the other hand, not so much. When Peyton isn’t around, he’s as crass as the next guy. Reggie apologizes and begins to help me clean up.

“I should get going,” Noah says as he throws his wrapper away. “Peyton’s group will be done shortly, and I want to be home when she returns.”

“I meant to ask you earlier,” I say as we walk toward the door. “I thought she finished up with the group before you guys got married?”

“She had, but sometimes she needs their support. She works to avoid triggers but saw some wreckage on the news the other day and had some trouble decompressing.”

“Damn, trauma like that never goes away, does it?”

Noah shakes his head. “Nope, but at least she recognizes when she needs to talk to others and doesn’t hold her feelings in. I’d rather her go to her group than bottle her emotions up.”

“Makes sense.”

Noah and I say goodbye, and I tell him I’ll see him at the facility tomorrow for practice. I head to Reggie’s room, knocking quietly on his door before opening it. I find him sitting on his bed with a smile on his face.

“I’m glad you came out to visit,” I tell him as I go in and sit down next to him.

“I think we should have people over more often.”

“I do too.” I pull my son toward me and kiss the top of his head.

“When can Miss Autumn come over?” he asks.

I don’t have the heart to tell him she and I haven’t spoken in a few days. I don’t want him to think she is like his mother, and I don’t want him to be mad at me for my stupidity. “When she’s not working, you’re in school.”

“Yeah, that sucks. Career day is coming up. Maybe I can invite her.”

“What about me?” I ask.

Reggie looks at me and says, “Let’s be real, Dad. The likelihood of going to the NFL is slim. Miss Autumn’s job is more realistic.”

“When did you become so smart?”

He shrugs. “I have a pretty great Dad to teach me things.”

I pull him forward again and kiss him. “Thanks, bud. And thanks for the milkshakes. We definitely needed those tonight.”

Reggie tells me he’s going to read for a little bit before he goes to bed. I don’t know how long I sit on the edge of his bed, but his asking about Autumn really put her at the forefront of my mind.

“I’m going to go down to Autumn’s apartment and leave her a note. I won’t be gone for more than ten minutes. Think you can take care of things?” He doesn’t have to do anything but be present if Roxy were to wake up. We have a state-of-the-art alarm system in place.

“Are you inviting her over?” he asks. His question makes me wonder if he thinks she’ll spend the night or if he’s trying to parent me and is subtly telling me it’s too late.

“I am, but only for a bit. I don’t want to leave you and your sister alone, so it’s easier for her to come over when she gets off work.”

“Okay. Let me know when you’re back.” And just like that, my son has become my parent for a few minutes while I run a quick errand. I have no idea if Autumn will come over when she gets home, but I’m hoping. I really want to talk to her face-to-face, and I want to do it tonight.

Twenty-Nine

Autumn

I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the time I reach my door. Since I went off the air and the entire drive back to my place, I ignored my phone. Julius texted, and at last count, I think there were five or maybe six notifications from him. Perhaps I’m being childish by not looking at them to see what he has to say, but my feelings are hurt, and I need a few more minutes and the comfort of my home before I read what he has to say. Deep down, I know there’s an apology followed by the classic “we’re better off as friends” line. The thing is, I knew better than to get involved. His demeanor when we first met should’ve been a clear sign that we aren’t right for each other.

But he’s so damn hot.

“Looks aren’t everything,” I mutter to myself as I walk toward my door. With my key poised, I pause and look at the folded piece of paper taped to my door. I don’t know why, but I look up and down the hall, almost as if I’m going to catch the culprit who dared to leave whatever this is for me.