Page 125 of A Little Secret
Me? A mom? Let alone a good mom? The title feels so…unattainable. Like I’ve received a job offer not only way out of my league, but I didn’t even apply for it in the first place.
“I like the vote of confidence, but I don’t know about?—”
“I do.” With a reassuring smile, he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me close. “You’re going to be a great mom, Fin. Those are the first words that should’ve come out of my mouth, but they didn’t, and that’s on me. I’m sorry.”
“You’re more than forgiven,” I murmur.
“Good.” He lets me go. “And I’m gonna be a kickass uncle.”
“You already are,” I point out, reminding him of Miley’s and Hazel’s kids.
“Yeah, I know. But this kid?” He pauses. “This little kid is gonna be spoiled rotten.” Leaning closer, he drops his voice lower. “And my favorite. I promise.”
With a quiet laugh, I look down at my stomach. It’s still the same. Part of me wishes it would look different. Like I swallowed a watermelon or something. That I could skipthe pudgy stage and go straight to thethat girl’s definitely pregnantstage. Maybe it would make this feel more real. Less unknown. Instead, I’m caught in the between. The what ifs. The maybes.
Sobering, I admit, “It’s scary.”
“I know it is.” He pauses. “I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.” I lift my gaze and smile. “Seriously.”
“And, Fin?” he adds. “I’m happy for you and Griff. I know I’ve been a dick on that front, too, and I know you’re not one to need my approval on shit, but you have it.”
My smile widens, and I bump my shoulder against his. “Thanks, Ev.”
“Did he, uh, did he mention potentially being traded to the Lions?” he prods.
I nod. “Maybe.”
“And how do you feel about it?”
“I feel…” My brows bunch as I honestly consider his question. The idea of Griffin staying. The idea of us raising this baby together. Close to family and friends and doctors and school. “Honestly, if it works, I think it would be great.”
“You two are solid?”
“Solid as we can be, considering the circumstances.”
“Good.” He gives me a hesitant smile. “He’s a shoo-in.”
Pressing my lips together, I study him carefully. The creases at the corner of eyes. The slight twitch of his jaw. “What about you?” I question. “Griff mentioned that you also reached out to Uncle Henry.”
“He did, did he?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“That isn’t an answer,” I argue.
“You really think I’d put my career on the line for anything?”
He starts to stand, but I grab his wrist and hold him in place. “For the people you love? Yes. Yes, I do.”
“My career is just fine, Fin.”
Bullshit.
I’d laugh if he wasn’t such a terrible liar. There are pros and cons to voicing what I’ve heard through the grapevine instead of keeping it close to the chest, but I don’t bother weighing them. Why? Because there aren’t enough pros in the world to potentially stand in the way of everything my brother’s worked so hard for. Not when I’ve had front-row seats to every practice. Every early morning weight session. Every game. Not to mention being up close and personal when it comes to his relationship with Raine. Before they met, Ev was even more bullheaded, convinced that if he wasn’t the one to carry his loved one’s burdens, then he had no use in the world. Yet here he is, reverting back to his chivalrous—and very problematic—habit of being the martyr.