She opens the next door, and we both walk in. It’s a blue room, and someone has painted clouds on the ceiling. The room is full of toys, and on one wall is a giant photograph of me in my New England Warrior’s uniform. I’m not smiling, I look angry, and it’s not a picture I recognize.
“Where did you get that?”
“A friend.”
“Does it scare him?”
“Dawson?” Dee laughs. “No. Sometimes I come in here, and he’s pulling faces trying to copy your pose. He loves to watch you play.”
As I walk around the room, I notice there’s an overabundance of New England Warrior memorabilia. I might not have known that Dawson existed, but it’s pretty evident he knows exactly who I am. Next to his bed is a photograph of Dee and me taken way back when I thought she’d be in my life forever. We’re both smiling, and we looked happy. In retrospect, I’ll be in her life forever now that we have a child to bind us.
I pick up the picture in its plain wooden frame and turn it toward Dee. “Happier times, huh?”
Dee nods. “I thought it was important for him to know who his father is.” Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears.
Part of me wants to comfort her and tell her it will be okay, but there’s still a part of me that’s raw and bloody from the way she left things. And right now, that part is winning. I put the picture down and continue to walk around his room.
“He has a lot of stuff.”
“Mom and Dad spoil him.”
I nod and open the door to the other bathroom. It’s has a door into Dee’s room which is open.
“You share a bathroom?”
“No, I have my own.” Dee pushes past me into the bathroom and shuts the other door. “I leave both doors open when Dawson is home, in case he needs me.”
“Diandra! Are you here?” yells a male voice.
Dee visibly pales as she looks at me. “Please, don’t be mad, Gray. It’s not what you think.”
Tyson Reed walks into the room. “Ah, Grayson, you’re here. I hope everything is to your liking?”
My head twists back and forth between Dee and the owner of the New England Warriors. I’m speechless as I piece it together in my mind.
This apartment.
The private hospital.
The New England Warriors memorabilia.
Dee and Tyson are a couple.
I’m such an idiot.
Cracking my head from side to side, I nod at him. “Yeah. Everything is peachy keen.”
Looking at Dee, I shake my head slightly and walk through the other bathroom and into my room without a backward glance.
DIANDRA
As soon as I heard Tyson’s voice, I knew how Gray would react. The shake of his head, the way he clamped his mouth shut, and then the look of disgust he gave me as he strode out of the room.
When he closed both doors to the other bathroom, I nearly screamed. Instead, I walked up to Tyson and gave him a scathing look.
“What?” he asks.
“What?” I move into his personal space. “What?” I ask again, in a higher octave, as I throw my arms in the air. “He doesn’t know about you!” I hiss.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” I’m so angry I could slap him. “He hasn’t agreed to help Dawson. He’s only just had the fucking tests done to see if he’s a match. What if he is, and now he won’t help? Jesus, Tyson!” Tears spill down my cheeks.
“I didn’t know you hadn’t told him.” Tyson reaches out and puts his hands on my shoulders. “You were going to tell him?”
“Of course I was.”
The tears won’t stop, and Tyson pulls me in for a hug as I continue to cry. “I’ll explain it to him.” He strokes up and down my back. “Please don’t cry.”
I push back from him, wiping at my face as I do. “No, it has to be me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Tyson has been my greatest friend and ally through this entire ordeal. He loves Dawson just as much as I do.
“Could you stay on your side of the apartment until I’ve talked to Gray?”
Hurt flashes across his face, but he nods once and leaves the room. I know I’ve hurt him deeply. But I’ve always been honest with him, and I love Tyson like a brother. There are no romantic feelings for him at all.
I walk into my room and to my dressing table. Staring at myself in the mirror, I see circles under my eyes. Using a little foundation, I try to cover them up and apply a fresh coat of lipstick, then I drag a brush through my hair. Feeling a little better about myself, I go in search of Gray. Nervously, I stand outside his door. I raise my hand to knock just as he pulls it open.
He’s got his bag in his hand.
Damn! It looks like he’s going to leave.
Putting my hand on his chest, I push him back into the room, then I bend and take his bag off him and put it on a chair. Gray doesn’t speak. I put my hand in his and tug him to the leather couch at the end of his bed. We both sit. Gray is staring at me, his nostrils flared, and I know he’s angry.
Folding my hands in my lap, I take a deep breath and gaze into his deep brown eyes. “This is Tyson’s apartment. He helped me move to New York, and he lets Dawson and I live here.”
Gray shakes his head, mouth firmly closed. I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t.
“I’m not with Tyson, nor have I ever been romantically involved with him.” Swallowing, the sound seems very loud to my ears. “Gray, we weren’t ready for a child. You told me a child would ruin everything. You’d just been signed, and you were happy. I didn’t want to complicate things for you. I didn’t want you to have to choose.”
Gray takes a breath, and I watch his chest go up and down. His hands are clenched into fists as he listens to me talk. He breaks eye contact with me and shakes his head once. “You should’ve told me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You were everything to me. I’d have moved heaven and earth to make you happy. Why didn’t you trust me, Dee?”
Reaching out, I put one of my hands over one of his fists. “You had a five-year plan. Having a pregnant girlfriend wasn’t part of your plan, and I did try to talk to you, Gray, but you said a child would ruin everything.”
His eyes come back to mine. “And Tyson Reed? Did he simply replace me?”
Snatching my hand back, I sit a little straighter. “No. No one has ever taken your place.”
Gray’s head tilts to the side as he searches my face. “I don’t believe you. No man does what Tyson has done if he’s not getting a little something in return.”
I stand, staggering back a few steps from him. This isn’t the Grayson Moore I once loved. This is some replica of him that only sees lies and deceit.
“Believe what you will. Tyson did have a reason for helping me. He’d just signed you and Colton. You two are now the most valuable players on his team, and if nothing else, Tyson is ruthless. He wanted to win the Super Bowl, and you two helped him do that.”
Turning, I stalk out of the room, slamming the door as hard as I can before I run to my bedroom and curl up on my bed and cry.
GRAYSON
When she stumbled away from me, I knew I’d hurt her deeply. Dee’s face fell at my accusation. How do I stop myself from wanting to wound her as much as she’s wounded me? It feels like she moved to New York, got on with her life, and forgot all about me.
A knock behind me draws my attention, and my mother is standing at the open bathroom door.
“Go after her.”
I shake my head.
“I swear, Grayson, if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
Shaking my head again, I say, “I regret meeting her. I wish I never had.”
“Oh, Gray. You loved her once, and that love produced Dawson. He needs you.”
“I know, Mom. I’m not walking away from my responsibilities.” Standing to face her, I meet her gaze. “See, that’s the thing, Mom, I wouldn’t have cared about a baby. I’d have married her. Hell, I was going to marry her.”
Mom lifts her chin. “Diandra is right about a few things.”
“Mom,” I warn.
She walks toward me, her hands held high. “You listen to me, son. All you ever talked about was your five-year plan. You had your entire life mapped out. The poor girl was scared, and it sounds like she did all of this for you. So you wouldn’t have to choose.”
“I’d have chosen her.”
“That first year you lived at the stadium. You trained nonstop. All of your focus was on the team, and look where it’s got you.” Mom puts her hands in mine. “Your team won the Super Bowl.” She squeezes my fingers. “If you’d had a child, maybe you wouldn’t have been so focused. Maybe you wouldn’t be where you are today, but all of this is moot. The reason we’re here is for Dawson. Not for you, not for Diandra, and certainly not for the New England Warriors. Being a parent means you put your child first. Diandra has been doing that for three years, and now it’s your turn.”
Mom’s words ring true, except I’d have liked the choice to be in Dawson’s life or not. Instead, Dee took that away from me. Now, he’s sick and might not survive, so if he is my son, she’s robbed me of his life, and that’s something I can’t get back.
I’m sitting with Mom and Diandra in Dr. Otto’s office. Today’s the day we find out if I’m a match for Dawson. Mom fidgets in her seat, fussing with the cuff of her jacket. She’s more nervous than I am. The doctor is running late, and none of us are talking to each other. The silence is weighing heavily on me, and I know I need to break it, but I’m so angry, hurt, and confused. I’m worried if I open my mouth to speak, I’ll only hurt Diandra further.
Mom reaches across me to touch Dee on the leg. “I’m sure everything is going to be fine.”
“I hope so. If Gray isn’t a match, I’m not sure how long Dawson—” Dee stops talking, her face flushes red, and it looks likes she’s on the brink of breaking down.
“We don’t know anything yet. Calm down. Let’s hear what the doctor has to say.”
Dee nods, sucks in a lung full of air, and slowly releases it. Then, she sits next to me, placing her hand on top of mine. I’m not comfortable sitting with her like this, so I slowly extract my hand from hers and stare straight ahead. Three years ago, she left me with no explanation, and I’m not willing to forgive her. Just yet.
Dr. Otto comes in, wearing a smile on his face. “Hello!” He taps away on his computer and swivels the monitor around for us to view.
“Is it good news, Doc?” I ask.
“Very. You are a blood and tissue match, the paternity test came back, and you’re a ninety-nine percent match. There’s no doubt in my mind that Dawson is your son.”
I suck in a breath, blow out my cheeks, and slowly release it. Standing, I nod repeatedly at this news. In my heart, I knew he was mine the moment I laid eyes on him, but a part of me wanted to deny it. Hearing the doctor say the words out loud that he’s mine strikes a nerve deep within me.
“Gray?” asks Dee.
I don’t look at her. Instead, I focus on the doctor. “What’s the next step?”
“I’ve reviewed your medical file that was sent over from the New England Warriors. It’s quite extensive.”
“They pay us a lot of money and expect us to be in tip-top condition. Their testing can be rigorous and exhuasting, but at least we all know we’re fit and good to play.”
“I see no reason to delay. We could schedule the procedure for as early as tomorrow.”
Dee laughs and claps her hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Dr. Otto looks from Dee to me, and a small frown creases his forehead. “If you don’t mind, I’d like some time alone with Mr. Moore.”
Mom and Dee stand, then embrace each other.
“Of course!” beams Mom as she and Dee leave the room, chatting excitedly with each other.
Dr. Otto extends his hand and says, “Please sit, Mr. Moore.”
“Call me Gray.”
“Gray.” He picks up a pen and twirls it between two fingers. “Have you researched this procedure at all?”
“No, sir.”
He nods, puts the pen down, and leans forward. “We’ll make a small incision below your belly button to remove the kidney.”
“Okay, sign me up.”
His lips turn down, and his expression turns serious. “It would mean the end of your football career.”
I rock back in the chair and shake my head. “What?”
“If you were on a baseball team, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but you’re in a high-contact sport. There’s a chance you could damage your remaining kidney.”
I’m staring at him, completely dumbfounded. My mind has gone into a fog, and I have no idea how to respond.
Dr. Otto sits back. “If you decide to go through with the surgery, you’ll remain in the hospital for four to six days, and your recovery time will be approximately six weeks. No heavy lifting. You may experience some tenderness and itching as you heal.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” I hold up a hand. “No more football?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“But that’s my job, it’s my life. It is all I have.”
“It’s a sacrifice you’ll have to make if you go through with the surgery.”
“And if I don’t go through with it, what will happen to Dawson?”
Dr. Otto’s lips turn down, and he shakes his head. “Without a transplant, he will die.”
I’m staring at him, my mouth ajar, trying to comprehend everything he’s just said. Dr. Otto stands and walks around his desk. He leans against it and crosses his ankles. “Right now, Dawson is doing okay. You have time to think about it.”
Sharply I look up at him. “Give me the day. I’ll come back tomorrow with an answer. I need to think.”
He reaches out and pats my shoulder. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”
Standing, I walk out of the room and head toward Dawson’s room. I haven’t met him yet. He’s been asleep the few times I have been here, and I’ve been reluctant to wake him. Part of me doesn’t want to form a bond with him. Part of me thinks of him as only Diandra’s son, not mine.
Entering his room, he’s awake. He’s got a small doll of me, and he’s attacking his teddy bear with it. I’m guessing both of them came from Tyson Reed. My mouth turns down at the thought of him. He’s remained scarce since we’ve arrived, apart from that one meeting in Dawson’s room.
Dawson looks up and sees me, and a smile splits his face. “Grayson Moore!”
“Better known as your dad,” I reply.
Dawson nods. “I knew that!”
I ruffle his hair and sit on the bed near him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, not as tired today.”
“Where’s your momma?”
He shrugs and looks down as he plays with the figurine of me.
“She won’t be far away.”
He looks at me from underneath his lashes. “Are you going to stay?”
“Football season is over, and I have nowhere else I’d rather be.”
He drops the toy and grabs my hand. “I watch you on TV.”
“You like football?” He nods. “Maybe you and I could go to a game sometime?”
His smile gets bigger, and he nods. “Yes!”
“Have you ever been to a game, little man?”
“That’s what Momma calls me.” He falls back onto his pillows. “Momma won’t take me to a game.”
“Well, we’ll have to talk to her about it.”
The boy holds up my hand and puts his small palm against mine. This innocent act melts my heart. Staring at his small hand on my large one, something inside me breaks.
“Momma says one day I’m going to grow up big and strong like you.”
“For sure, little man.”
He yawns and rubs his eyes.
“Are you tired?”
Dawson shakes his head.
“You sure?”
He nods.
<
br /> “You know it’s okay to have a nap. I have them all the time.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yeah. You can’t play football without rest.”
He closes his eyes and then opens them suddenly. “You’ll be here when I wake up?”
“If I’m not, you get your momma to ring me, and I’ll come right back.”
“Okay.”
His eyes close, and I wait until he’s dropped off before I leave the room. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I dial Colt.
“Hey, Gray, how are things?”
“Messy.”
I close my eyes and lean against the wall out in the hallway.
“How can I help?”
It’s so like Colt to do that. He’s a good guy, and I’m lucky to have met him.
“I don’t know that you can.”
“Need me to come?”
“Yeah, man, that’d be good.”
“I’ll book a flight. See you soon, brother.”
The line goes dead. He is more than my best friend, he’s family.
If anyone can help me through this mess, it’ll be Colton Anders.
GRAYSON
I’ve avoided both my mother and Diandra. They’ve called my cell phone multiple times, but I let it go to voicemail. Before I can talk to either of them, I need to decide what I’m going to do. I’m waiting in the bar at The Langham Hotel for Colt. He hasn’t checked in yet, but he shouldn’t be far away. His flight landed forty minutes ago.
“Excuse me, are you Grayson Moore?” Turning slightly, I come face to face with a blonde bombshell. “You are Grayson Moore!”
Nodding and grinning at her, I stand and hold out my hand. “Yes, ma’am, I’m Grayson Moore, but my friends call me Gray.”
“Oh, I can’t believe it! I’m a huge fan. Congratulations on the Super Bowl!” She throws her arms around me for an instant, then moves back. “You have to let me buy you a drink.”
I pick up my full glass and wave it in front of her. “I’ve got one, but I could get you a drink?”
She pretends to look embarrassed and puts her hand on my arm. “Well, that would be fabulous.” The bombshell positions herself on the chair next to mine and then holds out her hand. “I’m Tiffany.”
Tackling Life: A Sports Romance (Tackling Romance Series Book 2) Page 9
