Game Day Baby

by Seabrook, C. M.

  Memories slam into me and for a second, I forget to breathe.

  “Aria?” Tatum tilts my chin up.

  “Look, you have to know when this comes out. When people know about you and Ashley. About me. There are things... things I did....”

  “I don’t care. Whatever it is, it’s no one’s business. Okay?”

  He still doesn’t get it. Being famous means that your life is everyone’s business. The media is brutal. It promotes lies and denies the truth, all to sell a story. And I know what this story is going to read like. Regardless, no matter how they spin it, my reputation won’t come out of this unscathed. And neither will Tatum.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tatum

  I call my agent and release a statement to the press, but Aria was right to be concerned. Someone broke the story before my statement was released, and pictures of me and her together at the studio are already all over social media.

  Knox and Drew have been in touch, and so has my brother. They’ve all seen the story. Everyone is on edge for me and what this means for my NFL career. I appreciate their concern. But my biggest worry isn’t myself. It’s for Aria and Rose.

  “How bad is it?” Aria asks, rocking Rose in her arms.

  “It’s kinda painful,” I say, showing her the phone screen. There is footage of me in the lobby, holding Rose. And then it cuts to Bev who is giving an interview.

  “My daughter has always had good taste if you know what I mean.” Bev winks insinuating parts of Aria’s story that I know fills her with shame.

  Aria’s eyes fill with tears and she pushes my phone away. “You’re right, it’s too hard to watch.”

  I slip my phone in my pocket, wondering when I should call my parents and explain. Time is running out and I need to get ahead of this. They deserve that at least.

  “What are you thinking?” Aria asks, as I take Rose from her and walk toward her pink nursery. Aria has hung framed vintage ballet posters on the wall and I even found wallpaper with a pink ballet slipper pattern that I lined the room with.

  We stand over the crib, looking at Rose who is so innocent in all of this. “I want to protect her,” I tell Aria. “But on days like today, I wonder if I can.”

  “The world isn’t a very forgiving place,” she says softly. Then offering me a half smile she adds, “But I’m hoping for a silver lining in all of this.”

  For a moment, I believe she might be saying that she and I, this family unit we’ve created, is the bright spot in all this mess. I want her to mean that. To mean that she sees me as more than a father to Rose but as the man, she has always dreamed of.

  But that’s not the direction her mind is headed. And when she opens her mouth, my ridiculous fantasies fade away.

  “I’m hoping Ash sees these videos, the press release, and everything. I’m hoping that she comes forward. If there was ever a time for her to cash in on her situation, it’s now.”

  I nod tightly, hating that I got myself into this with a woman like Ashley when the woman I could actually see a future with is right in front of me. But whatever ground we covered over the last month as we’ve grown closer, has all slipped away. We were in a cocoon, but now we’re exposed.

  “I need to call my parents,” I tell her frustration making my voice clipped. “They should hear this from me, not fucking E-News.”

  “Of course, I’ll give you privacy,” she says, before slipping into her hardly used room down the hall.

  I step into the living room wondering how the hell I am going to break the news to Mom and Dad.

  Sitting down, I brace myself to let down the two people who have always had my back. I use FaceTime to call them, setting my phone on the coffee table, using the kickstand to prop it up.

  “Tatum, what a surprise!” Mom’s voice grounds me and also tears me apart. Tears fill my eyes and she notices. “Oh Tatum, what is it? Nathan, come in here,” she calls for my dad. “Please. It’s important”

  A moment later my dad is by my mom’s side in the new kitchen, in the lakeside house I bought them two years ago.

  “What is it, son?” Dad asks, worry lining his face as I press my fingers to my temples. The damn headache that I can’t seem to get rid of is fucking killing me right now.

  “It’s bad, guys. I mean, it’s beautiful, but also, it’s all such a mess.” My voice cracks. “I wasn’t going to tell you yet. I wanted the moment to be right, but the story is out there now, it leaked, and everyone will know, and I needed to tell you before... before...”

  “Tatum,” Mom’s voice cuts through my emotion. “We are here for you no matter what. But we need to understand what you’re going through in order to help.”

  I rub my eyes clearing my throat, trying to man up -- whatever the fuck that means. “I have a daughter,” I tell them.

  The words are blunt but true and Mom and Dad reach for one another’s hand, clinging to the truest thing they know in the midst of their shock. Their love. It’s steady and true. A force, a rock -- my goddamn relationship goal.

  And my hope of ever having that storybook love left the moment I knocked up Ashley Ryan. That picture-perfect love story won’t ever be written. That kills me -- mostly for Rose. Because she deserves a family like that. One that isn’t sensationalized and isn’t documented by the press. She will never have that. Her photographs are already all over the Internet. I want to protect her from it, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.

  I explain it all to my parents. They listen with a wide-eyed shock that I understand all too well. When I finish, Mom is wiping her eyes with tissues and Dad is too.

  “Well, can we at least see our granddaughter?” Mom asks.

  It kills me, how good she is to me. She should lecture me right now. Show her disappointment, even tell me that I really did it this time. But she sees through the bullshit. Knows that making me feel worse than I already do isn’t going to fix a goddamn thing. She wants to meet Rose. Her focus on the one thing that matters.

  My little girl.

  I walk with my phone into the nursery and reverse the camera so they can see her swaddled in her crib, sleeping soundly.

  “Oh, Tatum,” Mom says in a whisper. “She’s perfect.”

  “Look at that cute little nose. She’s so sweet,” Dad says, choking up and I let them watch her sleep, as the three of us cry silently. For what we’ve all lost. What I cost them -- cost Rose. I made a mistake by sleeping with Ashley, but Rose is not a regret.

  Chapter Twenty

  Aria

  Every time I leave Tatum’s apartment, I’m accosted by paparazzi. I keep my baseball cap low, my oversized sunglasses hiding most of my face, but still, they hound me. So much that I can’t even go to the dance school.

  Thank God for Cleo, or I’d have to cancel classes. Sure, staying with Tatum is saving me money, but I’ve barely made a dent in the money Ashley incurred.

  So, I stay inside and off the internet, hiding from the world. From the cruel things that I know are being said about me.

  And I know it’s a PR nightmare for Tatum too. News reporters call him at all hours of the day and night, wanting an interview and I can see the strain it’s taking on him. He’s been getting headaches more often, and there are dark circles under his eyes like he hasn’t slept in days.

  I haven’t done much sleeping either, not after the documentary on Ashley and me resurfaced and has been aired on every major network for the past few nights. I can’t flip through the channels without seeing my face or hearing the critical words of the reporters.

  Or seeing his face.

  I shiver now and rub my arms, willing myself not to fall down the rabbit hole of memories and fears.

  Rose’s cry through the intercom keeps me founded in reality.

  He can’t hurt you anymore, I tell myself as I walk to the nursery and pick Rose up.

  “Hey, beautiful, girl,” I say, kissing her soft cheek. “I’m here.”

  God, I wish I could promise her that no one will
ever hurt her like I’d been hurt. That I’ll protect her from all the monsters and evils of this world. But how can I when I can’t even protect myself?

  “There you are,” Tatum says, coming into the room.

  “I thought you had practice?”

  He shrugs. “Coach thought it best if I take a couple of days off.”

  “Is he punishing you?”

  “No.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t do anything they can discipline me for. But he thought that I should keep a low profile until things calm down.”

  “So, I guess we’re stuck here.”

  He reaches out and strokes my cheek. “I could think of worse places to be stuck.”

  “I know.” He’s been so good, with me and with Rose. In fact, with this whole mess but I keep pushing him away. “I’m sorry,” I tell him.

  “For what?”

  “I’ve been moody the past few days.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” he says, lowering his face to mine and kissing me gently. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

  God, I’m falling so hard for this man.

  “How about we go somewhere?” he says.

  “Where? The paparazzi will follow us anywhere we go.”

  He shrugs. “Let them. Are we really going to let them cage us in here?”

  I sigh. “I would like a little sunshine. And some fresh air would be good for Rose.”

  “Then let's put that stroller to good use. We can pack a lunch and go hiking at Franklin Canyon.

  I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  And it is. Once we’re outside of the city, with the wind in my hair and the sun shining on my face, I feel the tension of everything that’s happened melt off of me. We hike for forty minutes and I’m pretty sure no one followed us.

  Tatum sets a blanket down under a large maple and I take Rose out of the stroller.

  We have a wonderful day, just the three of us. And it feels... right. Like we’re a family. A crazy, weird, non-traditional family. But a family all the same.

  Later, Cleo comes over, telling us we need a night off… together. “I don’t know,” I say twisting my lips. “What if Ashley shows up and we’re not here?”

  “Then I’ll text you and tell you to get your butt home. But you should really stay out all night. Treat yourself and all that.”

  I look over at Tatum, wondering what he thinks. “I’d love to take you out, Aria. We haven’t done a normal thing like that sin...”

  “Since we met?”

  He laughs, running a hand over his jaw. “Yeah, pretty much.” He pulls out his phone. “Hey, actually, I know a guy who owes me a favor. Let me make a call. I think I have a good idea of where we could go.”

  “Without too much attention drawn to us?” I ask not wanting to deal with cameras. It’s why I’d rather stay home.

  “Trust me,” he says, and I reach for my purse. Realizing that I absolutely do. I trust Tatum with everything.

  * * *

  A half hour later I’m with Tatum in a romantic bungalow of the LA hideaway, famous for hosting Hollywood royalty. The Beverly Hills hotel is filled with vintage glamour and I smile, knowing we’re in a completely private space for the rest of the night.

  Our room is surrounded by twelve acres of lush gardens and palm trees. We may be in the center of the city, but it feels like we’re in an exotic paradise.

  I drop my bag and sink against the mattress. The silky linens are soft against my arms. “Oh God, if I get under these sheets, I don’t think I’ll get out of this bed for hours.”

  Tatum grins, pulling off his clothes, his body so damn chiseled it still takes my breath away. It’s like he’s carved from stone, each muscle defined. “That sounds like a pretty good plan to me.”

  He leans over me, kissing me deeply and I whimper, realizing Cleo was right. Uninterrupted time with Tatum is a gift I didn’t realize I needed. He eases off my jeans and I pull off my top and our bodies join, melting, sinking, coming together as one.

  When he runs his hand over me, getting me nice and ready for his thick cock, I squirm with pleasure. “That feels so good,” I sigh, relishing his touch.

  He knows how to get me ready, and soon he is entering me, his length and girth taking my breath away, every single time. I whimper, back arching as he fills me up the way I crave. We move together, finding the rhythm that has gotten us through the last few crazy weeks. The world may seem utterly unsure but in his arms, I feel grounded. Settled. Safe.

  Afterward, he gets out of bed to get us something to drink, silly grins of happiness on our faces.

  “This hotel is so glam,” I tell him, taking in the room, my body slick with sex in the most glorious way. “Usually I don’t like uber fancy places, but I love it here.”

  “I like it too. It has an old-fashioned feel to it,” he says as he pops the cork of a bottle of champagne. Handing me a glass, I can’t help but stare at his cock. It’s so big, so long, so freaking good at getting me off. “Could you see yourself living in a place like this?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, reaching for him, running my hand over his length. He groans, getting back in bed with me, champagne already forgotten as we begin to explore one another’s body as if it’s our first time all over again.

  “I want to buy a house. I’d feel more settled. And the condo is nice, but I’d like Rose to have a home. Don’t you?”

  I smile, rolling on top of the man who is making my life seem like a daydream. And after so many years of nightmares, he has no idea what him entering my life means. “Rose deserves the world,” I tell him.

  “So, do you, Aria.” Tatum pulls me to him, kissing me softly. “So, do you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tatum

  It’s only a little after six a.m. when I wake up but I’m used to waking up early, and I want to get a pot of coffee started before Rose wakes up and demands all of my attention. I kiss Aria’s forehead, smiling when she snores softly, before rolling out of bed.

  I should feel like my world is in complete chaos right now, but I don’t. Not with Aria asleep in my bed. My daughter is safe and healthy in the nursery. I can’t even be upset about my injury because it’s given me some much-needed time with the two most important girls in my life.

  My girls.

  I smile. Maybe it’s too soon to think of Aria as mine. And I know I can’t give her the fairy tale romance she deserves. But the more time we spend together, the more I feel like we’re becoming a family.

  Sure, a slightly dysfunctional one. But in our own way, we are a family.

  My phone rings and I answer it when I see it’s from the front desk.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Madden. I have a Mr. Abelson here. He says he has papers that you need to sign for.”

  I drag a hand over my scruff, wondering what the hell needs to be delivered at this hour. “I don’t know an Abelson.”

  A few seconds later, the man says, “He says he’s from the office of Oliver and Steinbeck.”

  That name I recognize. My lawyer.

  “Okay,” I say. “Send him up.”

  I meet the man at the door before he can knock and wake Rose and Aria up. I sign a digital pad before he hands me an envelope, then walks away.

  “Biolabs,” I read the heading on the envelope, frowning. It must be the paternity results. My stomach does a little flip, which I don’t understand because I have no doubt that Rose is mine.

  She has to be.

  I place the envelope on the counter and start to make the bottles for today.

  But my gaze keeps going back to the envelope.

  Why the hell am I afraid to open it?

  I place the bottle on the counter and pick up the envelope, tearing into it. There’s no reason I should be concerned. My name is on Rose’s birth records. Ashley told me she is mine. And not to mention that she has my chin and my nose.

  But a cold sweat has fo
rmed on my brow, even before I pull the letter out and start to unfold it.

  I read through the statement, “A comparison of the DNA of Tatum Madden and Rose Madden does not-…” I stop, fear hitting me square in the chest. “Does not support the hypothesis that Tatum Madden is the biological father of Rose Madden.”

  There are numbers that I don’t understand, but what I do understand are the bolded words:

  Probability of Paternity 0%

  I drop the letter on the counter like it’s a venomous snake.

  “No.” I shake my head. That can’t be right. I must have done the test wrong. Or there was an error at the labs.

  Rose is mine.

  She’s my daughter.

  But the results are right in front of me.

  I want to scream. I need to hit something. Because I can’t make sense of it. I’d thought the moment when Ashley had told me Rose was mine was the biggest shock of my life. But this is so much worse.

  My entire world doesn’t just tilt on its axis, it seems to cave in on itself. And I know I’m about to lose everything I care about. Rose. Aria. I didn’t prepare for this. Didn’t think for a moment that it could be a possibility.

  And then the question slams into me.

  If I’m not Rose’s father, then who is?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Aria

  The canyon is beautiful today and I take a photo of Rose in the all-terrain stroller with the sky blue above and the trail ahead. I send it to Tatum, expecting to see a quick response. He was gone when I woke up this morning but the note he left said he was meeting Knox for breakfast, then heading to physical therapy. He should be finished by now.

  Me: Wanna meet up for lunch? I’m starving. Sushi Mama?