Coach Allen rented a swanky bar five blocks away. It was a chance for the team, coaching staff, family members, and close friends to toast our victory. A chance to wear suits and let our hair down away from the fans and cameras in a private venue with black leather booths, sleek lighting, and waitstaff in bow ties. The food didn’t stop coming. Neither did the drinks. But it didn’t carry the same energy as this celebration.
No one seems to care that we’re seeded seventh in the playoffs. Bottom of the bracket. The long shot of all long shots. It’s going to take everything and then some to claw our way to the top. Hell, it’s going to take a miracle to survive the first round.
“Thought you’d be on the dance floor by now, Chase,” someone shouts in my ear, disappearing into the crowd before I’ve had a chance to reply, let alone see who it was.
They’re right. Other nights like this, I’m first to suggest shots and games and fun. I used to be the guy who kept things light. Smiles came easily. Laughter wasn’t something I had to search for. But tonight, the questions running through my head don’t let up. I thought I lived for football. I thought it was all I cared about. But as I stand in the corner, watching the party go on around me, football feels like the least important thing in my life right now.
Across the bar, Rob and Jake are dancing on a table in cowboy hats and oversized pink sunglasses. Rob has his tie tied around his forehead like a kid. Harper and Dylan are laughing from the ground. Everyone’s drunk. Loud. Celebrating. And I’m standing here, stone-cold sober, and feeling like I’ve had enough laser focus, enough pretending everything is OK when it’s not. Because Serena’s pregnant with my baby, and she’s alone and scared and I’m not by her side. Jake’s right. None of this means a damn thing without her.
I catch sight of JT weaving his way toward me. Tall, athletic, and every bit the class clown, his lopsided smile used to match mine, back when I remembered how to smile like that.
“This is our year, man,” JT shouts in my ear over the music, beer-slurred and loud. He throws an arm around my shoulders. “We’re gonna show that New York douche who bought our team that we’re too good to split up. I can feel it.”
I’m grateful when JT’s girlfriend drags him off to dance before I have to find a reply. I place down the bottle of beer I haven’t touched and start to make my way to the door. It takes me a while to escape the sea of celebrations and congratulations. Everyone wants to hug and chat and snap a selfie. I smile, pose,do what’s expected. But the entire time, my eyes are fixed on the door and escape.
I pass Flic collecting glasses near the bar and mean to say goodbye, but those aren’t the words that come out.
“Have you seen Serena?” I blurt.
Flic’s stare hardens just a fraction. Just enough to let me know I’m in the shit, even though she still loves me.Fair, I think. Completely fair.
“A few weeks ago,” she says. “We had lunch together just before Christmas.”
“Do you know?” I ask, not wanting to mention the pregnancy if Serena hasn’t told anyone yet.
Flic frowns. “Know what?”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Flic rolls her eyes, dumps the glasses, and reaches up to pull me into a fierce hug. “Get your head out your ass, Chase,” she says in my ear. “Come find me tomorrow if you want more pep talks. Right now, I’m a staff member down on our busiest night of the year and I’ve got a total stranger stepping in behind my bar wanting to help.”
She looks over to where a guy in chinos is rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“I know,” she says with another eye roll. “He looks like he’s stepped out of a Ralph Lauren catalog, doesn’t he? But I need all the help I can get.”
“You want me to stay?” I offer.
Flic’s reply is fierce. “What I want is for you to go find Serena, which is where I hope you were heading off to.” She moves away, only turning back to me to mouth, “Head out your ass,” again.
And damn it, she’s right. Jake’s right. The fear returns. Not about the baby or the future, but that I’m too late to be part of something I don’t feel ready for but can’t turn my back on. Suddenly, I can’t move fast enough as I step outside into the ice-cold night. Fresh snow is falling lazily to the ground, covering the frozen snowdrifts that line the edges of the sidewalks. The cold air bites, and for the first time in weeks, I feel clear. All I want is to find Serena. To make sure she’s OK. To tell her I love her. Tell her how sorry I am. After that? I don’t know.
I jump in my truck and head across town to Serena’s apartment. The traffic is light this time of night on a Sunday, and I reach her street in no time. There’s a light on in her top floor apartment. I stare at it, heart hammering. She’s there. She’s awake. Before I know it, I’m running. It doesn’t feel like I can go another second without her.
I tap in the code at the front entrance and climb the stairs two at a time. When I reach her apartment, I pause for a moment to catch my breath. Then knock gently.
“Serena,” I say through the door, heart pounding. “It’s Chase. Can we talk?”
There’s a long pause. Long enough to make my stomach turn inside out. Then just when I think she’s going to refuse to let me in—and I wouldn’t blame her—the door opens. But it’s not Serena standing there. It’s Liv. Her dark hair is tucked behind her ears, and I know from the look she gives me that she knows everything.
“I’ve fucked up,” I blurt out.
She doesn’t disagree as she steps aside. “You’d better come in.”
“Thanks,” I reply, stepping into the apartment and closing the door.
Liv turns, grabbing a throw pillow and packing it into a box. “I’m just packing up the last of our things. The lease ends tomorrow.”
I glance around the apartment. It’s empty. Bookshelves with no books. Walls with no pictures. A couch with no throw pillows.It looks bare and cold. I bite back a groan. It looks exactly like my apartment, and my house at the ranch.