Mine twitch, but they don’t quite make it to a smile. “Nah. I just took a shower.” I sigh, looking around to make sure no one else is here. “She can’t have children, and she doesn’t want them, either. So, basically, if we stay together, I know we won’thave kids. That’s why she insisted on keeping things casual, but then I fell for her, and she broke it off. Her exes all ended up leaving her after a few years because they realised they wanted kids and she didn’t.”
Finn exhales slowly, nodding. “That’s tough. But I get it. Honestly, it would be a deal-breaker for me.”
My head snaps toward him. “It would? So, you’ve seriously thought about having kids?”
“’Course I have,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you feel anything when you see those kids lined up in their little kits, waiting to walk us onto the pitch? When they’re bouncing on their heels with our names on their shirts? Doesn’t that make you want a few of your own?”
I shake my head slowly. “It really doesn’t. I mean, they’re cute and all, and I’m always happy to put a smile on a kid’s face, but that’s never crossed my mind.”
He leans back, studying me. “Wow. I never knew that about you, lad. Being married and becoming a dad is my ultimate dream.”
“I thought your dream was playing football?” I ask, genuinely surprised. I guess we’re both learning something about the other today.
“It was—well, it is—but that’s more like my dream career. Marriage and kids? That’s the dream life.”
“Seriously? When I think about my future, I see myself with a wife, but not necessarily the kids, you know?”
“No,” he frowns, chuckling.
“Well, what are you doing then, mate?” I ask. “Why aren’t you chasing your dream? Even Grumpy Cal is ahead of you.”
He blurts out a laugh. “The bloke got lucky. Do you think I’ve been here twiddling my thumbs? I’m trying, but finding the right girl isn’t easy. Most are immature, or they’re only interested in the money and the fame. We have a knack for attracting the wrong kind of women. Look at Cameron. Lad is finding one gold-digging or fame-hungry cailin after the other. Dating is brutal.”
I chuckle, feeling a little lighter already. He’s not wrong. Finding a girl when you’re a pro athlete isn’t as easy as one would expect. Well, I had the perfect one, a strong woman who didn’t care about my job or my money. “I hope you find her one day, mate.”
“Thanks.” He exhales. “So, you really never thought about being a dad?” he asks again, studying me. “You’re always hanging out with kids.”
I frown. “Yeah, but only because Iamone, you know?”
He laughs. “Fair point. Well, maybe you should just tell Kat that. That you don’t want kids either—or, at least, that it’s not a dream you’re holding on to.”
“You think itwould change anything?” I ask, my heart bouncing in my chest.
“I don’t know. But it can’t hurt to try. Maybe you two actually want the same things. You just don’t know it yet.”
He’s right. If my oldest friend didn’t know this about me, Kat doesn’t either. And this reality might just change her perspective. And if it doesn’t, at least I would have given it my best shot. Katherine is way too important for me to let her go without a fight.
Chapter 25
“Choosing you could never be a mistake, Kat.”
Archie
I have to leave for the match, but I knock on Kat’s door again once more before heading out. I’ve been trying for a few days, but she never seems to be home. That, or she’s avoiding me. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll have a few days off next week for Christmas. I’ll spy on her door all day and night if I have to.
I knock a few more times, listening for any noise coming from her apartment, but it’s no use. Sighing, I drag myself over to the lift. It opens with a ping, and like an apparition, there she is, holding a tote full of groceries. Her hair is piled into a loose bun that’s half fallen apart, her eyes underlined with dark circles—yet she’s never looked so beautiful.
“Hey,” I say, waving like an idiot.
She blinks, caught off guard. When she finally steps out of the lift, her gaze drops as she brushes past me. “Hey,” she murmurs.
I freeze, not sure how to even begin this conversation. But when she grabs her keys from her bag, I panic.
“I don’t care,” I blurt.
She pauses, hand hovering near the lock.
“I don’t care that you can’t—and don’t want to—have kids.”