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She shakes her head, and she sets her papers down as she watches me. “Can I ask you a question?”
I grab a glass out of the cabinet where I spotted them earlier when I made the soup, and I turn to face her. “Shoot.”
“What are you doing here?”
I snag my lip between my teeth. “I came to see Des.”
“Desi’s my best friend,” she says quietly. “And her dad always warned her about football players, especially after everything with her ex, but that girl is a stubborn one.”
I chuckle at her assessment. “So I’ve learned.”
“What are your intentions with her?”
“I suppose since she doesn’t want her father to know about us, you’re grilling me instead?” I tease.
“Look, I have a lot of papers to grade tonight,” she says, nodding to the stack. “I have little time to spare. I was here for her when you broke it off with her the first time, and I need to know you’re not going to choose her dad or football or anything else at all over her again.” She raises a pointed brow, and I get the very real sense that she doesn’t like me.
I suppose I haven’t given her a reason to.
I’m an offensive player through and through, though, so I don’t jump to the defense even though she’s trying to put me there. “I won’t. I realize the only person I need to promise that to is her, but I made the wrong decision the first time. I threw myself into work while we were apart, and I reached lofty goals I didn’t expect to reach. But at the end of the day…none of it meant a damn thing when I didn’t get to share it with her.” I press my lips together, and when I glance up and my eyes meet Addy’s, she looks a little misty.
“Atta boy,” she says, and for the first time, her lips tip up in a small smile. If she’s half as tough on her students as she is on me, well, they’re pretty damn lucky to have her.
“What grade do you teach?” I ask.
“Seventh.”
I think back to seventh grade. I was a little shit, that’s for damn sure. “Thank you for what you’re doing for them.”
She preens a little, and I think maybe I’ve got the best friend on my side.
I fill my water glass, and then I excuse myself back to the balcony to give my mother a call.
“Asher Joseph,whyyyydo you make your mother go weeks and weeks without a call?”
I laugh. “Because you text me nearly every day?”
“Still, I like to hear your voice.”
“I’ll start sending you voice memos,” I say dryly.
“What’s new, baby boy?” she asks.
I blow out a breath.
“Uh oh, that was a heavy one. What’d you do?”
“Why do you think it’s me?” I ask.
“Because I know my boys, and whenever you let out a heavy sigh like that, I know darn well something’s on your mind.”
“Fine,” I mutter, acknowledging that she knows me pretty damn well. “I, uh…I’m gonna be a dad.”
Shocked silence greets me on the other side, and then a gasp. “I’m gonna be a grammy again?” She sounds slightly choked up.
“Confirmed,” I say.
“Who’s the girl, and when can I meet her?”
