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Make a DIFFerence with Asher Nash
I flesh out some final ideas, and then I spend some time looking at places in Vegas. It’s a search I gave up a while ago, but I really do think it makes the most sense.
All the places I liked two months ago have sold, but a new crop of houses are on the market. I bookmark a few I like, and I figure I’ll visit soon to choose the place that’s the best fit for me.
Addy and I had a long talk about our living arrangements, and she’s going to move in with Chloe and Lauren. It’s the best-case scenario even though I don’t want to give up this apartment or my life here in San Diego.
I have to, though. I’m considering it the first of the many sacrifices I’ll make as a mother, just like my own mother has done for me. And to that end, I want to make sure this little muffin in my oven has every chance in the world to be around her grandparents.
And by grandparents, I meanmyparents. Asher doesn’t talk very highly of his own father, and his mom is long-distance.
The thought pulses the ever-present fear about telling my parents about this. I love Asher, but wejustgot back together like twelve seconds ago. I need time to let this grow and develop before I’m ready to tell my dad, and I doubt Asher wants to make the admission mid-season when there’s so much on the line.
No, it’s better to let the season play out. That buys me a month or two, anyway, but by then, I’ll be showing, and it’s not like I really want to keep this a secret from my mom for that long.
I’ll tell them after Christmas. I’ll leave the father’s name out of it for now, and we’ll keep seeing each other in secret so we can figure out whether there’s really a future for us or if he’s sticking around because of the baby.
Though if fate put me in that chair beside him at the charity ball, then I think fate also put him in my apartment the same day I found out I was pregnant.
Fate keeps stepping in to push us together, and maybe I’m starting to believe in the cheesiness of it all a little.
By the time he arrives back at my place on Tuesday afternoon, he’s carrying a duffel bag of new clothes and toiletries he must’ve picked up in Arizona, and I have the proposal ready to present to him. I give him a quick kiss when I open the door to greet him, and then I pull him in.
“How did it go?” I ask a little tentatively.
“It was good. Or as good as it could be given the circumstances.” He shrugs.
“What’s the next step?” I study him as I try to find some clue as to how he’s feeling about it, but he’s a little guarded.
“I mean, it's not like they're going to change their last names and their entire lives to be part of the Nash family, but at the same time, I can almost see it happening down the road. For as much as my dad fell from grace, there's a history and a legacy with our last name, and I can't imagine they wouldn't want to be a part of that.”
“Who would've thought, two more Nash Brothers for the ladies to watch out for?” I tease.
He chuckles. “We didn't get into that kind of talk, but since they’re the same age as me and I'm the one who found out about our relationship, I think I can see myself forming a bond with them. Especially after the mentorship program I've been working on with Coach Dix…uh—your dad.” He gets a little awkward at the end, something that’s very unlike him.
“I knew you were working on a project with him. You two have gotten close, haven't you?” I ask.
He sighs. “Yeah, we have. And it throws more than a wrench into what we have, but to me, it’s worth whatever price I have to pay. But I need to know before we take this any further whether it's worth it to you, too.”
My brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if your dad doesn’t approve? What if he writes me off, or he writesyouoff? Is that something you can handle?” he asks.
I’m surprised by his question since he seemed to be all for telling my dad yesterday. I didn’t consider the thought that my dad might be mad atmefor going after a football player when he expressly told me not to. I guess I mainly pushed the whole idea out of my head, thinking we had plenty of time down the road to worry about it.
And we do, but the time is getting shorter and shorter by the day.
I want him to be with me through the pregnancy, but I also want to wait until the season is over. We can do both…right?
We were planning to see each other in secret anyway. We can figure out a way to make it work.
“I, uh…I don’t know,” I answer honestly, and then I shift the subject. “I have something for you.”
I spent most of the day today working on this project, and I’m excited to share it with him. It was exactly the distraction I needed, and I realize only now that I haven’t felt nauseous at all today.
I’m bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet as I hand him the paperwork I finished about an hour ago.
His brows crinkle together. “What’s all this?”
