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“Home,” he says, his eyes twinkling.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Where?” I repeat.
“Our home.”
My lips tip up into a smile. “I’d love to.”
On the wayhome, a word that puts warmth into my chest every time I merely think about the house Asher bought for us, we chat about what we have going on in the coming weeks.
“What do you usually do in the offseason?” I ask.
He chuckles as he glances out the window of the backseat we’re sitting in together. “Usually I do whatever the hell I want. Last year, I went to Australia for a month. The year before, I took a trip to Costa Rica. Sometimes I travel, sometimes I spend time hiking or biking or finding some adventure. But this offseason, I have Ellie filling up my calendar with appearances.”
“How are the sponsorships coming along?” I ask.
He lifts a shoulder. “Not great. I have a couple of offers, but nothing worth the effort. But appearances? Every nightclub in Vegas is thrilled to invite Asher Nash to party for a few hours. My social calendar is full.”
“Do you like doing them?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at the thought of him out partying every night of the week.
“Not really.” He lifts a shoulder. “It’s an hour or two of fake smiles for photos and pretending like I’m having a good time with people I don’t know.”
“Then why are you doing them?”
He glances at me, and it’s hard to read his eyes in the dark backseat of an Uber. “Because I have a baby on the way, and it’s extra cash in the bank.”
My chest tightens at his words. There’s something so sweet about the sentiment that heat pinches behind my eyes.
“You don’t have to do that. We’ll be fine.”
He leans over toward me and presses his lips to my cheek. “Yes, I do.”
The sentiment feels so honest and sweet. So perfect, just like everything seems to feel when it’s just the two of us.
I just wish my dad could see it, too.
Chapter 58: Desiree Dixon
Good Thing He’s Got You
I wake before he does in our new bed in our new home together. I’m snuggled into his side, and his arm is tossed around my waist.
I can’t wait to wake up every morning exactly like this…especially if we get to have the kind of night that knocks us both out the way last night did after we got here and had sex in our new bed for the first time.
None of my stuff is here, so I can’t take a shower, brush my teeth, apply makeup, or change my clothes, but soon enough, I’ll be able to do all those things. The thought sends a thrill of excitement through me.
It’s crazy how quickly priorities can change. I went from wanting to find a friend with benefits in Vegas to moving in with a football player whose baby I’m having.
I snuggle more closely into him as he sleeps quietly beside me, and I listen to his breathing as I watch the rise and fall of his chest. It’s as I lay here, still in the quiet of morning, that I feel something in my stomach. It’s a flutter—barely a whisper—but it’s something, and it fills my heart in a way I wasn’t expecting.
I’ve been sick, and I’ve been tired and moody and achy. But this is the first time I’ve felt movement in there. I may have seen the baby on the screen at my ultrasound appointment, but this is different. It’s a signal to me that there really is a baby, and I move my hand down protectively over my stomach to let her know I’m right here.
I don’t feel that same movement with my hand. Just inside. But soon enough, she’ll be kicking, and I’ll wake Asher to presshis hand there to feel it, too. And he’ll look at me and smile warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners with the pure joy that we’re both feeling these days.
I can’t wait for those sweet little moments with him.
This wasn’t something I was ever sure I wanted, but now that I’m on the path toward it, it’s something I don’t think I could ever live without.
Eventually he wakes, and he leans over and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Morning,” he grunts.
