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“So, what’s the game plan?” Weston asks, a look of pity crossing his rugged features.

I squint at him. “Do you even fucking shave anymore? Just because you got engaged, dude—” I don’t get to finish that statement before a throw pillow comes sailing past my head.

“Fuck you,” he mutters.

I raise the bottle of whiskey. “I’ll drink to that.”

Colin grabs the bottle from my hand and recaps it. “Enough of that. You’ll be fucking useless tomorrow.”

He’s right. We have practice in the morning. None of us should be drinking, but I appreciate the fact that they’re here for me.

“I asked her to meet me for breakfast tomorrow.” I’ll be done with practice early since tomorrow is special teams practice with the offensive coordinator. I’m usually only there until ten or so. It leaves plenty of time to meet her before her shift, if she’s working.

“What’d she say?” Weston asks.

Just as I open my mouth to reply that she hasn’t responded, my phone chirps from the coffee table.

Colin snatches it before I do. His face breaks into a smile. “We’d better get you to bed, princess. You’ll need your beauty sleep.” I grab for my phone, but he continues holding it. “You’ve got a date with your girl in the morning.”

She’s not my girl, but I want her to be.

One step at a time. Time to get these goons out of my apartment.

Chapter Twenty

Alexei

Ryleigh sits across from me, her legs folded beneath her on the booth. She’s rigid, and has barely looked at me. It stings more than I’d like to admit. She’s dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt that keeps falling off one shoulder, her hair is up in a messy bun like she couldn’t be bothered with it this morning, but she still looks so good that it hurts to know I can’t reach over and touch her.

She finally responded to my text late last night and agreed to breakfast. After that, Weston and Colin left, and I tried in vain to sleep. Practice was a blur, and now I’m here.

My stomach is in knots, and I hate everything about this. Ella rests next to her, still strapped into the baby carrier. I wish she’d cry, scream, do something, because at least then it would match how I feel right now.

I lean in closer. “Did I do something wrong?”

Ryleigh’s eyes flash to mine. “No. Of course not. You’ve been incredible. More than I could have ever asked for.”

The waitress chooses that moment to deliver the coffees we’ve both ordered.

“Thank you.” Ryleigh reaches for her mug and dumps in a generous splash of cream.

The waitress flips open a notepad and looks at me. “What are you having?”

“Five eggs, over easy. Breakfast sausage. Two pancakes with bacon, and a side of wheat toast, please.” My gaze swings to Ryleigh, who’s stirring her coffee, staring at it intently rather than looking at me. “Ry?”

“Oh, nothing for me. Just coffee.”

I shake my head. “You’re eating. What do you want? Eggs? Pancakes?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. French toast, please. With a side of bacon.”

Satisfied, the waitress flips her notebook closed and saunters away.

Ryleigh’s got to get over this whole thing about me paying. I make millions, and it does me no good sitting in a bank account. I enjoy treating my friends and family. It pisses me off when she takes that away from me, and I think I’ve done everything I can to not make her feel like she and Ella are a financial burden.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to compose myself. My chest feels tight, and I have no idea why I’m out of breath like I just ran a four-second forty.

Ella wakes suddenly, letting out a sharp cry.