Page 99 of The Way We Collide

Prioritize her needs. It’s not the Hendrix Show anymore. I’m saying this with love—it’s how I got Liv back.

Iknow.

I do know. My big brother gives me shit all the time, but his words are true. It’s also why I haven’t let myself slow down long enough to think about it since that night after Wisconsin.

If I had my way, Raven would give up her silly notion of moving back to Atlanta and just stay here with me. Star never misses a chance to tell me how much they adore her at the station. I’m confident they’d give her a full-time job. It wouldn’t pay much, but she doesn’t need it. She has her money and mine.

So what if the job at KCLA is boring? So what if we have no weather in LA? I’ve learned to like the eternal sunshine. She might, too, if she tried.

Staring at my phone, the pit in my stomach tells a different story. I know what motivates Raven. She’s about making a difference, saving lives, and as the weeks fly past, faster and faster, I can’t deny what’s coming.

“I can’t believeit’s already December!” Raven stretches out on the oversized, buttery leather seat of the private jet.

Her face is freshly washed, her lips glossy, and with her hair swept back, she’s so pretty. Her amber eyes shine, and she’s wearing black yoga pants and a long-sleeved black tee. A glass of champagne is in her hand.

I can tell she’s excited to be going home. It’s the first time in three months…

Three months that passed like three days.

Every year, when the season takes off, it’s the same. Between training all week and games every weekend, I wake up and it’s Christmas then the playoffs and counting down to the final big game.

Sports media spent a minute on my personal life after mybig announcement. They posted pictures of Raven and me with Haddy leaving the house. They had pictures of me carrying Haddy into the stadium when I went to practice.

For the most part, the coverage was neutral, not nasty or invasive. The gossip site TMI tried to make a big deal out of me being a father, but they didn’t have much dirt to turn.

Somehow our courthouse wedding escaped their notice, likely because the old people running the show don’t have smartphones and only basic internet.

Everyone was way more interested in my gameplay.

We’ve had an incredible season. After a few early stumbles, we haven’t lost a single game. Tyler and I are the talk of the league, and commentators are already predicting us to win the Super Bowl.

They’re calling me one of the best tight ends in history, and it’s the capstone of what I’ve worked for my entire career.

It’s our bye week, the one week every season when we don’t have a game, and we’re making the most of it, starting with Zane and Rachel’s wedding in Newhope.

From there, we’ll drive to Atlanta to visit Raven’s father and sister—and sign off on her inheritance. After that…

My mind drifts to her nervous proposal, and all the things she said. At the time, she was desperate for me to help her. She was working with the old “no marriage, babies, or poop” Hendrix Bradford, and hoping I wouldn’t turn her down flat.

I don’t even know that guy anymore.

Raven rests her head on her hand, smiling at our baby girl in her carseat sucking a pacifier and holding Axel. “It seems like yesterday we were getting ready for her first Halloween.”

“She was the cutest little football.” I reach over and squeeze Haddy’s foot.

It was a funny joke about the first time I tried to hold her. What a dumbass I was.

We walked around the neighborhood trick-or-treating, getting a bunch of candy she couldn’t eat. Then Thanksgiving came,and we ordered plates and shared puréed turkey with her while we chatted on FaceTime with the family.

At the end of the day, I watched Raven holding her, giving Haddy her bottle, and like a punch in the chest, I realized how fucking thankful I was for them.

“She’s nine months old,” Raven playfully wails.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat, thinking how much they’ve become a part of my life in such a short time.

“She has four teeth—four!” Raven’s pretty brown eyes are wide as she holds up four fingers.

“I know. She bit the crap out of my shoulder the other day.”

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