Page 59 of Power Play Daddies
It makes me feel like I’d do just about anything to keep that smile there.
I take her hand. “Let’s go.”
The locker room’s still buzzing, but I block it all out. The roar of voices fades as we make our way to the parking lot.
No one stops us; they’re all too hyped about the game.
When we reach the cars, she glances at my bike, then at her car. “Can we take mine?”
I chuckle. “Of course. You wanna drive, or should I?”
“You can drive.”
I take the keys and slide into the driver’s seat. Her car smells like vanilla. Like her.
I glance at her as I start the engine. She’s staring out the window, quiet. I reach over and take her hand. Her fingers are soft and warm against mine.
When we pull up to the taco truck, I park and turn to her. “What’s your order, baby?”
She rattles it off, and I nod. Pulling off my hoodie, I drape it over her shoulders. “I’ll be right back.”
The line’s short. Just one person ahead of me, and they ask for an autograph. I scribble my name on their napkin, but my mind’s somewhere else.
Pregnant. Daisy’s pregnant.
How the hell did this happen? My brain replays every moment, every kiss, every touch.
There’s no way I’m walking away from this. From her.
I grab our food and head back to the car. The sight of her sitting there, wrapped in my hoodie, hits me like a slap. She looks so… tired. Vulnerable. But strong, too.
I slide into the driver’s seat and hand her the food. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She opens the container and takes a tentative bite.
“Good?” I ask, watching her.
She nods, her lips curving into another faint smile. “Yeah. It’s good.”
And just like that, I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s okay.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Daisy
Kieran’s sittingacross from me, eating like he doesn’t have a care in the world, while I’m over here watching him like he’s a goddamn puzzle I can’t figure out.
Why isn’t he running? Why isn’t he freaking out? Hell,I’mbarely holding it together. My stomach’s all knotted, and it’s not from the tacos.
He glances up mid-bite, eyes catching mine. “You sure you don’t want some of this? You’re just sitting there, staring.”
I shake my head. “I’m good.”
“You’re lying.” His voice is teasing, but his gaze sharpens. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I huff, crossing my arms on the table. “How are you not asking more questions? Freaking out even a little? Since the second the doctor confirmed it, I’ve been a mess.”
He sets the taco down, wiping his fingers on a napkin before reaching across the table to cup my cheek. His touch is gentle, grounding.
