“I haven’t had time,” I answer, keeping my voice low, but Layla, Elena, and Hannah have moved next to each other and are discussing something else, so I’m not too worried about them overhearing. Plus, they’ll all find out soon enough, anyway. Because once I tell Chris, I know he won’t be able to keep the news to himself.
Thankfully, the guys return after only a few minutes, all looking like lost little boys. Abby stands and goes to Lance, while Chris slips into her vacated seat. I stand and gesture for him to scoot back from the table so I can settle in his lap.
He sighs, a sound equal parts sadness and relief, as his arms wrap around me and pull me close. I examine him while his attention is elsewhere, his gaze abstract and pointed somewhere off to his right, the muscles in his jaw tightening and relaxing rhythmically.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, just loud enough to be heard.
His hazel eyes find mine, and he sighs again. “Yeah. It’s just …” He looks around the room again before refocusing on me. “Coach confirmed what Evan said. He put a good face on it, smiled and said it was time, he’d had a good run, he was looking forward to spending time with his new granddaughter and fishing more instead of hanging out in a smelly locker room full of arrogant jocks. We all laughed and joked about how great retirement will be. But he’s a damn good coach. The best. He cares about his players and gets the best out of them. He built this program basically from nothing, has taken it through one division change years ago and built it up to be ready to make another hop to Division I, and now they’re shitcanning him? It’s not right.”
Cupping his cheeks in my hands, I hold his face still and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Should we go?” I ask quietly.
He leans forward and kisses me again before nodding and letting me go so I can stand. “Yeah. I need a few minutes to settle down, then we’ll head to Lance’s. I’ll let him know we’ll catch up to everyone there.”
I gather my purse while he leans in and tells Lance our plan, and my stomach flip flops. This is my chance.
No, granted, this might not be the ideal time, since he’s upset about Coach Hanson’s retirement, but I’ve been waiting for the ideal time for days. Maybe this news will cheer him up.
Yeah. That’s how I’ll frame it. I know you’re sad about Coach Hanson and worried about your shoulder, but I have some good news that might make you feel better, or at least distract you from the other stuff. We’re having a baby.
And then he’ll hug me and kiss my belly and cry happy tears of joy. That’s what happens in all the best stories, right?
But looking at his despondent face, I somehow doubt that’ll be exactly what happens.
I give him my best hopeful smile as he tangles his fingers with mine and leads me out of the conference room. We collect our coats from the coat check in the hall, and he holds mine for me to slip into, puts on his own, then we head for the door, hand-in-hand.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he murmurs once we’re outside, our breath puffing in clouds over our heads. He glances at me, his brows knitted together as he looks me up and down. “I know you’re not really dressed for a walk. Hell, I’m not either. But I need to move to process this.”
Nodding, I release his hand, but only so I can thread my arm through his. “Let’s wander around campus a bit. We’ll take the long way back to the car. I haven’t been here in ages. It’ll be a nice walk down memory lane.”
He gives me a grateful smile, and we set off into the night, the skeleton trees reaching their arms up to the cloudy sky, our feet crunching on the ice melt scattered across the walkways. Fortunately I wore ballet flats, so while they’re not the warmest shoes and my toes will be freezing by the time we get to the car, they’re more comfortable for walking around than heels.
We wander in silence for a few minutes, slowly making our way over the brick-paved center mall of campus, past the student center, over toward the athletics complex. Memories flicker through me—bumping into Chris there, going to his football games, hurrying from one class to the next, all the late nights in the tutoring center—and a small smile lifts the corners of my mouth.
Chris glances at me, an answering smile on his face. “What are you thinking about?”
I turn my face to his, the yellow glow from one of lamps illuminating us. “You. Us. When we first were getting together, and how you were all protective of me when Isaac was being an asshole.” He lets out a growl that makes me laugh. “And I see nothing’s changed.”
He pulls me in and settles his hand on my waist, lowering his head to touch his lips to mine. “I’ll always be protective of you.”
“Back atcha,” I tell him, and his grin grows wider.
We stand in our bubble of light, just looking at each other, and slowly the smile on his face dims, and he examines my face, his eyes narrowing. “I feel like things with you have been a little off since we got here. Is everything all right? Did something happen before I got here that you didn’t tell me about? Or back at home before you left?”
I suck in a sharp breath. Of course Chris noticed I’ve been distracted and quieter than normal.
“What’s wrong?” he demands. “Tell me.”
Squeezing his arm, I shake my head and muster up my best smile. Because as much as I’m excited about the possibilities of having a baby with him, some part of me is still worried. And afraid. And ashamed. It’s stupid,
