The Friend Zone (Game On, #2)(87)

Gently, I stroke his cheek, and the diamond glints in the low light. “No, Cupcake. You’re perfect. This ring is perfect. I love you so much.”

“That’s my line,” he whispers, and then he kisses me again. We tumble back onto the grass, laughing softly. Gray maps the contours of my face with his lips, all the while telling me the same thing. I love you. I love you. I love you.





Twenty-Nine





Gray


For almost two weeks, my home has been a hotel in New Orleans. I live and breathe football now. Practice, study, drills, sleep. Press junkets and mindless interviews. That’s my life. The playoff game is tomorrow, and everyone is so keyed up we just want it to be game day already. No more wading through a sea of agents and scouts and sponsors. No more smiling for the camera as we eat our free gumbo dinner. No more reading playbooks and watching footage until it runs through our heads in our sleep. Just let us play football.

This is the worst it’s been for me. Ivy thought that by staying away she’d help me keep focused. Not really. I’ve discovered that I need her with me or I feel unbalanced. I miss her so much my chest feels hollow, yet tight.

But finally she’s on her way and is due to arrive in a few hours. I’m antsy as all hell to see her. So much so that I physically have to keep moving to distract myself. One brutal workout later, and I get a text from Sean Mackenzie asking me to meet him in the hotel bar.

I’ve been avoiding him for a while. Mainly because Ivy and I haven’t decided what to do with the pregnancy. I know what I want, but I’m not going to push Ivy. I’ll state my case, but I won’t push. Stepping out of the shower, I towel off and text Mackenzie to set up a time.

Because there is one thing I’m not okay with hiding from him any longer.



* * *



Mackenzie is waiting for me at the bar. He’s already halfway through a tumbler of whiskey. I take the seat next to him and order an ice water.

“You ready for the game?” Mackenzie says by way of greeting.

“What’s that line?” I quip. “I was born ready.”

“John Wayne.” Mackenzie nods. “Cute.”

“John Wayne, really?” I take a sip of water. “I thought it was from Big Trouble in Little China.”

Mackenzie rolls his eyes. “Stop trying to make me feel old. Big Trouble was my generation’s movie. Used to watch that movie on the couch with Ivy’s mom.”

The thought of Mackenzie with Ivy’s mom brings everything back into focus. I take a breath and brace my palms on the bar. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Ivy already told me.” His mouth twists. “Via text.”

At my incredulous face, he hands over his phone. I read the text out loud. “‘Gray and I are together now. Don’t be pissy with him. It’s serious. And I’m happy.’”

Laughing low, I rub a hand over my face and give him back his phone. “Little wuss,” I mutter under my breath.

But apparently not low enough, because Mackenzie gives me a look. “Here’s a tip. My daughter likes to cut and run when she’s overwhelmed.”

“Already figured that one out.” Ivy and I are similar that way.

Mackenzie grunts. “You shouldn’t have touched her, Grayson. You know better.”

So, Ivy gets her directness from her dad. Good to know. I straighten my shoulders and turn to fully face him. “Well, this is awkward.”

Mackenzie snorts as if to say, No shit, kid.

I take a quick drink of my ice water before forging on. “The part of me that’s talking to Ivy’s dad says I respectfully understand your fears, sir, but I assure you hurting Ivy is the very last thing I’d ever do.” My grip on my glass tightens. “The part of me that sees you as a potential agent wants to tell you to f*ck off.”

He laughs outright. “Then we’re of a like mind, kid. Because part of me wants to kick your ass for even looking my daughter. And the other part wants to warn you to keep away from distractions. Namely of the female variety.”

Female variety. I want to roll my eyes. But he’s not saying anything new. “I love her.” He snorts again, and I give him a hard look. “You might as well hear it from me. I put a ring on her finger. We’re engaged to be engaged.”

Slowly Mackenzie lowers his glass and looks at me. His rough features are worn, pale. “Engaged to be engaged? What the hell does that mean?”

“Ivy’s words. The point is, I want to marry Ivy. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you insane? Kid, marriage is the last thing you need at this point in your career.”

I figure now is not the time to tell him Ivy’s pregnant. Plus, if we end up giving that news, it will be together. No way is Ivy wriggling out of it with a text.

“I know you think I’m like you,” I say in a low voice. “But I’m not.” And I really don’t give a shit that he’s now glaring murder at me. I continue without blinking. “Nothing on earth makes me happier than Ivy. And that includes football. So you can be pissed if you want, but I’m never going to be the one to walk out on Ivy.”

We sit locked in silence, the noise of the bar humming around us. Then Mackenzie sighs. “Well, then, if I was your agent, I’d advise that you keep your fiancée out of the spotlight as much as possible. I’d also advise that you play up your image as a family man, which will be difficult given your outer persona.”