“Only when they tap-dance on my cervix.”
I scratch my head. “I’m not sure what that means, but it doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“And you’re supposed to be the smart one.” She gives me another one of those impish grins, and I kiss her again.
“Got some good news. Great news, actually.”
“Tell me.”
I give her the rundown and relay what Coach told me.
When I’m done, she grabs my hand. “I’m so proud of you. That’s amazing. Congrats.”
“I’m so relieved, Mags. I can pay for our hospital bill with that money. Afford those meds for Gramps. Pay that property tax bill. It’ll carry us until I get drafted.”
She frowns. “I don’t expect you to pay my tax bill, and I’m not sitting around making plans for your draft payday.”
“I know that, but we’re a team, which means we should help each other. You’re gonna let me help you, right? The same way you helped me by putting together a workout room?”
“That’s not the same thing.” Her gaze drops to her lap. “It’s hard for me to accept help. I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
This again? “Magnolia, you’re having my babies. This shit all happened backwards. In a perfect world, we woulda dated and gotten married first before we had kids. Then you’d have no problem with this.”
“But we’re not married.” She holds up her hand. “For the record, I’m not asking you to propose.”
Is she trying to tell me she doesn’t want to marry me… ever? “Why not?”
Her head tilts. “Why not what?”
“Why don’t you want me to propose? I knocked you up. Shouldn’t we get married?”
Her eyes dim. “That’s not why I’d want to get married.”
“What’s a good reason, then?” Seeing how squirrely this conversation is making her kinda pisses me off.
She slams her laptop shut. “Not obligation.”
Fuck. What is it with this woman? “I wouldn’t be doing this out of obligation.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Needing to put this fire out before it gets out of control, I shake my head. “I don’t want to argue with you. In fact, I need your opinion about something.”
The discussion about wedding bells will have to wait. She’s not supposed to get riled up or upset, and arguing about the fact that I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her will have to wait until the subject doesn’t jack her blood pressure. Although, honestly? The fact that discussing marriage turns her green makes my heart sink.
She huffs out a breath. “I wasn’t arguing.”
Sure. Okay. We’ll go with that for now.
“I need to tell Coach about our pregnancy. I almost did it today, but then a recruiter wanted to talk to Santos.” Coach is known for open practices and letting them watch film, and after our great game against UT, we’ve had more than usual.
That should be good news. Santos says it’ll increase our odds of getting drafted because the recruiters get to know us better. Only having those guys around every corner makes me extra-wary about spilling the beans to Coach about the pregnancy. Now that we’re closer to reaching Maggie’s due date, though, I have to find a private moment to discuss it with him.
Bracing my elbows on my knees, I run my hands through my hair. “The endorsement with Big Tykes is contingent upon me having a good reputation. They think I’d be a great role model for the kids at their camp. And I’m afraid if I…” Fuck, how do I say this?
“If you tell them your girlfriend is pregnant, that it’ll blow the deal.”
I try to keep the wince off my face. “Yeah.”
“So wait.”
“Wait?”
