I look down. “Did you get with me because you thought sex would relax you and help you play football? Because Jinxy told me that all of your friends knew you were, quote, ‘bangin’ the nanny.’”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Did I tell Jinxy I was open to hooking up with someone? Yes. You saw me out at the Buck ’Em Brewhouse that night, but I wasn’t feeling it, and I wasn’t about to sleep with someone I didn’t vibe with. For the record, I’m not a fan of hookups. That’s never been my scene, but I considered it because I didn’t think I could handle a relationship. Did Jinxy say sex would help me focus on football and chill out? Also yes. But I told him I wouldn’t consider going out with you because you were my nanny. The only reason that changed is because you moved in with me, and I couldn’t fucking help myself.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning at his admission. This is the most open he’s ever been with me, and my heart is practically fluttering.
He grabs my hand. “I swear I would never talk about the intimate things that happened between us with the guys. Jinxy saw you and me hanging out, and he thought I looked happy—which I was—and more relaxed on the field. He put two and two together. Jinxy and I got into it because I was pissed when I heard he was talking shit about you and letting Tiffany think I was somehow using you for sex.”
Nodding, I process everything he’s shared with me. I suppose it’s my turn to be vulnerable. “Do you remember when I told you that Ezra called me his lucky charm?”
He winces. “That’s what Jinxy called you, isn’t it?”
“Yes. What I didn’t tell you is that this was the whole reason Ezra dated me in the first place.” I explain how Ezra was so superstitious that he believed us being an item had something to do with him winning his dumb football game in high school and securing the starting QB position. “So even though I don’t think he ever had feelings for me, he freaking asked me to marry him because he was so irrational. That’s why I couldn’t come home Sunday night. When Jinxy told me I was your lucky charm and that you were with me for sex, I felt so stupid. I thought maybe you were using me like Ezra did.”
“Jesus, Abby. I’m sorry.” He takes my hand and tugs me to his chest. “I know I said some stupid shit at the hospital, but I couldn’t figure out why that would make you move out. By the time Hazel got discharged, I knew I needed to make a big-ass apology to you. I was shocked when I got home and you were gone. Now I get it. The way I reacted to the accident was the last straw.”
I close my eyes, but I don’t say anything.
Stroking my back, he whispers, “Baby, I’ve missed you so much.” We’re quiet for a long stretch. “You’re right about me needing therapy. I booked someone for the new year. It was the earliest I could get an appointment.”
“Have you ever talked with a therapist about Gemma?”
“No. I just gutted it out and took one day at a time and basically shut down. I don’t think… I don’t think I could deal with the truth.”
Frowning, I look up at him. “What truth?”
He takes a deep breath. “That I’m the reason Gemma died.”
The look of grief on his face makes me take his hand in mine. “But you said it was an accident. You didn’t drive her car. You were on the bus, right?”
His eyes get a faraway look in them as he stares across the room. “I guilted her into coming to my game that night. She wanted to hang out with friends. Gemma wasn’t a huge football fan, but I told her if she loved me, she’d support me, which is a stupid thing to say to a young mom who’s trying to stay afloat. But as you and I both know, I often say stupid shit at important moments in my life.”
I squeeze his hand. “You don’t need to feel guilty. You were young too. I see how hard you work to take care of Hazel while you juggle school and football. You were doing your best. Gemma would be proud of you.”
He swallows. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“At least you wanted her at your games. I never understood why Ezra didn’t want me to see him play. Now I understand. It’s because he didn’t love me.”
“Ezra’s a fool, but I have to admit he did me a solid.”
I lean back. “What does that mean?”
“No one knew how to get ahold of you. Your friends basically told me to fuck off. So the guys and I got together and brainstormed how to track you down. Dax suggested calling Ezra, so that’s what I did.”
My eyes widen. “You didn’t.”
“Swear to God, I did.”
I don’t even know what to say. “And he just gave you my address?”
“No, it wasn’t that easy. At first, he told me to fuck off, but then I reminded him that he was a shitty boyfriend to you. That he owed you for being such a prick. I think he actually felt bad.”
“Huh. And here I was thinking he was a sociopath.”
Nick laughs. “I don’t know that he’s not.”
My parents come stomping back in from the garage. They’re the two quietest people I know, so they’re obviously trying to give me a heads-up.
I scoot back from Nick so I don’t make my mom clutch her fake pearls again. “I should warn you,” I whisper. “My parents are huge football fans.”
