“Yeah, well…we’ll see about that,” Mark said, unsure where to even begin with all that. He wanted Tessa more than made sense, but he wasn’t idiot enough to think that this invitation into Angus’s life meant anything for the two of them. If anything, he was waiting for her to drop the bomb that she had a boyfriend in the wings. Or maybe he’d run into him himself when he went to Angus’s school tomorrow.

  Once he and his granddad hung up, he found a few of his teammates looking at him expectantly.

  “You’re a daddy, huh?” James said, his eyebrows shooting to the ceiling.

  “Sure am.” Just saying the words made his chest swell.

  “You never mentioned that before,” James noted.

  “Well, I just found out recently.” Mark hoisted his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. James and Maxwell and a couple others were the only ones left in the locker room. “Kind of a long story, but…yeah. I’ve got a five-year-old now.”

  “Lemme guess. High school sweetheart?” Maxwell said.

  Mark laughed. “Called out. How’d you guess?”

  “You’re too young for anything else,” Maxwell teased. “You sure it’s yours?”

  “This kid is the spitting image of me when I was that age,” Mark said. “He can’t be anyone else’s.”

  “Pics or it ain’t real,” James said.

  Mark dug out his phone and swiped through a few pictures from their outing to the petting zoo yesterday. His teammates nodded as they assessed the images.

  “Yep. Looks like Coleridge,” James said.

  “Get the paternity test anyway,” Maxwell advised.

  Mark laughed, just as his phone vibrated with a text from Tessa. “Personal experience or something?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny,” Maxwell said cryptically. James and Maxwell started ribbing each other while Mark checked out Tessa’s message. She had sent along a photo of a drawing that Angus had made at school that day, which brought a huge smile to his face.

  Mark said goodbye to his buddies and left the locker room, calling Tessa on his way to the parking lot.

  “You liked the picture?” she asked in lieu of a greeting.

  “Loved it,” Mark said as the bright afternoon sun beat down on him. He slid his sunglasses on as he headed for his car. “You guys done with school for the day?”

  “Yeah. We’re home now, and I’m going to work on lesson plans and get dinner ready.”

  “Need any help?” The question came out before he could even think twice. He had nowhere else to be…but there was nowhere else he’d rather be than getting to know Angus and Tessa a hell of a lot better.

  “I…” She paused, which made Mark think he’d overstepped.

  “I want to see Angus,” he clarified. “Kinda didn’t want to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, sure. Come over. Why not?”

  “Great. I’m just leaving practice…you need anything from the store? I can pick something up.”

  “No, I have everything here,” she said. “Don’t worry. As long as you’re okay with spaghetti…”

  He grinned. “Like you don’t know that spaghetti is my all-time favorite.”

  She snorted. “Okay. You’re more than fine with spaghetti, I know.”

  “Except now I eat a lot more, so you should probably make double.” When she giggled, he asked, “What time should I be there?”

  “Whenever you want. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  Mark hung up with a perma-grin on his face. He really liked how that sounded. As he pulled out of the parking lot of the training facility, he decided he wasn’t going to show up empty-handed, even if she claimed to not need anything.

  Mark was a dad now, and that meant going above and beyond.

  For his son…and also for Tessa.

  6

  Knock knock knock.

  Anxiety vibrated through Mark as he waited on Tessa’s front doorstep. It was close to four thirty, but it felt like he was late. Because, well, he was. Late by five years. He had so much catching up to do; he just hoped he could fit it all in.

  Tessa pulled open the door a moment later, and Angus zipped around behind her, sporting his stain-free, oversized jersey.

  “Daddy Mark!” he cried out.

  “Hey, Mark,” she said, smoothing the front of her sunflower-print dress. She looked teacher-appropriate in the dress with her white-blonde tresses pulled back into a low, smart bun, but he couldn’t help but think about what would happen if he pulled her hair loose and let it tumble around her shoulders. He blinked a few times, unable to rip his gaze off her.

  “You coming in?” she prompted after a moment.

  “Yeah. Sorry, I’m just…” His heart raced as he contemplated outing himself so soon. Just blown away by how much I still want to toss you over my shoulder like I used to. He could imagine how feather-light she’d feel to him now, after all these years of building muscle mass and strength. “You look so cute.”

  “Really?” She scrunched her nose as she looked down at her dress. “I’m still in my work clothes. It was Flower Day at school.”

  “I can tell.” He flicked at her bun as he stepped inside, which made her neck flush. But before he could get lost in flirting with her—which still came as easily to him as always, he’d found out today—he turned his attention to Angus. “How you doing, big guy?”

  “I’m good, I’m good!” He hopped again, and Mark admired his form.

  “You can jump high. That’s really good for a kid your age.”

  “You think so?” Angus started focusing on his jumping.

  Mark held his hand down around Angus’s knees. “Can you jump higher than this?”

  Tessa snickered. “Of course you two would immediately launch into a training session.”

  “Gotta get my kid ready for his first season,” Mark said, finding Tessa watching him with a look so tender that it almost made him tip over.

  “Well, I’m going to get started on dinner.” Before she walked away, she nodded at the bags in his hand. “What did you bring?”

  “Oh, right.” He straightened, sending a mischievous glance to Angus. “Just some surprises. No big deal.”

  “What are they, what are they?” Angus demanded.

  “How about you guys give me a house tour first, and then I’ll consider revealing my surprises?” he said.

  “Sounds fair to me,” Tessa said, clapping her hands. She led him through the downstairs portion of the house, pointing out the cozy living room, the kitchen, the small but elegant dining room. He dropped off his bag in the kitchen before they headed upstairs, where two bedrooms and a guestroom waited for them. After she showed off Angus’s bedroom and her office, which doubled as guest room with a sofa for her father, she turned to head back downstairs, but he grabbed her wrist.

  “You didn’t show me your bedroom,” he said, unable to prevent the devilish intent of his words from shining through. There was something about being in her space after so long. This was exactly the type of house he’d always imagined for Tessa. Cozy, cute, and just enough. Nothing excessive. Everything practical but intentional.

  She scoffed. “You really want to see it?”

  “Of course. I need to see if you still have One Direction posters hanging up.”

  She headed for her bedroom, pushing open the door while Angus stayed busy in his own room. “I’ll have you know those are no longer hanging…but they are stored away for when I maybe have a daughter.”

  “Ahh. You want more.” He leaned against her doorframe, assessing the neatly made queen bed, wooden dresser set with matching night stands, and the elegant framed artwork on the wall. “So you’ll be needing my services again?”

  She snorted, swatting at his chest. He caught her hand in his without even meaning to and they shared an intense look.

  “Sorry,” he said after a moment, letting go of her. It was too easy to fall into the past around her. Five years felt like an eternity and also like five minutes. If only he could pick one and stick with it, he might be able to handle this a little better.

  “Isn’t Mom’s room nice?” Angus asked, suddenly between the two of them. “Are you going to sleep in her bed too?”

  He and Tessa shared a wide-eyed look, neither of them able to squeak out a response. Tessa laughed first, though, and said, “Your dad has his own house, honey. Which I’m sure you’ll be visiting plenty soon.”

  “It’s pretty nice,” Mark said. “Not quite as nice as this, but…”

  “Oh, please. It has to be nicer than what an early career elementary teacher can afford.”

  “No, because don’t forget, you have better taste than I do.”

  She smirked at him, that same contagious familiarity dancing in her gaze. How could he not fall into the past when she looked at him like that? She was practically begging him to pick up where they’d left off.

  Except that was a dangerous assumption…and he didn’t want to ruin things before they’d even gotten started.

  Tessa led him back downstairs, where Angus herded him into the living room.

  “I’ll let you two play,” Tessa said with a wink at Mark before disappearing into the kitchen.

  Angus guided Mark through a wonderland of his most prized possessions, which included a Nerf football, a huge dinosaur stuffed animal, and a series of worn footballs. Mark immediately wanted to grab a ball and start tossing it with his son, but he opted to let Angus take the lead on what they should do. There would be plenty of time to play football together.

  At least he hoped so.

  Angus ran to his dresser and grabbed a stack of collectible game cards with cartoon characters on them and started describing each one, then got distracted by his new colored pencils and the drawing he’d made, then he ran to his bed to show off his somersaults. Mark tried not to laugh as the boy cycled through all of the different activities at the same time. It was as if he was trying to make up for lost time. They played until the wafting scents of dinner become too delicious to bear.

  “You sure you don’t want any help setting the table?” Mark called out after his stomach rumbled for the third time.

  Tessa protested, as expected, but he joined her anyway and found her plating the food.

  “God, it smells amazing,” he said, coming up to her side. Their arms brushed, but he tried to ignore the crackle of electricity under his skin.

  “I’m pretty proficient at spaghetti these days.” She sent him a playful smile. “I’ve only made it one million times for this picky eater.”

  “He may be picky, but he’s not wrong,” Mark said, leaning against the countertop and crossing his arms. “And you made garlic bread. This is the only way to a man’s heart. Or boy’s.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re hungry and probably eat eight thousand calories a day,” she teased, knocking him with her hip as she carried two adult-sized plates of spaghetti to the table.

  “Let me get the silverware,” he offered, tugging at various drawers until he found the right one. Angus skidded into the kitchen, sniffing the air.

  “Oh my gosh, my favorite,” he oozed, sliding into the chair with the kid-sized portion of spaghetti.

  “He always used to call it sketti when he was little,” Tessa said as Mark dropped off the silverware for their place settings.

  “Why don’t you still call it that?” Mark asked Angus.

  “Because I’m not a baby anymore,” he said with an eye roll. Mark laughed, heading for the bags he’d brought on the kitchen island. He pulled out a bottle of wine—the pinot grigio she’d ordered at the wine bar the other night—and asked, “You have a corkscrew?”

  She told him where then slowed, squinting at the bottle. “Isn’t that…?”

  “What you had the other night, yes,” he said, pulling the cork with a soft pop. “You seemed to like it, so I thought why not?”

  “Wine glasses are next to the stove,” she said with a wink. He grabbed the glasses and poured a generous serving for each of them. He wasn’t a wine drinker and had no idea how to select a good one, so he’d been thankful when the wine bar helped him track down this bottle from last week.

  The three of them sat down to dinner then, all smiles. Angus looked especially pleased as he dug into his food, casting secretive looks between him and Tessa.

  Mark made sure to keep the conversation light and flowing while they ate, and he savored every last bite of food on his plate. This certainly wasn’t something he’d ever expected to experience in his life—a warm family dinner with Tessa. With his family. It was hard not to imagine asking to join in on this every week. It seemed like it would be good for Angus. And definitely good for him and Tessa.

  “So what’s on deck for after dinner?” he asked. “Dessert? TV?”

  “We usually clean up and then head upstairs to get ready for bed.”

  “Well, tonight, I’m adding one more step to that,” Mark said, returning to the last bag he’d brought. He handed it over to Angus, who received it with wide eyes. “This is for you, buddy. Open it up.”

  Angus tore into the bag, and revealed a brand-new book titled Frankie the Football Star. Angus grinned up at Tessa and clutched the book to his chest. “Mom, can Daddy Mark read me my nighttime book tonight?”

  Tessa looked at Mark expectantly. “I think that’s up to him.”

  “Of course, big guy,” Mark said, squeezing his son’s hand across the table. “I’d love to. Thanks for asking me.”

  Mark got a head start on collecting dishes, which he tried to load in the dishwasher before Tessa intervened. He shooed her away, promising he’d clean up while she took Angus up for his bath.

  While the two were upstairs, Mark took his time puttering around the kitchen. He absorbed all of Tessa’s little touches—the little framed drawings from Angus, the salt and pepper shakers in the shape of tiny pigs, the way all her hand towels hung neatly tri-folded. She’d always been a neatnik, and he wasn’t surprised to see this quality amplified in her adulthood. He’d always figured it came from the fact that she’d had an inattentive father who could barely pick up after himself.

  When Tessa called for him to join them a half hour later, he found the two of them in Angus’s bedroom. Angus was in fresh pajamas and holding his new book. Tessa sat at the edge of his bed, patting the empty spot next to her.

  “You think you’ll fit?” she teased him.

  He’d more than doubled his body mass since senior year, and at six feet tall, he wasn’t a small dude.

  “I’ll sit right here,” he said, easing onto the floor beside Angus’s bed so he could rest his back against it. “That way we’ll all fit.”

  By the time Mark finished the story about a young football fan turned famous football star, Angus had droopy eyelids.

  “I think that’s my cue,” Mark said, setting the book down. He ruffled his son’s hair before stepping out of the bedroom. “Night, big guy.”

  Tessa pressed a kiss to Angus’s forehead and shut the door quietly behind them. In the hallway, she smiled up at him, but Mark spotted nervousness in her gaze.

  “Let’s go downstairs,” Tessa suggested suddenly, and nearly ran down the staircase. Mark followed her, wondering if this was his sign to leave…or push the envelope. If it were up to him, he’d be pushing the envelope all night. But that might just be their latent chemistry speaking. He’d been a helpless fool when it came to Tessa. Friends for years, and then he’d fallen in love with her in the blink of an eye and never looked back. It only made sense that those feelings might still be lurking inside him. Even if he didn’t want them to.

  She was straightening the living room when he came in. He paused in the arched entryway, leaning against the molding.

  “Netflix and chill?” he offered, trying to break the strange tension between them.

  She wilted, looking over at him. “Mark—”

  “I was kidding,” he said. “I don’t want to intrude. I’m just happy you invited me over for dinner.”

  She nodded, sinking onto the couch. “Yeah. Me too. That was…nice. Like, really nice.”

  “I thought so too.”

  She smoothed her hand across the empty cushion beside her. “Come sit. Let’s talk.”

  He sauntered toward her, the cushion denting under his weight. His muscles had started to ache hardcore. His body begged for sleep, but he didn’t want to cut this short. Tessa curled her feet beneath her and faced him, snuggling against the side of the couch.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  Something unreadable flashed across her face, but it was quickly replaced with playfulness. “What’s it like being in the NFL?”

  He laughed, leaning back against the couch. He rubbed his hands up and down his face. “I can’t even say yet. I’m a rookie, you know? I’ve had two preseason games so far. I’m just trying not to fuck it up.”

  “But you played so well,” she said. “There’s no way you could fuck it up.”

  He grimaced. “That’s nice of you to say, but…you clearly don’t know my coach Scooter.”

  “I’ve certainly heard about him.” She nudged his leg with her toe. “So how are you a rookie when I’m through grad school already? Shouldn’t we have graduated college at the same time?”

  “I had to postpone my freshman year,” he said. “My grandad got sick with cancer. So I volunteered to be his caretaker while he overcame it. Then I re-enrolled, but it took me five years to get through. It’s called redshirting—I didn’t play much my first year, which extended my eligibility—and I could keep my scholarship.”

  Sympathy flashed in her eyes, but it quickly turned to warmth. “I bet your grandpa is so proud of you.”

  “Oh my god. You know it. But what about you? How’s your dad?”

  She sighed heavily, gesturing to the living room littered with plastic toys and discarded footballs. “Same as always. And now with a horrible habit of bringing all sorts of toys every single time he visits. And he visits weekly.”

  “I bet Angus loves it.”