Rules for Dating Your Ex Read online

  “Jamie?” Merrick says.

  “Sorry. Yeah, I’m here. No urges I can’t handle or anything.”

  “We talked about this. It’s not an easy fix. She’s not going to run back into your arms. You have to do the work to get the prize.”

  I nod. Everything he’s saying is true, but I hate being on the wrong side of that door. “She’s deaf.”

  “Sedona?”

  “My daughter,” I say, my voice catching. I sit on a park bench, conjuring up her sweet little face in my mind. “She’s adorable. Has my eyes but Sedona’s hair. And she has no fucking clue who I am.” I lean forward, my elbows rest on my knees.

  “What’s her name?”

  I shake my head. “I have no idea.”

  “But you know she’s deaf?” Merrick asks.

  “She signed to me.” The memory of Kingston signing that I was “nobody” when she asked who I was flashes through my mind. That was like the quick flick of a sword across my heart.

  “That’s awesome. You can sign?” He sounds surprised.

  “I’m rusty, but yeah, my uncle was deaf.”

  I grew up watching my cousins and parents sign with my uncle, and I guess you pick it up quickly when you’re a kid. It was only when I got older that I realized we didn’t sign like anyone else I knew. My mother eventually explained that my uncle had learned how to sign when he lived in the United States with an old family friend. Apparently American Sign Language is different from British Sign Language. I never thought I’d be so grateful for something that had left my uncle so isolated in Scotland.

  I wonder what my mom will say when I tell her. But at this point, she doesn’t even know I have a daughter, let alone a deaf daughter. I’m not ready for how disappointed she’ll sound when she finds out my behavior chased off my family just yet.

  “That’s an upside—a barrier you don’t’ have to worry about. You won’t have to learn to communicate with her.”

  Merrick always sees the bright side of everything. I guess it’s his job, as my sponsor, to put a positive spin on things, but it can be annoying as fuck sometimes too.

  “Yeah, I guess. But it hurts, you know. I’m the reason I’m not in my baby girl’s life. I did this.”

  “You put yourself in this position, that’s true. But you have to forgive yourself. I’ve already told you my worries about you going out there. You can’t make Sedona forgive you. It’s her choice whether she wants to or not, but you have to remember that whatever she chooses, doesn’t speak to who you are now.”

  “Gotcha.”

  We’ve been over this. It’s why I waited a year after getting clean to contact her—to make sure it wouldn’t be for naught. The worst thing that could happen is that Sedona forgives me and then I relapse and all that mistrust piles up again. I wouldn’t get a third chance. But waiting a whole year, especially the first six months after rehab and the halfway house, was excruciating.

  Now that I’ve seen them, it’s all so real. The hurt in her eyes, the fear when she saw me looking at our daughter… I’m not sure she’ll ever forgive me.

  “Just go find a hotel and get yourself together for coffee tomorrow. Hopefully the two of you can find some common ground. Remember that Sedona has the right to feel however she wants, but if you want a relationship with your daughter, you can have that without Sedona. You have rights as a father.”

  “A father who’s been absent her entire life,” I grumble.

  “A father who was getting clean to be the best damn father he could be. A court will see that. You have rights and don’t forget that.”

  “You talk from experience?”

  His laugh is hollow. “I do.”

  He doesn’t give me anything else, so I don’t press him. “Okay, I’m going to find a hotel. Thanks for talking to me.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you whenever, day or night. I can’t stress enough that there’s no quick fix to this. You have to do the work, just like you did to get clean.”

  “I know. I know. Thanks.”

  We hang up and I hold the phone for a moment before ordering an Uber to Glacier Point Resort.

  Fifteen minutes later, the Uber picks me up and we drive past Terra and Mare, the windows revealing everyone having a great time inside. I close my eyes briefly. My family is in there.

  “I’m going to win you over,” I whisper.

  “What’s that?” the Uber driver asks.

  I shake my head in the rearview mirror. “Nothing.”

  We ride in silence to the resort while I pray that I’m not blacklisted from everywhere in this town.

  The next morning, I’m walking through the lobby of the resort when a big body makes its way over to me from the reception office. I stop, figuring he’d catch up with me at some point, but I’m surprised by his tentative smile.

  “Jamison,” Wyatt says.

  “Mornin’, Wyatt.”

  He crosses his arms and widens his stance. “You know I can’t let you stay here, right? My wife will kick my ass.”

  “I’m a paying customer.”

  His lips don’t tilt up. He merely nods. “You won’t be after today. I can’t have you here.”

  “Listen, I’m having breakfast with Sedona.” I glance at my watch and Wyatt’s eyes fall to my Patek Philippe watch with raised eyebrows. “I can’t be late, so I’ll have to check out as soon as I get back. It’ll be a bit late, but I had planned on staying another few nights. That work for you?”

  “Fine. But you really should’ve brought a bodyguard back with you.”

  He turns on his heel and stops to speak to the receptionist. After a moment, both their gazes fall to me. Great, I guess I really am finding somewhere else to put me up.

  I hop in my Uber, driven by Duke Thompson. Perfect. He’ll probably drop me off in some remote part of Alaska and I’ll be eaten by a Kodiak bear, much to the Bailey family’s satisfaction.

  He recognizes me, turning around and shaking my hand. “Jamison, I heard something about you being in town.”

  I want to say no shit, Buzz Wheel outed me last night. I read the article, which didn’t portray me in a very flattering light. The first time I have an article centered around me in that gossip rag and I’m a deadbeat father. “I need to go to Sunrise Bay. Two Brothers and an Egg restaurant?”

  He nods, puts the car in drive, and we pull away from the resort.

  After I give him enough one-word answers, Duke finally stops asking me questions. The closer we get to Sunrise Bay, the more my stomach tightens. This moment reminds me of the same feeling I used to get when I was taking a penalty shot on the pitch. It all comes down to this. This is my only shot to try to get her to listen to me.

  Things with Sedona were always easy. Maybe not entirely or we wouldn’t be in the situation we are. But we fell in love fast at seventeen when everyone thought it was infatuation more than love. Even when I was playing in Europe and she was at school in New York, she’d message me to say, “great goal” or “congratulations on the win.” When she got on the college newspaper, I subscribed and read every word she ever wrote. I missed her beyond all reason. That’s why when I got offered a spot in the MLS—to play for New York, no less—I was on her doorstep right after the plane landed. It’s always been Sedona for me.

  “We’re here,” Duke interrupts my thoughts.

  I blink, shifting my gaze to him, surprised we’re here already. Sedona’s at a booth inside along the window. She’s smiling at the waiter in front of her table with a pad of paper. She signals to the empty side of the booth and he nods, moving on to the next table.

  “Wish me luck, Duke.” I climb out of his car, mustering all the confidence I can to meet this head-on. Own up to my mistakes and beg for forgiveness.

  The bell on the door rings when I walk through, and her gaze shoots up to meet mine. Her smile from a second ago turns to a scowl. Her hair is up in a ponytail, exposing one of my favorite body parts of her body. Did she do that on purpose
to torment me? But I shake it off. Sedona doesn’t play like that.

  She turns her attention out the window and the scorned feeling inside me knows I don’t deserve her full attention. I’m not worthy of those brown eyes scanning my body the way they used to—like she couldn’t get enough of me. She never gave me hell about my workout regimen and would praise my abs, biceps, and how strong my thighs were. I’m still fit, but I don’t work out like a professional athlete anymore.

  I slide into the booth and she rests her hands on her swollen tummy, forcing her gaze back my way.

  “Good mornin’,” I say.

  “Morning.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t.”

  “What? I can’t be honest?”

  An annoyed breath falls from her lips. “Let’s just get this over with. What do you want?”

  “Want?” My forehead creases.

  “I have all the money you’ve sent.” She pulls out a check from her purse and slides it over to me.

  A big burly guy comes over. A different one than Sedona was talking to before. “What will it be for you two?”

  “Just hot water and honey, thanks. I have my own tea bag.”

  “And you?” he asks me.

  I eye his name tag. Tad. Interesting. “Coffee and an egg white omelet with peppers and mushrooms.” I put the menu I never looked at back behind the salt and pepper shakers.

  He taps the tip of his pen on the notepad and smiles. “Be up soon.”

  Once he walks away, I stare at the check and calculate the math. Sure enough, it tallies to almost the same amount I’ve paid her since our daughter was born. I push the check back toward her. “I don’t want the money back. That’s for you and her.”

  “I didn’t spend a dime of it. I put it in an account for Pa—her.” She almost told me our precious little girl’s name.

  “What’s her name?”

  She tilts her head and tortures me for another second, looking conflicted. “Palmer.”

  I nod.

  She scowls. “What? You don’t like it?”

  I raise my hands. “I like it.”

  “Well, I couldn’t very well wait until her father decided to show up so he could have a say.”

  Our eyes lock, and all that animosity alive and growing inside her reflects back at me. I realize how right Merrick was—I should be praying for a damn miracle, because Sedona will never take me back.

  Three

  Sedona

  The owner brings us our drinks and I use the interruption to study Jamison further. The only logical explanation for me finding Jamison so damn attractive is that I’m pregnant and overflowing with hormones. It’s certainly not normal to want to nail someone on a diner table during the breakfast rush when you hate said person. And hate is a polite way of labeling my feelings for Jamison.

  He’s not as cut as he was when we were together, but he’s still fit. The athletic body he loved to show off could be hiding under his jeans and long-sleeve Henley, but you didn’t need X-ray vision back in the day to know he had a body of steel.

  “I love her name. And I’d never expect you to wait.”

  I nod, sipping my tea. I told myself I would be an adult about this.

  “Are you playing?” I ask to steer the conversation away from Palmer.

  He shakes his head with a disappointed glint in his eye. “I guess you don’t follow me anymore.” He stares at his coffee, then glances up.

  I ignore the pull to tell him I know everything the tabloids have said about him. Everything from his rock bottom to rehab to a halfway house. I chased down every rumor that he was dating someone. Hell, I’ve probably kept better track of him than the FBI could.

  “My career is over.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, and he nods.

  I remember when I heard the news that he wouldn’t be coming back from his injury. I thought maybe things could’ve changed, but I guess not. His dream shattered only a few years after he started really playing. It’s so unfair. He shrugs it off, but I watched him chase his dream, saw what he put into making it happen, how hard he worked. Enough to know that inside, it must be killing him, festering and eating him alive.

  “What’s your plan now?” I ask.

  He brings his coffee to his lips. “Not sure. Coaching maybe? But I’m really only concerned about getting you to forgive me right now.”

  Those blue eyes of his lock with mine, and I tear my gaze away before I accept his apology too quickly. It’s not like he’s apologizing for stepping on my toe or forgetting to call. Grab that backbone, Sedona. Phoenix would never let him get away with this, but then again, I’ve never been like my sister that way.

  “I’m not available.”

  He eyes my stomach once more as a sour look crosses his face. “I figured as much. Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t go there with you ever again, regardless. Now, if you want to talk Palmer, we can work something out. But me and you are off the table.” I waggle my finger back and forth between us.

  He leans across the table. “I want to see her. I want to be a part of her life.”

  I lean back as far as I can in the booth, but my stomach hits the edge of the table. The waiter comes by and slides one plate my way and another in front of Jamison.

  “I brought you a muffin and fruit. On the house,” the waiter says to me. “I couldn’t bear having a pregnant mama in here not eating. No offense.”

  “Thank you, but we’ll happily pay for it,” I say before I realize I said we. He smiles and walks away, but I stop him before he gets too far. “I mean I. I will pay for it.”

  The waiter glances back at Jamison, then back at me, placing his hand over mine. “On the house. No arguing with the owner.” He points.

  Sure enough, there’s a sign nailed to the wall that says exactly that.

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  By the time I turn around, Jamison is almost half done with his omelet. “You always did have yer admirers,” he says between swallows.

  “That felt like a dig.”

  “Just a fact,” he says, mumbling over his mouth full of food.

  “And I wasn’t the one with the admirers.”

  He holds my gaze for longer than is comfortable. “I never cheated on you.”

  I nod. That’s not what today is supposed to be about, so I deter the conversation from anything to do with our shared past. “I have some stipulations before I let you meet Palmer.”

  He pushes away his now empty plate, sips his coffee, wipes his mouth, and grants me his undivided attention. “Non-negotiable?”

  “Kind of, yes. This isn’t a pet we’re sharing. She’s a little girl with feelings and a heart that I don’t want broken.”

  He nods. “I’m well aware of that.”

  Questions and thoughts rush around my head like a swarm of bees—he didn’t seem to know those things once upon a time.

  “If we do this and you’re serious about getting to know her, then you do it with me present. We take this slow. And I’m warning you, Jamison, if you so much as miss one date we make, I’ll strip her away from you without blinking. You can haul me into court, and I’ll hire the best lawyer. I will not let her get hurt.” A laugh bubbles out of him, and I narrow my eyes. I tear off a piece of my muffin. “What could possibly be funny right now?”

  “You. The protective mama bear. I like it.” His vision dips to my lips and back to my eyes.

  I could throw back an insult or two about his absence, but I think about Palmer and when she called Kingston daddy. Her scrunched up little nose when I said he’s her uncle, not her daddy. Every one of her cousins has a mom and dad, so of course she assumes she has a daddy too.

  I study the man across the table. The sweet boy who never would’ve abandoned his daughter has to be in there somewhere. Maybe he’s here now. Maybe rehab changed him, and he’ll be the dad I always thought
he’d be.

  “What’s your schedule like this week?” I ask, trying my hardest to keep the conversation on track.

  “I’m wide open. Well, actually I’ll be trying to find somewhere to stay this afternoon and I’m going to rent a car, but—”

  “Why? Where did you stay last night?” I mentally reprimanded myself for asking. Asking means I care, and I don’t care.

  “I was at Glacier Point, but yer brother-in-law is kicking me out.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my smile from forming, but I must suck at it because Jamison shakes his head and smirks.

  “Go ahead and be happy. I’m pretty sure I should look here in Sunrise Bay for the time being because no one in Lake Starlight wants to see me.”

  My heart pinches, damn it. “Maybe that’d be best.”

  I ignore the sour feeling in my stomach. Pushing my plate to the side, having only eaten a bite of the muffin and nothing else, I shift in my seat to get more comfortable. Pretty much an impossibility.

  Jamison eyes the plate and slides it back my way. “You need to eat.”

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the advice, doctor, but I’m fine.” I take my phone out of my purse. “Same number?”

  He shakes his head and pulls out his phone. “You?”

  “Yeah,” I say, not allowing myself to focus on the fact that he had my number for more than eighteen months and never used it.

  My phone vibrates in my hand. It’s a text message of a smiley face from an unknown number. The notification blocks Palmer’s face in the picture I snapped last week when she decided to pull out every pot and pan I own.

  “That’s me,” Jamison says.

  I put my phone back in my purse. “I’ll message you a meeting time. We’ll keep it public, so maybe the park or something.” Sliding out of the booth, I’m aware of Jamison staring at me. “Goodbye, Jamison.” I stand at the edge of the booth. “Please just make sure this is what you want before you meet us. There’s no going back once we start this process.”

  He nods.

  I walk away, fully aware I’m not nearly as prepared for this new version of our relationship as I need to be.