The fruit of my loins was wrapped in delicate cloth and was snug in my hands. The shit was crazy. I was looking at my legacy, my future. I finally had a familial connection to be excited about. Life to give guidance to. A human being to provide for. Someone that would give me a permanent connection to the woman across the room. I had a family.
“Mr. Rogers,” I heard from above me. I glanced up and found one of the nurses—the one I thought resembled Miss Piggy, but was warm and accommodating just as the rest of them—glancing down on me with a pleasing smile. “I have to take Jordan for his vitals, shots and another weigh-in. I’ll be right back with him. Perhaps you can order breakfast while he’s away.”
Shit. Food. I’d forgotten to eat...to wash my ass! My poor baby, having to smell work on his old man.
I nodded and handed my little man over with great disinclination. He was my partner, even in that moment.
When the door closed behind them, I decided to take a shower. Zoey was in a private room, something I made sure to arrange. I wanted privacy for her and Jordan, didn’t want to expose them to the media any sooner than I had to. My team worked seamlessly getting me in the place.
When I arrived, Zoey’s parents and sister were there. I felt relieved to know she wasn’t alone. Occasionally, I’d forget Zoey came from a tight family. She wasn’t like me, a loner, which is probably what really drew me to her.
When I was done showering, I threw on fresh sweats and shower shoes Paul had arranged to have delivered here while we were en route from Canada. As I sauntered out of the bathroom, I texted Paul, asking him to come and pick up my dirty laundry when he woke up. I knew he had to be somewhere sleeping.
“They miss you already?”
I glanced up and found Zoey smirking. She wore an expression of fatigue, but even exhaustion looked so damn cute on her. My heart swelled in pride at the sight of her. She was a trooper during delivery. I don’t know why I expected less; this was Zoey after all.
I tossed a smile at her. “Telling Paul to come get my dirty clothes and bring clean ones for the duration of my stay.”
Zoey’s brows wrinkled and chin dipped. “You’re staying? Here?”
I fought not to take that as a hint of being unwelcomed as I lowered myself in the cushioned chair next to her bed, crossed my stretched legs and plopped them onto her mattress.
“Yup. You couldn’t pay me to leave my...son.”
I’d almost slipped and used the word family. Because that’s what it felt like. Zoey and I hadn’t fucked in two months, since her birthday. We were in touch minimally by her design, but I still felt this incredible tie to her. I’d hoped my willingness to meet her need for space would pay off.
“Can you believe we have this tiny creature?” I glanced over and saw raw exhilaration etched into her face. Her smile was broad and suddenly she didn’t appear as drained as she was just moments ago. She looked like my youthful Ni?a. “Isn’t he perfect? He looks like you, you know? I see my mom’s lips, but everything else is StentRo.”
I curbed the initial glare I gave her at the mention of my on-the-court moniker. Zoey was in her element, being the fiery woman that captivated me almost two years ago. She recognized her mother’s lips on Jordan, I saw hers. I guessed it was the same difference.
“He definitely has identifiable features,” I agreed.
Zoey tossed her head back on the pillows with a big ass smile plastered on her face.
My nose wrinkled. “You’re sure a different being from just minutes ago when I walked out of the bathroom.”
Zoey giggled. “That’s because I’m a medicated momma. See here?” She lifted a device that was attached to tubes. “This is a medication dial. When I feel pain, I turn it up. I turned it up while you were in the shower. My lower back was killing me, competing with my no-no-special place.” She giggled.
Why the hell did she have to mention that place? Thanks to her, I’d be preoccupied with thoughts of it.
“Your giddiness is reminding me of,” I twisted my neck over to the other side of the room to be sure her parents hadn’t arrived unannounced. “...your experience in the Caymans.”