When I Need You (Need You #4)

“Good. The couch is comfier than these chairs.”

I carried my glass and the wine bottle into the living room. Jensen pulled the back section apart so I didn’t have to climb over. “What is with you and this enormous couch? One might think you were overcompensating.” You did not just say that.

Jensen granted me a sexy smile as he vaulted over the edge one handed. “Bigger is always better, baby.”

I wouldn’t know about that.

“The last place I lived, the interior designer chose a dinky-ass couch and two spindly chairs for a living room four times the size of this entire apartment. Some ‘modern concept’ that I stupidly agreed to because what do I know about interior design?”

When he blushed and ducked his head after admitting his ineptitude . . . heaven help me. It was so sweet and charming and humble.

“The furniture was too small for a guy my size. I spent all my time in my bedroom because at least I could stretch out on my big bed and watch TV. I swore the next place I lived I’d pick out furniture I wanted. Comfortable stuff so I wouldn’t give a damn if beer or pizza got spilled on it. Who wants to live in a fucking museum? Not me. Not ever again.”

“I figured with your salary you could live anywhere you wanted, so that’s why I thought this wouldn’t be your main residence.”

“I hadn’t realized how much I hated where I was living until after my injury and it felt like the same sterile environment as a hospital. Then I started hanging out here with Axl and got to know Martin. I discovered I was much happier and more myself in this place, so I moved in when Axl shacked up with Annika.” He sighed. “Still haven’t gotten the dog I wanted.”

“What kind of dog?”

“Probably a mutt from the pound. A big mutt.”

Sipping my wine, I wondered if I could ask him what I wanted to know, if he’d meant his insistence of honesty between us.

“Don’t go quiet on me now, Coach. If you ask a question I don’t want to answer, I won’t.”

“You were born rich and grew up in a mansion. A lavish lifestyle has to be the norm for you. Is this an experiment in how the common people live?”

He laughed—it wasn’t a nice sound. “Wow. Okay. When I introduce you to my parents you’ll kick your own ass for the assumptions.”

That startled me. Why would he want me to meet his parents?

“My family is grateful I’m not in an assisted-living facility because I was permanently paralyzed.”

“I wasn’t trying to be a dick, Jensen.”

“I know. But that question is also why I don’t invite many of my teammates to hang out here. They’d all be like . . . ‘Man, why you slumming? Why’d you give up that sweet crib with the million-dollar river view for this dump?’ I also get asked why I even take a salary. I could just play football for free. It’s not like I need the money.”

My jaw dropped. “People say that shit to you?”

“All the time.”

“And then I had to go and ask an equally boneheaded question.” I groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“Par for the course. There is one way you can make it up to me—and no, dirty-minded girl, it doesn’t entail sexual favors—although I’d be a fool to say no if you offered me a couple.”

I rolled my eyes at his hopeful look. “Don’t go dragging me into your impure thoughts. So how can I make it up to you?”

“By answering an equally invasive question.”

I refilled my wineglass in preparation and Jensen laughed. I found myself smiling back. This was so much easier with him than I imagined. “Hit me with the question.”

His face took on an appealing earnestness when he asked, “What’s the deal with Calder’s dad?”

“Short version? He knocked me up senior year and acted like I’d gotten pregnant on purpose to trap him.”

“Trap him how?”

Here was the moment of truth. “He was a football player. Big Ten All-Conference trophy winner as defensive player of the year. Defensive tackle predicted to go high in the NFL draft. We’d been dating since sophomore year and he broke up with me at the start of our last semester of college. A month later I found out I was pregnant.”

“What did he do?”

“Said the baby wasn’t his. Accused me of wanting a free ride and warned I’d need a court-ordered paternity test to ever get a nickel out of him.”

“Jesus.”

I closed my eyes and forced out the words that still left a bitter taste in my mouth. “I was on the pill, I never missed a dose. But the free clinic I’d gotten the pills from had received a bad batch that had been recalled by the drug manufacturer. Only the clinic hadn’t gotten the memo about the recall. Big blowup in the national media because it happened at ten other clinics across the country. Anyway, I ended up with free prenatal medical care, free postnatal medical care, and pretty much free medical care for Calder and me at the clinic for as long as we live here.”

“While that’s the least they could’ve done for you, get back to the part of the story where the baby daddy justified abandoning you and his child.”

The wine loosened my tongue. Normally I wasn’t an oversharer, but here I was, spilling my guts to a guy who’d played on the same team as my ex.

“Rowan.”

I met his gaze.

“I promise anything you tell me doesn’t go beyond us.”

“I appreciate that. It’s just you . . .”

His eyes narrowed. “I know him, don’t I? Or at least I know who he is.”

I nodded.

“Does Calder know him?”

“No.” I ran my finger over the rim of the wineglass. “Martin has always been a big part of Calder’s life. So has my dad. Calder has healthy, loving, dependable relationships with them, so he’s not missing male role models.” I glanced up when Jensen remained quiet a beat too long. “What?”

His gaze searched my face. “I’m trying to come up with the least obnoxious way to phrase this question.”

“Just ask it.”

“Does the asswipe baby daddy pay child support?”

I shook my head.

“You know that’s total bullshit. Even if he isn’t involved in Calder’s life, his damn checkbook should be. You shouldn’t have to shoulder the entire financial burden of raising a child, Rowan. Not to mention everything else you have to do without help.”

Why did I like that he’d gotten so fired up on my behalf?

Because there is a pull toward this man you can’t deny.

When Jensen opened his mouth, I held up my hand. “Let me explain the timeline. I was five months pregnant during the NFL draft in April. We graduated in May and he moved to the city that’d drafted him. Calder was born in August during training camp. We had a standing order for a paternity test. When the results confirmed he’d fathered my baby, his lawyer offered me a onetime lump sum . . . with a stipulation.”

Jensen snorted.

“Accepting the money cleared him of all future parental responsibilities, with the exception if Calder was diagnosed with some heinous disease. Then he’d pay for half of the medical treatments.”

“How generous.”

“It is what it is. My stipulation was that he has zero contact with Calder.”