Beautiful Storm (San Francisco End Game #1)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Luke

A melia sends me a thank you text and I drop the phone like it’s burning my fingers. If I don’t keep things light and humorous, I’m going to fall apart at any second.

When I think back to our conversation yesterday, it mirrors an out-of-body experience. Who was that guy? I mean, sure, he was sensible and confident, and knew exactly what he wanted. But now, it’s a new day and I don’t know where the hell he went.

“Leave the arrangements to me?” What was I thinking? I don’t know the first thing about organizing a wedding. My sister is halfway through planning one right now, and she’s talked my ear off about it, yet I couldn’t tell you a single thing she’s arranged.

Where do I start? Apart from the divorce. That I can help with. You need me to end a marriage? Easy. I’m sure I can pay someone to do that. But entering into one? I’m at a loss.

Unless…I wonder if you can do it online these days?

Before the thought has fully formed, I type “ fastest way to get married in California” and hit search… Bingo! Too easy. We just need Amelia’s divorce to be finalized and we can be married in twenty-four to seventy-two hours. Gotta love technology.

I laugh to myself until reality sets in. I meant what I said—I will protect them both, no matter what it takes. But I have no idea what that’s going to entail, and I’ve got to admit, I’m terrified.

Since I’m up early and don’t have to be at the stadium for a couple of hours, I sneak in a workout to clear my head. But it doesn’t help.

I try watching TV and listening to music, but that doesn’t help either. I’m just about to call Lainey to confess everything when I remember Amelia’s car issues. When we arrived at the stadium yesterday, her car was in the parking lot, so it must have broken down there. I can’t have her catching the bus all the time with the ridiculous hours she works. It’s my duty to help out.

Even though I know she’ll be pissed off about it.

It takes me all of ten minutes to arrange for a mechanic, and when it’s done, I’m still no more settled. Though I will admit I do feel better knowing that Amelia will have her car fixed within the next couple of days. And I’m fully prepared for her wrath.

After cleaning the house, something I never do to distract myself, I leave early for practice and drive around for a while.

Luckily, when it comes to the game, I have a process, so once I’m in the parking lot, all it takes is a little pep talk in the form of telling myself it’s go time and all of a sudden, I’m in the zone. Like magic.

Okay, not like magic at all… My pep talk included a lot more expletives and a slap in the face. But I got there in the end.

Pre-season is almost over. The final roster is set. It’s our year.

Last year we were close. This year, we’re a better team. There’s no doubt in my mind that we are making it to the Super Bowl, and I am a huge part of that. Most tight ends peak before thirty years of age. But I’m not most tight ends. I’ve been playing the long game, improving every year and I’ve never been better. I know it. The coaches know it. Even the executives give me knowing smiles as they pass by. Nothing is going to stop me from having the year of my career.

Not a wife and baby… Or a TV show. If anything, they could be motivators. I’m yet to decide. But I’m about to find out.

I’m smiling when I arrive at the stadium, and that smile widens when I see Amelia’s car.

I expect an onslaught of yelling when Amelia sees me since I gave the mechanic her number, but as I step inside there’s a weird tension in the air, and it’s got nothing to do with me. I only have to step foot through the entry to understand why.

From the moment the door clicks shut, a camera follows me as I walk down the hall—but that alone doesn’t mean anything. We’re used to people shoving cameras and microphones into our faces. It’s the “ Cut! Can we try that again ?” that’s throwing everyone off.

Everyone except Rookie, it seems.

Zane smiles as he nods, before turning around and rushing back to greet me near the door. “They want more swagger,” he confirms when I raise an eyebrow. “Apparently my usual star power is lacking. But what can I say… I’m tired after celebrating my inclusion in the final roster. Not that I expected otherwise.” And they say I’m the cocky one.

“If it’s swagger they want, we all know you got this.” I smile and of course he bounces his eyebrows. He can be an asshole sometimes, but I have no reason to piss him off. Easton, on the other hand, is already growly. But when is he not?

Keeley, Amelia, and the producers all warned us that it would be like this, but now that it’s happening, it’s bizarre. Yes, I joked about being the star of this show, but I’m a football player, not an actor. I don’t think ahead when it comes to my moves. I memorized our playbook within a week of first seeing it, and now it all comes naturally to me. Funnily enough, even my own swagger comes naturally. I can’t imagine trying to fake anything. Although, I suppose I need to get used to playing pretend.

I’m about to do six months of it.

For the sake of my baby. For our baby. For… God, the baby needs a name. Uhh… Jelly Bean . I’m going to call the baby Jelly Bean. That’s much better than constantly referring to “it” in my mind.

Shaking off my thoughts, I smile to myself as I walk into the locker room, and when no one yells cut, a feeling a pride takes over me. Maybe acting comes naturally to me too .

The room is full of people I don’t recognize, and the one person I expected to be here is strangely missing. I ignore my concern to get ready, and it’s not until I’m half naked—my shorts around my ankles as I step out of them—that Amelia finally walks in like she owns the place, her presence drawing my attention as I pause to watch her.

She’s laughing at something her assistant is saying, her face lit up in clear amusement, and as much as it pains me, I have to admit, it makes me smile. She’s happy. It suits her.

If she’d been this happy during high school, my mind would have immediately conjured up ways to bring her down. I’m not proud of it, but she brought out that guy in me. Now, it’s strangely different. And I don’t know how I feel about that.

I continue to watch her as she flits around the room, smiling as she chats with my teammates, not even blushing when she finds them in a state of undress. But when she gets to me she pauses, unsure how to act, so I help her out a little. “I’m ready for my close-up, oh wise director. Where do you want me?”

The way I see it, I need to compartmentalize. I need to put Amelia in two different baskets. Amelia the mother of my child and future wife … and Amelia the director. This Amelia. The Amelia I’ve known since I was a kid. The Amelia that used to gloat when she got an award I thought I deserved. The Amelia that threw me under a bus with the fire. This is the Amelia I despise.

The other Amelia, the mother of my child, is different. She has to be. Otherwise it’s going to get weird.

Director Amelia laughs as her eye line drops to my exposed briefs. “I hope you’re talking about your face?” she sasses, and with her straight face, I have to wonder if she’s taking the same approach I am, separating me into two Lukes. The cocky football player and the baby daddy. That, or she’s really good at putting on a front. Either way, I’ll take it.

“My face is best, because where you’re gawking might be too much for the average viewer.”

“You’re right.” She leans in close so no one else can hear. “That’s best reserved for a different kind of show.”

“Oh yeah?” I grin, betting she thinks about my cock on a regular basis.

“Yeah.” She pulls back to meet my gaze. “When plastic surgery goes wrong.”

I huff out a laugh and consider asking her why she kept that joke to herself—the guys would have loved it—but to everyone else, it could be considered a lawsuit waiting to happen and I’m not that mean.

Since we’ve caught the attention of a few of my teammates, I laugh again before turning to face them. “Amelia was just saying that she’d love a few close-ups of me, but didn’t want to leave the rest of you out.”

“Ha,” Amelia fakes a laugh. “I was actually telling him that it’s not that kind of show. I just didn’t want to embarrass him in front of you all.”

Reed snorts from beside us as he throws his clothes into his locker. “It would take a lot to embarrass Luke. We’ve all tried.”

I shake my head as I finally continue dressing, pulling on my pants as Amelia’s eyes stay firmly locked on Reed.

“Good to know, Reed. I’m always interested in new information about the team.” Amelia grins before waving a hand around the room, her gaze briefly scanning my now-naked chest before she turns. “I better get moving. We’ll be filming as soon as you’re all ready.”

She takes a few steps away before turning to face me, a wide sassy grin in place.“ Actually, you know what?” All eyes around me flash her way. “A close-up is a great idea.”

I bounce my shoulders as I stand tall, hitting her with my cockiest smirk. “Anything for you,” I say, reminding her that I promised to do as asked if she didn’t mention the fire.

Amelia ignores me, and instead focuses on Reed where he’s sitting in front of his things, his tattooed body on full display. “Reed, can I borrow you?”

I burst out laughing before giving her a nod and graciously accepting all the teasing from my teammates.

Amelia: one, Me: zero. Well played. I could wipe that smile off her face in a heartbeat by telling her about the car, but I’m not going to do that. It’ll happen on its own soon enough.

Amelia holds back her smile until she turns away, but I don’t miss the way it lights up her face, right before she steps out of view.

Reed stands up, eyebrows raised. “Should I follow her? This is my moment.” He flexes his muscles as he bounces on his toes until I give him a friendly shove.

“Sit the fuck down. It’s time to get serious.”

“Says you.”

“Yep. I’m always serious.”

He rolls his eyes as Keeley calls attention to the room, giving us another speech about appropriate behavior on camera before it’s time for practice.

Coach is wound up when we run onto the field, and I hold my breath, silently praying that Amelia doesn’t ask us to try that again because I can’t imagine that will go over well.

It’s been a couple of weeks since the TV show was dumped on us, and while a lot of people aren’t happy about it, they’ve at least made their opinions known. Coach Pierce, on the other hand, has never shared his feelings on the topic. But while he does everything they ask, he’s clearly pissed about it all.

And it makes me think there has to be a reason behind that.

Pushing the conspiracy theories out of my head, I line up for our first play as the cameras turn my way. I throw them a wave, then it’s on. I’m ready to show them exactly why I should be their star.

Throughout practice, my gaze naturally seeks out Amelia, finding her locked in various conversations with her crew members. Once again in her element. And a thought hits me. I may have joked about telling people our secret, but if it comes out, it’s going to hurt her career, and I don’t want that to happen.

I have to keep my distance when she’s here. Yes, she can give as good as she gets, but now is not the time for joking around.

W hen practice is over, and our filming obligations are complete, I avoid Amelia as I make my way outside. The less interaction we have, the better, and I have a list of things to do if I want to keep things moving for us both.

First up, I need to tell Lainey. Not only because she’d kill me if I didn’t but also because she can help.

When I arrive at her house, I knock twice before remembering she’s forever waltzing into my place, so instead, I push open the door and announce my arrival before stepping inside, knowing that Thomas isn’t home.

But because I’m a nicer person than she is, I wait for her reply.

“Coming,” she calls out from down the hall seconds before stepping into view, a bath towel in her hands.

When our eyes lock, she raises her hands in the air. “I swear I didn’t take her,” she sasses about Shadow, waving the white towel as if it’s her sign of surrender.

I huff out a laugh. “If I didn’t have other things on my mind, you know I would have made you feel guilty for that comment.”

“How?” She shakes her head as she folds the towel.

“By pretending she was missing.”

“ Jesus .” She pauses as her eyes flash to mine. “You’re a dick sometimes. But you already know that. What things?”

Huh? “What things?” I repeat, confused.

Lainey pins me with her signature stare but there’s a hint of concern in her expression. “You just said you had things on your mind.”

“Oh, that.” I clench the back of my neck as I walk toward her. “You tell Thomas everything, right?” I ask, knowing the answer but needing to gauge her reaction.

“I do.” She hesitates, her task forgotten as she throws the towel back into the laundry basket. “What—”

“All good, just checking.”

“Oh-kay.” Lainey stares at me with a raised brow while I take a deep breath and attempt away around her little admission.

“I have this friend, and he’s kind of got himself into a situation.”

“Does Thomas know him?”

“He does, which is why we’re going to call him Bob.”

“Okay. And what situation is Bob in?” She leans against the wall pretending to be calm, but there’s an obvious tension in her shoulders.

“He may or may not have gotten someone pregnant.”

“What?” Lainey gasps as she stands tall. “For a second I thought we were playing pretend and that Bob was actually Thomas. But now… Oh. My. God. I’m going to be an aunt?” She squeals the last bit and I cringe.

What? “No, no one’s going to be an aunt because Bob doesn’t have any sisters.”

“But—”

“At least he won’t , if his sister tells her fiancé what I’m about to tell you.”

Lainey stares at me for a second before her lips pull into the smallest grin, which she graciously hides.

“Okay. Spill.” The words flow out of her mouth casually, but I know deep down she’s dying to say more. And while I’m thankful she’s holding back, I’m also not, because how do I begin? It would probably be easier if she was hitting me with rapid-fire questions.

But here goes. “Amelia’s pregnant, and she doesn’t have great insurance, so I… Bob thought it was a good idea to get married and now I… he has to organize a wedding. A quickie wedding away from prying eyes, but a legal wedding all the same.”

“I’m sorry, what? Did I just black out?”

“This is a serious situation, Lainey. I—”

“You mean, Bob.”

“Fuck, Lainey. I need your help but I’d rather not tell Thomas just yet. What can I do to ensure that?”

Lainey pauses, and I swear I can hear her mind ticking over until she smiles. “Anything?”

“Yes, anything.”

“Okay. Hmm. I’m still stuck on the fact that my forever-a-bachelor brother is getting married and having a baby. I’m going to need some thinking time.”

“Take whatever you need as long as you keep your mouth shut.”

The smile drops from Lainey’s face and she sighs. “I can do that for now. But not forever. How long do you plan on keeping this a secret?”

“As long as we can get away with it.”

If I consider Lainey’s reaction, I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them, but I still don’t want to hurt Amelia’s career. I’ve never hidden the fact that I have no intentions of getting married. But fake or not, it’s happening. And she doesn’t need that kind of attention right now.

Lainey sighs again. “Okay, but I need details. And don’t worry about a payment. I won’t say anything for now. But you should tell Thomas.”

“I will. Soon. For now it’s just you. Deal?”

“Deal. So…”

“Where the fuck do I start?”

“The beginning?” She lifts her shoulders in a half shrug.

“Definitely not.” I laugh to myself. “That’s a long story. Right now we just need to get to the juicy bits.”

Lainey grabs my hand and drags me into the living room before pushing me onto the couch. “Luke, you are confusing the hell out of me. But I’m all ears.”