“Around five months,” she says, shooting that thought straight into the garbage. I may not avail myself of womanly crap too often, but I know enough about the reproductive process to know that we’re way beyond the point of fixing anything. We’ve crossed the point of no return.

“Are you freaking out?” Vista asks, looking at me with this mix of knowing and concern. “Because you look like you’re freaking out.”

“I’m fine.” I bristle at the question. Not because she means anything offensive by it, but because I realize that she expects me to throw a fit or walk away or, hell, maybe both.

I can’t say that I really blame her. As far as she’s concerned, my modus operandi has always been to cut and run when the going gets tough. To a degree, I suppose it’s true. I don’t form relationships with people beyond a night between the sheets because of this very thing. I don’t want attachments or commitment, and I definitely don’t need people depending on me for anything. I just want to live my life free of worry and obligations. I want my life to be mine, dammit! Is that so much to ask?

I feel like screaming and shouting and throwing things. This isn’t how I want my life to go. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Then why are you here? The voice in my head stops me cold.

I’m being a total dick, aren’t I?

After Vista walked out of my life for a second time, I was hurt. I didn’t know how to tell her everything that was going on inside my head, and I was certain she wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. She was upset with me, and rightfully so. I’ve spent the last four years regretting how I handled that night. The day after was even worse. Definitely not one of my better moments. I should have taken the time to explain to her what had happened between my father and me instead of using that random girl as a place card. I never should have left her to form her own conclusions. That look on her face when she saw us together still kills me to this day.

I never should have let my father tell me how to live my life.

That’s the part that pisses me off the most. It’s not that she did anything wrong. It was all me. I let my father use his weight and influence to shape my thinking, to inform my decisions. I was still too young and immature to have the balls to stand up to him and tell him what I wanted. I didn’t have it in me then to go after her. Instead, I forced her to walk away by hurting her.

Vista coming back into my life changed everything. It changed me. I found the courage to stand up to my father and take charge of my life. When our parents caught us in that pool and my father revealed the motive behind me leaving her back when we were teenagers, I was momentarily thrust back into my eighteen-year-old self, powerless to fight back. By the time I realized that I was letting old habits die hard, the damage had already been done.

Vista no longer trusted me. She looked at me like I was a stranger. All I saw was the hurt and anger inside of her, reminding me of that damn wedding all over again, and I buckled. How could I tell the woman I was falling in love with that I needed her to stay when all she wanted was to get away from me?

In the end, I had to let her go. I know my father better than anyone, and I knew that he was going to punish me for going against him. If Vista stuck around, she’d become part of that war. And I was right. After she left, my father went on a rampage. He told me exactly what he expected of me. He dictated my every move, where I went, who I spent time with. Everything. He had me heading back onto the field less than a week later like he promised.

I’ve been on it ever since.

I went along with whatever he wanted, too broken inside to function on my own. I was on autopilot, his puppet with strings. Until Lara, my stepmother, shook me from my self-imposed daze.

It was over dinner. Lara invited me over, and she was so hopeful, I couldn’t say no. The entire meal was tense, but not for a lack of conversation. David was all too eager to tell us about his deal with Vista and how she had cut ties with him. He mocked her ability to make it without his money and connections. Just the way he spoke about her, with that same condescending tone that he uses on me, pinched a nerve.

I knew Vista. She was one of the smartest people I’d ever met, and if anyone could be a success, it was her. Hell, she showed more courage throwing his money to the curb and venturing off on her own than I have my whole life. I couldn’t be more fucking proud of her. He thought she couldn’t make it? I decided right then and there to prove his smug ass wrong.

That night, while on a plane to Florida for my next game, I started pulling together a plan. I knew I couldn’t keep doing this. I needed to cut the bullshit, stop following my father’s edict, and extract myself from this life, to put distance between me and the man behind the wheel.

I’ve walked onto every field since then with my head held high and the knowledge that I was on my way toward an independent future—one free of David Black—driving me.

We haven’t lost a single game yet. Despite the rocky start, they’re calling it my best season and I have more endorsement offers and press coverage than I know what to do with, but I’m finding that I love it. Every damn minute of it. At one time I told Vista that I wasn’t sure I wanted to play anymore. I’d lost my passion for the game, but now I know that it wasn’t the game that was the problem. It was my father and his need to control every aspect of it. He’d set the bar so high that no man could reach it, and it’d sucked the fun right out of it.

Now, knowing that I’m working toward my freedom, I feel empowered. Now, I’m playing for me. I’m playing for the woman I love. And I’m playing for the little person who will one day look up to me.

With my plan in place, and with my buddy Vincent’s help, I figured out where Vista was. Not that she was hiding or anything. Since she’d never taken to using my father’s name and refused his money and business contacts, I knew she’d need help and David Black isn’t the only one who has connections. Then, by some stroke of luck, I heard that she was looking for someone to partner up with, giving me the in I needed. I saw my opportunity and, like any good businessman, capitalized on it.

Through a friend, I ponied up the money and ensured that she had the help of a private investor, providing her with a silent partner—me, in a roundabout way. I’ve always found her drive and determination impressive, but this venture has made her shine. She’s pushed through any and every obstacle that’s stood in her way. Sure, I may have greased the wheels a bit, but all the hard work was hers. I don’t know a lot about business, but I’ve never heard of a person accomplishing what she has in as little time as she’s done it in. That said, she’d have my balls if she knew I was behind it.

So why am I here? Arriving to that answer hasn’t been easy. I wasn’t lying when I told her that I was in the area, but Ohio is a big place, and the hotel I’m supposed to be staying at with the rest of my team is miles away. That didn’t keep me from hopping on my bike and driving through the better half of the day to see her though.

I questioned myself a dozen times on the way. But now that I’m standing here, with the question staring me in the face, I know I can’t outrun the truth any longer. I’m here because...

I love her.

I knew it the second she walked out the door. Three little words. They’re so simple, yet so unbelievably terrifying. I always told myself I’d never say those words. That I’d never let a woman get that close. But here I am, looking at the one woman who was always going to be the one. I knew it four years ago, and I know it now. The reason I held that part of myself away from the world was because it already belonged to her.