Page 120 of Over the Line

CHAPTER 30

GARRETT

The Phantoms practiced their first morning in Nashville, and then we all returned to the hotel. Their game wasn’t until tomorrow night, so after they had a team meeting, we had the day to explore the city and relax.

Some of the fathers and sons went golfing, including Ben and Liam. Others had arranged visits to the Grand Ole Opry and some other landmarks in town. Chris and I toured the Opry, then joined three of his teammates in an escape room, and the whole day was a blast. Now we were back at the hotel with dinner reservations in a couple of hours, so we were all just chilling and socializing in the lounge on the mezzanine.

There was a small but bougie coffee shop downstairs in the lobby, and between the jet lag and the busy day, I needed the caffeine. So, I bowed out of the conversation with Chris, Temo, Barns, and their dads, and I headed downstairs.

I’d been in line for a minute or two, idly scrolling my phone, when a voice raised pleasant goose bumps on the back of my neck.

“Enjoying the trip so far?”

I turned around, and it took a lot of work to maintain a friendly, platonic smile when I met those amazing eyes. “Hey. How was golf?”

Liam groaned. “You’d think I’d learn never to play my dad, but…” He waved a hand.

“Oh yeah?”

Scowling playfully, he nodded. “He’s way better than I am, and he’s also a relentless shit-talker.”

“So, you’re saying it’s genetic? The shit-talking?”

He laughed, sending a rush of warmth through me that had my toes curling in my sneakers. “I mean, kinda? I did learn a lot of it from him.” He shook his head. “But he makes it really hard to concentrate on, you know, golfing?”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?”

He grumbled something and rolled his eyes.

I just chuckled.

We were out in the open, so we didn’t let the conversation linger. I paid for the drinks I was getting for myself and Chris, then headed back up the mezzanine. I felt weird, walking away from Liam. I wanted him to join us. I wanted to be close to him.

Not here. Not now.

I gave myself a moment to long for a day when we could be out as a couple. Publicly and unabashedly.

But that day wasn’t today, and I was on this trip to focus on my son. So that was what I did.

Tried to, anyway, because the irony of being on the dads’ trip with Chris was that aside from that first day in Nashville, some meals, and the brief hangouts between activities, I barely had a chance to spend time with him. I’d expected that, of course—he had practice, pregame naps, and games, not to mention media availability and his pregame routines. The team staff would take the dads out during the players’ pregame naps, and we had some amazing food at some incredible restaurants.

I lived for the time I actually spent with my son, though.

Fortunately, after we’d flown to Houston for the last game of the trip, we had some much-needed downtime. We’d had dinner with some of the guys earlier, and while some went out to check out what the city had to offer, Chris and I had decided to take it easy. We’d watched a hockey game on TV, and now we were winding down for the evening.

It was nice. A few low-key hours of one-on-one time with my son—I definitely couldn’t complain.

I missed Liam, of course. The only person I’d spent less time with on this trip was him, and I was getting restless.

But we’d be back in Pittsburgh soon enough. In the meantime, I had this evening to chill with Chris, though I did surreptitiously exchange a few texts with Liam when Chris was focused on the game or on his own phone during a commercial. Nothing salacious or scandalous, just a few short, benign messages. They were enough to scratch the itch his absence had left, and I didn’t feel too guilty about stealing a moment here and there to read and respond.

Now the game was over and Liam had sent a goodnight text. Nothing left to do but call it a night.

I went in to take a shower, and when I came out, Chris was on the phone. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but the way his brow was furrowed as he paced the room with the phone pressed to his ear—that had alarm bells going off.

“Is the doctor worried about it?” he asked. “You and the baby are okay, right? You’re not⁠—”

From where I sat on the edge of my bed, I couldn’t hear what Jasmine was saying, but it must’ve been helping because Chris was slowly relaxing.