“Are you sure you’re okay?” I toss my keys into the dish and place my hands on Bailey’s shoulders. She was quiet the whole ride home.

“I’m fine.”

What is it about that word that’s so completely unconvincing? “That’s been your response to everything I’ve asked you since we left. The game was fine, you had a fine time at the bar, you’re fine, meeting people was fine. I might not be a woman or a genius at reading them, but I am quite familiar with the concept of fine meaning anything but.”

Her eyes blaze. “That’s the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

I drop my hands. She’s in the mood to fight. Well, fine. I think I’d rather her fight and scream at me than clam up like she has. “Okay. Then I’m a sexist asshole, but it’s true. You’re not fine.”

“No. I’m not. But who cares? I made an appearance at the bar and acted like your wife. Mission accomplished. Who cares that I’m a joke? Except you. Maybe you care. Hell, I’m kind of embarrassed on your behalf.”

What the fuck is going on here? Weren’t we good yesterday, and now we’re back to this? I take a breath and pray for patience. “What exactly are you embarrassed about?”

“They don’t understand why you’d marry a stripper. Isn’t that kind of trashy?” She leans forward and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Rumor has it, the first night we slept together, you paid for it.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and my blood turns cold. “Who said that?”

“They all said that. The girls. The players’ wives and girlfriends. Hadley told me that they call my business stripper pics, and they think I’m good at it because after years of being a stripper, I know what turns men on.”

Oh, shit. I don’t know Hadley very well, and I’ve never liked her much. This certainly doesn’t help her case. I have a lot of trouble believing that all of the guys’ wives and girlfriends would think of Bailey that way. The thing with football is that even though we make good money once we’re here, most of these guys didn’t come from wealthy families. Many players were first-generation college students, guys whose parents never would have been able to afford to put them in peewee ball if they hadn’t been able to play on scholarship.

I know Bailey is insecure about her past and her social status when it comes to being around people she deems higher class than her, but her childhood isn’t that far removed from the one a lot of these guys experienced. And their wives come from all different walks of life, too, so if they’re calling her business stripper pics, it’s most likely because they’re uncomfortable with the idea of posing for sexy photos, not because they’re mocking her past.

“I’ll talk to James about Hadley.”

“You’re telling her husband on her?”

“Yeah, I am. I won’t have anyone talking about my wife that way. I knew she was immature and catty, but that’s over the line.”

“You can’t talk to every one of your teammates about me. One, that’s absurd, and two, that’s even more embarrassing than having them talk shit behind my back.”

“I don’t need to talk to all of them,” I say, treading carefully. “Hadley’s just one person, and I think she’s made it clear that she’s not a very good one.”

“She talked about it like there’s this whole rumor mill that gossips about me that way.” She shoves her hands in her hair and stares up at the ceiling as she tugs on it.

I have a sister. I know girls can be mean and two-faced, but I feel helpless. I don’t want anything scaring Bailey away, but on an even more basic level, I can’t stand seeing her this hurt.

“And you know what I hate the most? I hate that I fucking care. Before I came here, if you’d told me that a bunch of your NFL player friends’ wives called my business stripper pics, if you’d told me that they all believed I was a whore, I wouldn’t have cared. But now I do. Now it feels like this giant insult. I’ve lived here, and some of those women know me, and still that’s all they see when they look at me.”

“Maybe Hadley, maybe a couple of others too, but not everyone. The guys love you. You are more than your past.”

“You know that’s all Lindy sees.” She pauses for a beat and meets my eyes. “You know that’s all your parents see.”

I step forward, pull her hands from her hair, and place them at her sides before cupping her face. “Can we talk for a minute about what I see?” I study her—her big eyes, her perfect bow-shaped lips. “Because I see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I see a woman who has sacrificed more for the people she loves than anyone else I know would.” I drag my eyes over her body and back up to her face. “I see someone who’s so precious to me, I hate letting her go when I wake in the morning. Someone who’s so good right here.” I place my hand to the middle of her chest, between her breasts. “Someone who has such a good heart that I know I’m the luckiest sonofabitch anywhere because she gave me a chance. I see a woman I don’t want to lose. A woman I’d fight for and give anything for, even if that means telling bitches like Hadley where they can shove it or buying you the house next door to your sister in Rock Hill so you don’t have to deal with the bullshit of girls like Hadley when I’m not around.”

“Mason—”

“Anything, Bailey. I see a woman I’d do anything to keep in my life. Even things I shouldn’t.” I swallow back my guilt. “I see a woman who’s so unaware of her worth that even as I stand here and say it out loud, I know she doesn’t believe she can take what I’m offering.”

Tears slide from her eyes and down her cheeks, where they wet my thumbs. “I hate them,” she says. “I hate them all so much.”

I’m not even sure who she means—women like Hadley and Lindy? Everybody in this town? The people from her past? But I just whisper, “I know,” and pull her into my chest, saying a silent, desperate prayer.

Please stay with me. Please let me prove this can work.

“Why do you always know exactly what to say?” I ask. That little speech about what he sees when he looks at me might as well have been stolen from my dreams.

Mason rubs my back. “I just say what I mean.”

He’s so warm, and it feels so good to be in his arms. I feel like I’m safe. Like I’m forgiven. Like I’m enough.

When I reach up to touch his face—to make sure this is real and that he is too—my hands are shaking. “I’ve done things, Mason. If you knew all my secrets, you might not want me forever.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’ve wanted you from the beginning, and I’ve never stopped. The question is whether or not you want me.”

I bite my lip. “Of course I do.”

His exhale is heavy, and he pulls me fast against his chest. “Thank God. I’m so fucking in love with you. I don’t want to pretend I’m okay with doing this life without you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper, closing my eyes, searching for my bravery. I always thought people who fiercely pursued their dreams were fearless. There’s nothing more terrifying than accepting the life you want. There is no test of your own self-love and acceptance as great as trying to live your dreams. Do I deserve this? Am I good enough to keep it? What if I’m not?

He pulls back and his lips part. “Say that again.”

“I love you?”

He swallows. “I’m going to need to talk to the coaches about taking the next week off.”

“Why’s that?”

“The girl I’ve loved for four years finally loves me in return. If I had my way, I’d keep her in bed for a week straight.”

Joy surges in my chest, but I play it cool and put my finger to my mouth. “Wouldn’t we get bored?” Mason scoops me into his arms, and I squeak. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking my wife to bed,” he says. His voice is so low and husky it’s like fingertips grazing between my legs.

I loop my arms behind his neck and grin, because scary is also good. So damn good.

When we get to the bedroom, he lowers me to my feet and turns me around so he can unzip my dress. As it falls into a puddle around my feet, I hear his intake of breath, feel the heat of his eyes taking me in. I step out of the dress and turn to face him. “Do you like?” I ask. I’m wearing a new black lace panty set I bought when Mia and I went shopping yesterday. It was a splurge, but seeing his face now makes it totally worth it.

His nostrils flare and his eyes dilate. “Fuck yes.” He unbuttons his shirt in record time, pulling it off and tugging his undershirt over his head. “You’re perfect. Everything about you is perfect.”

I stand, and he comes toward me, shirtless and strong and beautiful. His hands settle on my hips, his thumbs skimming over my navel and then along the lace below. He lowers his mouth to mine as he explores my body as if he’s never seen it before. His kiss is long and slow, and his hands follow suit.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you or about your past,” he says. “Because you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“I have a child, too.”

The words jerk me from my peaceful, post-coital half-sleep state, and I’m sure I didn’t hear him right. We’re in bed, naked limbs tangled together, one of his hands in my hair, the other flat against my back as he looks into my eyes.

“You do? A child?”

His jaw hardens just a bit before he lets out a long breath. “Yeah. I don’t know his name or where he is, or anything about him other than the day he was born.”

I never imagined Mason would have secrets like mine. Isn’t that the perk of having money? You don’t have to have secrets. “What happened?”

“I wish I could say I was as noble as you were.” He grimaces. “I think it’s amazing what you did. You carried a baby and let her best interests lead your decisions. I wasn’t that mature.”

“I was terrified, Mason. Not a martyr.”

He tucks my hair behind my ear. “You were amazing.”

“Tell me what happened with your child.”

“I was in high school and in love. I was an idiot. I didn’t care for sex with condoms. She was on the pill so I figured it didn’t matter, but apparently, if you’re not great about taking your pill regularly, it matters quite a bit.

“It was my senior year. I had a full ride to BHU and it really looked like I could do something with football. And then she got pregnant.” He releases me and rolls to his back, stretching his arms above his head and looking at the ceiling. “I was so scared. But it was my baby, you know? Like, sure, it was scary, but there was joy there, too. How can you not be happy about a child? But my parents had other plans for me, and they were beyond disappointed.”

My stomach knots, because I can already predict where this is going, and I don’t like it. “Oh, no.”

“I had a full ride, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to have a job. If she came with me, how were we going to take care of the baby while I was busy with school and football and everything else?”

I place a hand on his chest just so he won’t feel alone. Because I never knew this about Mason, and I can tell that sharing this story is a big deal. He grabs my hand and squeezes before bringing it to his mouth and kissing my knuckles.

“So I told my parents that the way I saw it, we had a choice. They could either help us out so she could come with me, and I could move forward with my football career. Or if they didn’t want anything to do with it, I could decline the scholarship, stay with her, get a job, and be a father to my child. To me, there was no option that didn’t involve being a father.”

“That’s amazing. You were brave. I can’t imagine being with someone who’d be willing to give up so much for me.”

He turns his head and meets my eyes, his gaze intense before he turns away. “My parents didn’t see it that way. They saw options I wouldn’t have considered. And while I shut down that conversation before they even got it started, she listened to what they had to say, and when they pulled out their checkbook, she took what they had to offer.” He swallows hard. “She didn’t believe in abortion, so she ruled that out, but adoption . . . well, she was scared too. She wasn’t ready to be a mom, and I can’t blame her for that. I don’t blame her for that. But it’s that she made the decision with them and not with me. It’s that they took a decision that should have been part mine out of my hands. I always felt like my parents meddled too much in my life, but I never realized how far they were willing to go to control me.”

I cling to his hand and squeeze my eyes shut. God, if I’d known, would I have taken the money? Christian knew exactly what he was doing when he made that offer. He warned me that Mason would never forgive me if he believed I’d taken the money, but I had no way of realizing how deep those feelings went. “Your father really didn’t want you to be with her, did he?”

He huffs. “Quite the opposite. He was banking on us ending up together—but only after I’d finished college and been drafted, only after she’d finished her marketing degree.” He makes a throaty sound that’s pretty close to a growl. “It wasn’t enough to plan out my life. He wanted me to follow his plan, on his timetable. My opinions, my feelings, all irrelevant.”

“That’s insane. I’m so sorry, Mason.”

“If my parents ever try to get to you, just tell me, okay? My father doesn’t understand that the world is not his to control.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing his understanding of his father’s true nature would work to my benefit but knowing that the opposite is true. “So that was the end between you and the girl?”

He draws me against his chest and kisses the top of my head. “She could have talked to me. She could have told me she was scared or that she didn’t want a baby. But she just disappeared instead. Left me and gave our child away without even warning me.”

Could you ever forgive her? I think, but I’m too afraid to ask the question, too afraid what the answer might mean for us.

“It’s better this way. My son has loving parents who wanted him, and I’m not stuck in some loveless marriage with Lindy.”

Lindy was the one who had his baby. Lindy took his father’s money, and now he hates her more than I’d realized he was capable of hating anyone. What happens when I tell him I took Christian’s money too? I’m glad he has me clutched so tightly to his chest. Maybe he won’t notice I’m shaking.