I sigh. “Things got ugly. The stuff that she said to her friend… I couldn’t even look at her after I read what I did. I took her phone as evidence in the event she gives birth and tries to pin it on me.”
“Do you think she will?”
“I’m an optimist. Everything will work out in our favor.” I look at her and wink. She holds my gaze for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or so before turning away with blushed cheeks. “I’m thinking Chinese for dinner.”
“Sounds good.”
I place the order quickly and reach for the controller. “You’re the Patriots?”
“Of course,” she says as she scrolls through the many options for her offense.
“Why not the Pioneers?”
Peyton shrugs. “I heard their quarterback has sloppy footwork.”
I try not to laugh, but there’s no use. “Touché.”
It’s been days since I made my intentions known to Peyton, and she’s still keeping me at an arm’s length. I’m fine with it because it means I have to work harder and I’m not afraid to put in the effort. She’s worth it. We’re worth it. However, something has been weighing heavily on my mind, and while her parents know we’ve been spending time together, they’re under the impression I’ve been checking on her, making sure she’s eating, getting to her therapy appointments, all the stuff Katelyn’s worried about.
Not the case. I haven’t left. When Peyton goes to bed, I sleep on the couch. It wasn’t a decision I consciously made, but that first day, which turned into night, we fell asleep watching a movie. I wish I could say a few of my dreams about her turned into reality, but the truth is, we both stayed on our own sides of the sectional. I’m not even upset about it. As much as I’d love to hold her at night, knowing she’s safe and not alone is far more important.
I hate leaving her and she knows it. In fact, she’s called me out on what she says is obsessive hovering. My girl is fiercely independent and doesn’t understand that I need to be near her. It’s not because she’s recovering, but because she makes me feel like I have a place in this world, that I’m not Liam Page’s son or the starting quarterback (at least last season) of the Portland Pioneers. To Peyton, I’m Noah. The guy she’s known her entire life and once called her best friend. To me, she’s everything.
And that’s why I’ve left her in the hands of Quinn. It wasn’t easy trying to find out when he’d be home without giving much away, but I couldn’t very well leave her all alone for a few days. I’ve told Peyton my last lie. At best, it could be considered a fib. I told her I had to fly home to take care of business. I didn’t specify said business had to do with her.
If she were any other woman, talking to her parents about pursuing a relationship with her would never cross my mind, but as luck would have it, her father and mine are best friends. Her mother is my aunt purely in the sense our mothers are also best friends. I owe it to Harrison and Katelyn to seek their permission.
I haven’t thought about what I’ll do if they say no. I suppose I’m counting on them saying yes and wishing me luck because they probably know I’ll need it. If they’re not happy… well, I’ll cross the proverbial bridge when I come to it.
The lady at the ticket booth smiles as she hands me my pass. My dad was excited to hear I wanted to attend their concert. When I told him why, he grew silent on the phone, but told me my credentials would be waiting for me.
By the time I make it to backstage, my dad and the band are well into their set. My mom, Katelyn and Jenna give me hugs. I look around and find Eden and Betty Paige sitting in the corner, focusing on their iPads, most likely doing homework. Honestly, I’m surprised to see the girls. I would think school is more important than traveling with the band while they help out an up and coming act.
I tap Paige on the shoulder and motion for her to move over so I can sit between them. Eden smiles and sets the device in my lap and both girls lean into me. Looking at us from the outside shows how tight-knit of a family we are, and some may balk at Peyton and I dating, but to me, it’s the only thing that makes sense. For years, she followed me around and I never discouraged her. I loved having her by my side, on the sidelines for football and in the dugout when I was playing baseball. We were meant to be.
Once the show’s over, we all head to the dressing room. I’m nervous. My palms are sweating. My heart’s racing. And the words I had planned to say to Harrison no longer exist. Inside, champagne is poured and another successful show is celebrated, all while I stand in the corner contemplating what my life would be like without Peyton.
I can’t even begin to imagine.
I didn’t while she was lying in the hospital bed and I won’t now.
“Excuse me, Harrison. Do you think I could speak to you in the other room?”
He looks at me oddly, as he should.
“What’s going on, Noah? Is Peyton okay?” Katelyn asks, her face full of worry.
“Peyton’s great. In fact, Quinn should be with her. Don’t worry, she’s in good hands.” I immediately regret those words even though I’ve yet to touch her.
“Maybe we could go to the hall?” I motion toward the door as I try to avoid eye contact with my mother, whose beaming smile is distracting me. One look at my dad tells me he knows what I’m about to do and for the life of me, I can’t decipher if he’s okay with it or not.
Harrison follows me out into the hall where two security guards block access to the dressing room. I clear my throat, square my shoulders and look into his eyes, while my stomach twists, turns and threatens to expel its contents all over his Doc Martens.
“So you’re probably wondering why I needed to speak with you.”
“I am. Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“No, sir.” I clear my throat again. “I’d like your permission to date Peyton.” The words seem to come out in a rush.