THE QUARTERBACKS UNTOUCHABLE GIRL

HIS SECRET

I looked up and my entire world tilted sideways. Dax Montero stood over me, and he wasn't alone. In his arms, fussing and whimpering, was a baby. An actual baby, maybe a year old, with dark curly hair and chubby cheeks. She was wearing pink pajamas with little stars on them and she was gnawing on her fist like she was trying to eat it.

A baby. Dax Montero was holding an actual baby. I blinked, sure I was hallucinating. Maybe the cold had messed with my brain. Because there was no way the golden boy quarterback was standing in the school library after midnight with an infant in his arms. But he was still there when I opened my eyes. And the baby was still crying. "Thorne?" His voice was low, shocked. "What are you doing here?" The baby wailed louder. A little girl, maybe a year old, with dark curly hair and chubby cheeks. She wore pink pajamas with stars on them.

This was real. I scrambled to my feet, my legs numb from the cold floor. I grabbed the shelf for balance and books crashed down around me. "I could ask you the same thing," I managed. My voice shook. "Why do you have a baby?" His jaw tightened. The baby screamed and he bounced her automatically, natural, like he'd done it a million times before. "Shh, Willa. It's okay, baby." His voice went soft when he talked to her. Willa. He'd named her. Oh my god. This was his baby.

Dax Montero had a baby and nobody at school knew. "You can't tell anyone." His eyes snapped back to me, hard and threatening. "I'm serious, Astrid. Not a word." "I won't," I said quickly. "I swear." He studied my face like he was trying to decide if he believed me. The baby kept crying, getting louder, more desperate. "D*mn it." He shifted her to his other shoulder, patting her back. Nothing worked. She just screamed harder. I stood there frozen, watching Dax Montero fall apart. His hair was messy. He had bags under his eyes. His shirt had spit-up on the shoulder. He looked nothing like the confident guy who strutted through school hallways. He looked exhausted.

"How long has she been crying?" I asked. "Two hours. Maybe three. I don't know anymore." His voice cracked with frustration. "Nothing helps. I've tried everything." The baby arched her back, her face turning red. The sound echoed through the empty library. I don't know what made me do it. Maybe because she sounded so miserable. Maybe because even though I hated Dax, I couldn't stand watching a baby suffer. "Let me try," I said. He looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "What?" "Let me hold her. Maybe she just needs someone different."

"You don't know anything about babies." "Neither do you apparently, since she won't stop crying." His eyes flashed with anger but Willa screamed again and he gave up. "Fine. Here." He held her out and I took her carefully, supporting her head. She was heavier than I expected. Warm and solid. "Hey, sweet girl," I murmured, settling her against my chest. "I know. Everything's terrible, isn't it?" I started swaying side to side. Gentle. Rhythmic. My mom used to do this with me before she left. I barely remembered it but my body seemed to know the movement. I hummed quietly. Nothing specific, just a low sound.

Willa's screams started to quiet. The tension left her little body. She grabbed a fistful of my hoodie and shoved it in her mouth, gnawing on the fabric. Within a minute, she was calm. Just making soft whimpering sounds. I looked up and found Dax staring at me with an expression I'd never seen on his face before. Something that made my heart do a weird flip. "How did you do that?" His voice was quiet. "I don't know. Lucky, I guess." Willa's eyes were drooping. She was falling asleep against my shoulder, her breathing evening out.

"She's teething," Dax said after a long silence. "It's been hell all week. She won't sleep. Won't stop crying. My mom works night shifts so I'm on my own most of the time." He was telling me personal things. Real things. Like I was an actual person instead of the fat girl he and his friends made fun of. "How old is she?" I asked quietly. "She turned one last month." "And her mom?" His face went hard. Dark. "She left. Two days after Willa was born. Just walked out and never came back."

My chest tightened. "I'm sorry." "Don't be. We're better off." But his voice said he didn't believe that. "Does anyone know? At school?" "No." The word came out sharp. "And it needs to stay that way. I have college scouts watching me this season. Scholarship offers. If they find out I'm a teen dad, they'll think I can't handle it. They'll pass on me." "So you've been hiding her? For a whole year?" "My mom helps when she can. We tell people she's a cousin if anyone asks. But mostly we just keep her away from everyone." I looked down at Willa, asleep now in my arms. She was beautiful. Perfect. And her father was ashamed of her. "That's really messed up," I said before I could stop myself.

His eyes flashed. "You don't understand. You have no idea what kind of pressure I'm under. One mistake and my entire future is gone." "She's not a mistake." "I didn't mean it like that." He ran a hand through his hair. "I love her. But I can't let anyone know. Not yet." We stood there in the dark library, both of us holding secrets that could destroy us. "I need to know you won't tell anyone," he said finally. "About Willa. About seeing me here. Any of it." "I already said I won't. I promise." "Good." He paused. "Now tell me the truth. Why are you really here?" I looked away. "I told you. Studying." "With a bag full of clothes? Try again." D*mn it. He'd seen my stuff spilled out earlier. "It's none of your business." "You're sleeping here," he said. Not a question. "You're homeless."

The word hit me like a physical blow. "So what if I am?" I snapped. "What are you going to do, tell Brynn? Give her more material to torture me with?" Something flickered across his face. Guilt, maybe. Willa stirred in my arms, making a small sound. I bounced her gently and she settled back down. "Where's your family?" Dax asked. "Dead or gone. Take your pick." "What happened?" "My stepmom threw me out today. Said I was almost eighteen and not her problem anymore." The words came out flat. Empty. "So here I am."

He was quiet for a long moment, watching me hold his daughter. "You can't stay here," he said finally. "It's freezing. Security will find you eventually." "I don't have anywhere else to go." The silence stretched between us. Willa's breathing was soft and even against my chest. "Come home with me," Dax said suddenly. I almost dropped the baby. "What?" "My last babysitter quit three weeks ago. Said Willa was too difficult. My mom works insane hours and I'm drowning. You're good with her. Better than anyone I've seen." "You want me to babysit for you?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You hate me." "I don't hate you." "You laugh when Brynn tortures me. You've called me fat to my face." "At school I have to be a certain person," he cut me off. "I have to maintain an image. But here I need actual help and you need a place to stay."

"You want me to live with you?" "Live-in babysitter. Room and board in exchange for helping with Willa. You keep my secret, I give you a roof over your head." I stared at him. This had to be a joke. "And at school?" I asked. "Nothing changes. We don't talk. We don't acknowledge each other. This is just business." Business. Right. "I don't have money to pay rent." "You'd be working. Taking care of Willa when I'm at practice. Making sure she's fed and not screaming at two AM." It was insane. Living with my bully. Taking care of his secret baby. But what choice did I have? "Okay," I heard myself say. "I'll do it." Relief washed over his face. "Good. Let's go before someone finds us."

He reached for Willa but she whimpered and clung to me. "She doesn't want to let go," I said. "Then keep holding her. Come on." I grabbed my bag and followed him through the dark hallways. We slipped out the side door into the freezing night. His car was at the far end of the lot. A beat-up Honda with a car seat in back. I climbed in, my mind racing. I was going home with Dax Montero. What could possibly go wrong?