I roll my eyes. “I wish you had too. You could have told mewho it was I was about to crash into, and I could have avoided this whole fucking fiasco.”
“Yeah, but then you wouldn’t have had all the amazing sex.” Emmy plops down on the floor with a mason jar of soda. She has a weird habit of drinking only out of mason jars with glass straws—which, like, drinking receptacles are personal, so you won’t catch me criticizing. But I know there’s Diet Pepsi in that jar, andthatI’m definitely criticizing because, fucking gross. “Now, what’s the deal with the thermos? No secrets in this group.”
I sigh, taking a long sip of my orange soda. “He gave me a thermos full of iced coffee. Fucking iced coffee, exactly the way I like it. He even got the ratio of coffee to vanilla syrup one hundred percent perfect, which is almost impossible to do in a cup that big. I know because I’ve done extensive research.”
“How did he know how you took your coffee?” Caitlin asks, putting a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and taking a seat on my other side. “And your weird cereal addiction and all your favorite snacks?”
I blow out a breath. “It wasn’t all sex that night. We talked too.”
Maya sits up straight and puts on her teacher face. “Allow me to recap. So Dreamy McHotStuff saw you in the lobby on your first day of work after you left him high and dry at four in the morning, assumed you wouldn’t have eaten breakfast, and went to procure you said breakfast and all your favorite snacks. He then hunted you down in your office, where the two of you proceeded to have what sounds like an extremely delightful conversation filled with the kind of banter romance dreams are made of. Then, when you shut down any more sexy stuff on account of you being a motherfucking badass professional, he smiled, dropped the bag full of breakfast and snacks, and left. And for the last six days, you’ve come into the office every morning to find coffee, breakfast, and snacks for the day waiting for you on your desk with a note. Am I missing anything?”
The notes, I think. She’s missing the notes that say things likeHave a great day, Maddy, andYou looked really pretty yesterdayandI’m so glad I get to see your face every day. The notes I didn’t tell them about because they’re the opposite ofjust friends,and I should absolutely shut it down, but instead I’ve read every single one of them approximately a million times and have stored them away in my desk drawer like they’re letters from my long-lost love or something.
I’m not proud.
“You’ve got it all,” I mumble. “What am I supposed to do about this?”
“Fuck him again,” Sarah says with a grin.
“Girl, yes.” Emmy holds up a hand that Sarah immediately slaps.
“You have to.” Sophie nods seriously. “For science. Science is counting on you, Mads.”
Huffing out a laugh, I glance around at my friends sprawled out around the open concept living room. I haven’t talked to Cam much since I saw him with his kids at the rink after my first day of work—something I haven’t told my friends yet. But god, seeing the man as a dad added a whole new layer of complication to this already extremely fucked up shitshow because his kids were great, and the way he looked at them like they’re the center of his universe was one of the most attractive things I’ve ever seen. And considering the fact that I’ve seen the man completely naked and kneeling on the floor between my legs, that’s saying something.
On my second day, all the players were back in the training facility, so I’ve been busy doing initial evaluations with everyone and getting the lay of the land. I’ve seen him here and there, though, and he’s definitely made himself known. A smile. A wave. A wink that makes me feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust. And every single day, I’ve come into work to coffee, an array of mini cereal boxes, and M&M’s and popcorn waiting for me on my desk.
And the fucking notes.
It took me six days and one pre-season game I watched from the sidelines where Cam shot me that wink that turns my insides to Jello every time he caught my eye to finally tell my friends everything. I desperately need someone to tell me to get my shit together and forget about the hot dad who, as it turns out, is a really good man.
I should have known I would get the exact opposite of that in this group.
I swing my legs up on the couch, sitting cross-legged and surveying my people. “You guys are no help at all. Not only would it be, like, wildly unethical, but literally no one in this league will take me seriously if they find out. It’s hard enough for women in professional sports, and extra hard for me because everyone probably already thinks I got the job because my uncle is the general manager. If I sleep with a player, my career is over before it even starts.”
“We’re just messing with you, you know that right?” Sarah says, her voice serious.
“She’s right.” Maya lays a hand over mine. “We’re on your side, Mads. If you want to shut this all down, we’ll help you find a way to do that. We want what you want.”
“Do you?” Caitlin asks. “Want to shut it all down?” Her voice holds no judgment, only curiosity, and something about her uncharacteristic softness disarms me entirely, causing my filter to disappear.
“I should,” I mumble, dropping my face into my hands. “I almost told him to knock it off a million times this week. But I like him. Goddammit. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“What if you didn’t do anything?” Emmy muses, propping her chin in her hands. “He’s a nice guy who brings you snacks and makes going to work fun. What if you just let it ride?”
“She’s not wrong,” Sophie says. “You’re going to be working closely with all these guys, and you’re bound to end up friendswith some of them. I mean, for fuck’s sake, the quarterback is your sort-of cousin and one of your best friends.”
“The party has arrived!”
“Speak of the devil.” Maya laughs as the door to the town house swings open and the aforementioned sort-of cousin, Tyler Hansley, strolls in, followed by my younger brother, Oliver, and Caitlin’s twin brother, Jack.
I shoot a glance at all the girls that saysSay fucking nothing. Not only is Tyler Cam’s teammate and good friend, but he also has no filter and absolutely no secret-keeping ability.
“Hey, Sophie baby,” Tyler says with a grin, wedging his big body onto the arm of Sophie’s chair and dropping a kiss on her cheek, entirely oblivious to the flush that crawls up her neck and the way she holds herself practically rigid, like she’s resisting the urge to lean into him.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, watching Sophie shift to the right, putting some space between her and Tyler, and then seeing her flush deepen as Tyler moves himself right over.
“Family dinner.” Jack plops down on the floor next to Sarah and bumps her shoulder with his. A carbon copy of his dad, Ben, Jack is, like, the most wholesome man on the planet. A Pittsburgh boy through and through, he officially took over Fireside last year, the South Side bar Ben co-owns with my dad. He’s the cheerful counterweight to his twin sister’s often overly serious disposition and the steady beating heart of this little friend/family group of ours.
