bullpenbabe14: uh oh…. sorry Daddy!
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Gross.
southside_sanity: Hayes Carlisle playing protective big brother… I die
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“Give that to me.” Leighton swipes the phone from my hand and shoves it at Lake. “She doesn’t need to see it.”
“Hayes commented.” I stare at Leighton, who is now shoulder to shoulder with Lake.
Before I can form the next sentence, the clubhouse doors swing open, and my brother storms out.
“Hayes.”
He walks past me without a glance.
Then Foster steps out, his eyes finding me immediately, and he gives one small shake of his head.
And just like that, the ground drops out from under me.
Chapter
Thirty-One
Foster
* * *
Hayes doesn’t answer the question, stepping off the pedestal and out of the press room.
I follow, but Easton and Decker decide to as well, and somehow, they’re the human version of a revolving door. Decker’s shoulder clips mine. Easton throws a look over his shoulder as though he’s about to try to tell me not to go after Hayes.
Just try it.
Questions still ring out in the room.
“Wentzel said no more questions,” Easton mutters as though he’s doing damage control for all of us.
“The rest of you have a good night,” Wentzel says, ushering everyone out with the same tone a kindergarten teacher uses the day before Christmas break.
Once we’re in the hallway, I push past Decker and Easton and head straight for the locker room.
Thankfully, the place is empty. The rest of the team went home, probably already laughing about something on the group chat that I’m definitely not reading tonight.
Hayes is at his locker, packing his bag.
“Hey,” I say softly, hoping to keep this between us. “I wanted to tell you.”
“Funny how that works,” he says without looking at me. His voice is tight and flat and not one he’s ever used with me. He glances over, eyes sharp. “You’re with me all the time, so if you’d wanted to tell me you fucked my sister and got her pregnant, I’m pretty sure you could have found your moment.” He shoves a sweatshirt into his bag and zips it up—hard.
“I’m not doing this here. I’ll see you at Peeper’s.” He slides his bag over his shoulder and walks out.
“Hayes, come on.” I move after him. “Let’s talk about it.”
He doesn’t stop.
