“What the fuck, Haynes?”
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Seb confirms. “Make sure you hit the ice bath. Let’s see if we can get that swelling down a bit.”
He walks away before Kyler can argue, already scanning for the next problem to fix.
Watching him like this still hits me sometimes. Little brother energy gone. Authority in its place. And he owns it. I’m so fucking proud of him. It can’t have been easy living in a household as the youngest brother of triplets who participated in any and all sports we could get our hands on growing up.
Well, except for basketball.
Killian and Bishop and I were a force to be reckoned with for as long as I can remember. When Sebastian came along we were all excited for a little brother. He loved sports as much as we did and was always our biggest cheerleader, but playing them? It just wasn’t his thing.
Science was his thing. His passion. Somehow we all knew he would go into the medical field and to see him now, doingwhat he loves, with the team I play for…yeah. It’s fucking awesome and I never take it for granted.
Jake nudges me with his elbow. “You’re in a weirdly good mood.”
I shrug, twisting the cap off my water bottle.
He’s not wrong. Something does feel lighter tonight. Not because of the win. Wins feel good in that familiar, all-in-a-day’s-work kind of way. But this…this feels different. And a little unexpected.
A laugh echoes in my memory, sharp and unapologetic, along with something about professional athletes being nothing but grown men in expensive pants.
And I grin despite myself.
Orry catches it immediately and points to me. “See? That. That smile. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I say. “It’s nothing.”
“Sus, bro,” Bennett says. “Clearly it’s not nothing.”
“Suspicious, indeed,” Boone agrees.
“Yo, Haynes!” Micah Brannigan, one of our equipment managers, calls out. His voice carries across the locker room as he scoops up my helmet along with Jake’s. “Heard you got yourself a pretty little waitress, huh?”
The room goes quiet.
How the fuck does he know this?
My jaw tenses as I look at him. Something about this fuckwad has always rubbed me the wrong way but I can’t put a finger on why. Maybe it’s that his personality reminds me of some of the disrespectful douche nozzles I went to high school with. Or maybe it’s that he’s a walking talking chauvinistic asshole with clearly no self-awareness.
“What do you know about it?” I say evenly.
Micah shakes his head. “Oh nothing. Just heard from a buddy of mine that Shepherd Haynes was flirting with a girl ina bar. That’s all.” He gives me a light fist to the upper arm. “Proud of ya, man.”
I narrow my eyes. “Thanks.”
He picks up Kyler’s helmet and puts it under his arm. “Bet she wasrealgrateful for those tips, huh? Those waitress girls always are. Probably showed her appreciation real nice.” He makes an obscene gesture with his hips that has my blood instantly boiling. “Some of them know how to say thank you, am I right?”
I’m on my feet before I even realize I’m moving. The bench scrapes loudly against the floor.
“You need to stop talking. Right fucking now.” My voice comes out low and dangerous.
Micah’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he laughs nervously, glancing around at the guys like he expects them to join in. “Come on, man. I’m only having some fun. We all know what those girls are like?—”
“What exactly are they like, Micah?” I ask, my voice so controlled it barely sounds like me.
The room falls completely silent. Even the music seems to fade into the background. Micah, finally realizing he’s stepped in it, swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly as he takes a half-step back. “I just meant?—”
“I think I know exactly what you meant.” I move closer, not touching him but making sure he feels my presence. “And you don’t know shit about her. Or any woman, apparently.”
