Page 36 of Golden Goal

“Nowhere. Sorry.”

Ansley chuckles from the other side of me. “Interesting. Care to share?”

“No. I think I’m going to get a drink.” I stand, grabbing my empty cup from the coffee table, and make my way into the kitchen.

“Doc, Doc,” Wes calls from where he’s peeking his head out of a door down the hall.

“What?”

“Come here,” he hisses, waving me over. “I need your opinion about something.”

“You’re not going to have me check out . . . something private, are you? Because I’m not that kind of doctor.” I take a few tentative steps toward him.

He barks out a laugh. “No, it’s a book.”

“Oh-kay,” I draw out, walking over to him. “What’s up?”

“What do you think this means?” He pulls said book out from behind his back.

I gasp when I read the title—What to Expect When You’re Expecting.

“Where did you find it?” I ask, glancing back down the hallway to make sure we’re still alone.

“In the bathroom.” He tips his chin toward the counter. “It was sitting there.”

“Well,” I drawl. “I don’t think we should jump to conclusions.”

“Who’s jumping to conclusions?” Holt says from behind me.

“Holy shit.” I put a hand on my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. “No one,” I say over my shoulder.

His nostrils flare as he glances between me and his teammate. I look at Wes, who’s standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back.

“Fine. Sorry to intrude,” Holt says, and I hear the jealousy in his voice.

“I was asking Doc’s opinion about this.” Wes shows Holt the book.

Holt whistles, and the guys seem to have a silent conversation.

“There you are,” Hunter says, coming down the hallway.

“Oh, shit,” Wes mumbles.

“What’s going on?” Hunter asks, coming to a halt and staring at the three of us.

“I swear I wasn’t snooping, Cap,” Wes mumbles, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Hunter narrows his eyes, and I see it when he registers the book in Wes’s hand.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “I meant to put that away.”

“Does that mean you are?” Wes asks, shaking the book.

I take a step away from them, this is a very private conversation between these guys who are more like brothers than friends, and I’m intruding.

Hunter puts a hand on my arm. “You don’t have to leave.” He turns back to Wes. “Yeah, we are.”

Wes pumps his fist. “Ye—”