Page 67 of Offsides

“Just what the fuck happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Liam got a call from Dash this morning, telling him he was in jail. Liam said he tried calling you, but there wasn't an answer, so he called me. He didn’t want to interrupt Gunnar and Felicity—something about their wedding night?”

Liam tried calling him? Frantically patting his jeans pocket for his phone, Cowboy came up empty. Where the hell was his phone? Didn’t matter now; he’d missed the calls. Damn thing was probably still on silent from the wedding last night. He’d been so wrapped up in Theo, in telling her how he felt and then getting her back here to show her how he felt that his phone had been the last thing on his mind.

“Surprise, the boss lady had a Vegas wedding last night.”

“Good for them, I guess. At least until we have to ruin it with this. What a way to start a marriage.”

What a way indeed. Cowboy was dreading that conversation, especially since he knew it would be best coming from him, rather than Keaton. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He needed to focus on the rest of it. Like what the fuck actually went down and if Dash was being charged.

“Is he still in jail?”

“He is. I spoke with the police, explained who he was, why we’re in town, all that. The sergeant I spoke to said that if we come down there, show them some ID, and verify he works for us, that they’ll let him go.”

“Just like that?”

“Apparently. Sergeant said Dash was found outside The Landing Strip, naked as the day he was born, trying to salsa dance with people. When the cops got to him, they could smell alcohol on his breath, so they figured he was just drunk and brought him in to sleep it off in the drunk tank. However, once they got to the station, there was a drug dog on scene, who just lost his shit when Dash walked by him. So they swabbed him, and sure enough, there was cocaine on his skin. His piss test was negative though.”

“So he didn’t actually do the drugs, just rolled around in them?”

Fuck, this just got better by the second. What the fuck had Dash been thinking?

Cowboy started to pace, his anxiety on the rise. Their first major tournament, first Fremont Cup win, first piece of hardware as a team. What had been an incredible accomplishment for an expansion team was now forever going to be in the shadow of their first team arrest. Maybe they could keep this quiet. If the cops were willing to let him go and not press any kind of charges, then maybe this could be swept under the rug. At least publicly.

Privately, Dash was in for a world of hurt. Nothing on this planet would save him from the wrath that was coming his way. From Cowboy, from Gunnar, from Felicity, from the Atlanta Rising organization as a whole. There would be lots of extra running, community service, and missed games in his future. But all that needed to be handled by the team, on their terms, keeping the media out of it.

If Cowboy knew anything, that was easier said than done.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“You want to go get him, or you want to be the one to inform the newlyweds?”

Cowboy let out a groan. Neither of those were a good choice. What he wanted was to climb back in bed with Theo and spend the rest of the morning worshipping her. Getting lost in her laugh and drunk off those cute little cooing sounds she made whenever he was in between her thighs. Followed by a late brunch before they got on the plane headed back to Atlanta. That was what this morning was supposed to be filled with. Instead it was going to be spent filling out paperwork at a police station and listening to a very angry Felicity.

Fuuuuuuck…

“I’ll go get him, deal with the cops, all that. Players are my responsibility. Gunnar and Felicity are in room 1750, although I would highly suggest calling Dalton first and having him go with you. He’ll maybe be able to help keep the calm when they find out. I’ll call you once Dash and I leave the station, and we can figure out where we’re all gonna meet. Have you call Jenn in PR yet?”

“Who?”

“Jenn Gaffney. She’s the Vice President of External Communications and Public Relations for Southland Holdings. She can prepare a statement if something comes up.”

“Let’s pray it doesn’t,” Keaton said, nodding and heading toward the door.

“Britt!”

Theo’s voice called out from the other room, the door connecting the suites swinging open. Keaton stopped in his tracks, and both he and Cowboy turned to watch Theo walk toward them. She’d changed into jeans and his jersey, her hair hastily pulled back into a messy bun. She looked so fucking cute that Cowboy could barely contain the urge to kiss her. A flash of anger hit him that he was missing out on a lazy morning with her. Scolding himself, he huffed out a breath. He couldn’t focus on that now. He needed to fix this Dash problem before it became a bigger problem.

“Theo,” Keaton said in greeting, a mischievous smile forming. Cowboy watched as his former teammate’s gaze lingered on Theo a little too long for his liking. There was no way Keaton didn’t at least have suspicions there was something between them, making this move more than a little dick-ish in his mind.

“Keaton,” she greeted in return.

“I know we talked about breakfast,” Cowboy said, hoping that his words were making it perfectly clear to the other man in the room that this beauty was spoken for. “But we’ve got an issue that needs taking care of.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”