Page 140 of The Penalty

THIRTY-SEVEN

RHYS

“Do you need a hug?” Wolfe asks when I walk into practice the next day.

I glance around, sure there must be someone behind me Wolfe is talking to. “Me?”

“Obviously.” Wolfe opens his arms.

“Will you leave the kid alone? You’re scaring him.” Seaborn shoves him, but because Wolfe is so massive, he doesn’t move an inch, which is wild because Seaborn is an enforcer. A type of defensive player whose entire job in the sport is to go after other defensive players who are going too hard on his offense. He’s big and made to pick fights.

“I am not. He needs a hug,” Wolfe argues, trying to shove Seaborn back who also is an immoveable wall.

Not the two dudes I want to be stuck between.

“You can’t just ambush a guy,” Seaborn says, annoyed.

“If you’ll just let me get by so I can get dressed.” I try to step around them, but they are taking up the entire hallway just inside the locker room.

“Hug first.”

“Down Wolfe.” Seaborn snaps his fingers.

“I’m not your pet! I have an owner!”

Both Seaborn and I stare at Wolfe.

He grins like a shark and shrugs.

“Anyway, can I just get by?” I ask again.

“No, even if you reject Wolfe’s weird advances, we need to know you’re okay.” Seaborn crosses his arms.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” I ask. I’m not okay, but what the fuck else is new? My entire life is crumbling around me.

“Lancelot texted me and told me you’re not doing so hot.” Wolfe starts side-eyeing Seaborn.

“We were told that your best friend is mad at you. Do we need to get the team psychologist out here? Teddy said it might help with your anxiety, which has been bad lately, to have your chickpeas aligned, whatever that means. But it sounds serious.” Seaborn looks more serious than I’ve ever seen him.

“Is this an intervention?” I scrub a hand over my face. It was a mistake introducing them. Fuck my life.

They exchange a glance.

“Maybe,” Wolfe admits.

“You did miss your shot against your boyfriend and we are worried you’re stressed out. There are actually a lot of medications that can be taken while playing NCAA sports that we can have the psychologist look into.” Seaborn puts his hand on my shoulder.

I look at the ceiling. “I’m fine.”

“We know you’re not.” Wolfe wraps me up in a hug. “You can’t gaslight us!”

“Consent, my dude,” Seaborn says from somewhere behind Wolfe.

I would object, but I can’t breathe, so I wait until Wolfe puts me down to speak. “Okay, I’m not fine, my life is falling apart around me and there is nothing I can do about it. That’s it.”

“Do you want me to call off the dogs?” Cox calls out from behind the wall of muscle.

“Please!” I say, hoping he’ll be a voice of reason.

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