Page 42 of Sin Bin Daddies
Madeline’s head snaps toward me, surprised. Asher lifts a brow, amused as hell.
“You sure?” she asks.
I nod.
She shrugs. “Alright, thanks.”
Asher’s grin deepens. “How wholesome. Our Mads getting escorted home by the team’s grumpiest goalie.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, turning toward the exit.
I hear her laugh before she follows me out.
We walk down the quiet halls, the noise of the locker room fading behind us.
I try not to notice how small she is next to me. How her hair is still damp, her cheeks still flushed, her legs long in those tiny shorts. How she smells like fucking coconut and summer.
I drag a hand over my jaw, trying to shake it off.
“Where’s your car?” I ask.
She sighs. “Took an Uber.”
I nod, leading her to my truck.
She stops when she sees it, eyes widening. “You drive this?”
“Problem?” I grin.
She tilts her head, eyeing the truck. “Just trying to figure out how the hell I’m gonna get in.”
“Want help?” I offer.
She exhales, stepping aside. “Be my guest.”
Without thinking, I reach for her waist, lifting her with ease. She’s warm under my hands, the scent of coconut wrapping around me like a goddamn vise.
Fuck.
The second she’s settled, I step back fast, slamming the door shut like it might stop whatever the hell that was.
Get it together, Ford.
I climb into the driver’s seat and buckle in.
“Ready?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah.”
I shift the truck into drive, and we pull onto the road.
For a minute, it’s quiet.
Then I catch her glancing at me.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re glaring.”
