Page 11 of Cross Check Daddies
“I’ll be fine, just need some time to think.”
“Understood. Let me know if you need anything.”
I end the call and let the silence settle in the office. I’m alone. Jackson’s at school, and I’ve got plenty of time to figure out what the hell to do.
I walk over to the little coffee station I set up in my office, but instead of coffee, I grab the bottle of Cabernet I opened yesterday. I need something to calm the nerves—the buzzing in my head. The last thing I want right now is to be thinking about Cam. But here I am. Even my thoughts are betraying me.
The wine hits my chest in the best way—warm and full of berries, a flavor I’ve come to associate with moments I wish I could forget. I’m not sure if it’s the wine or just the weight of what’s been building in my mind, but I end up finishing half the glass in one go.
I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes for a moment, just trying to reset. Ivy hasn’t returned my call. I tell myself it’s fine, that I don’t need to dump all this on her anyway. But I couldreally use someone to talk to right now, someone who isn’t involved in this mess.
I grab my laptop, almost without thinking. Gaming is my usual escape, even if it’s not a perfect distraction. But maybe it’ll give me something else to focus on, a break from my spiraling thoughts.
I fire up the gaming app, my fingers already twitching with the need to compete. I load up Call of Duty, expecting IceVice to be online, but the little circle next to the name is grey. Damn it, they are offline. With a frustrated sigh, I shut off my laptop.
I grab my keys and head out of the office, making my way to my car. The drive home is short, and when I get inside, the silence greets me like an old friend.
I head straight for the bathroom, deciding I need a bath to help me unwind. I start running the water, adding some lavender bath salts to the tub. As the steam rises, I strip down and slip into the bath, leaning back and closing my eyes, letting the heat soak into my muscles, hoping it’ll ease the tension that’s been building all day. My mind starts to wander again—back to the decision I have to make.
The scent of lavender fills the air, and for a brief moment, I let go of everything—the deal, Cam, the past. The warm water wraps around me like a temporary escape.
Then I hear it.
A faint creak beneath the tub. Subtle, almost dismissible.
I freeze.
Then, there's another groan, deeper this time—wood straining under weight. My pulse quickens. I glance around, suddenly aware of how still everything is… How wrong it feels.
The floor shudders.
I quickly climb out of the tub to investigate, but just a few seconds later, the floor gives way with a deafening crack.
The tub drops.
Water explodes upward as the porcelain crashes through splintering floorboards. I scramble, soaked and slipping, barely catching myself on the edge of what’s left. Below, jagged beams and broken pipes jut out like bones through a wound. Steam rises from the wreckage.
I should have known. It feels like a sign, something telling me that this whole thing, this deal, this decision—it’s all wrong. The universe is trying to warn me, and I can’t ignore it anymore.
I stare at the mess for a moment longer before grabbing a towel and retreating to my bedroom. I collapse on the bed, the weight of everything settling over me. I can’t do this. Not now, not with the past haunting me, and Cam’s face still burned into my mind.
My phone buzzes again. It’s Ivy. I hesitate for just a second before I answer.
“Hey." My voice is steady, even though everything inside me is unraveling. “I need to talk,” I say before she can speak.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tanner
By the timeI’m riding home from practice, the sun’s already starting to dip low enough to throw gold over the sidewalks.
Sweat clings to my back, my arms aching in that good, used-up way. The engine hums under me, the throttle smooth and familiar in my grip.
I’ve got the kind of hunger that starts behind your ribs and settles in your jaw, and I’m already thinking about steak, a cold beer, maybe a nap on the balcony couch I still haven’t brought in.
That’s when the dog barrels into the road.
Bulldog. Stocky little tank of an animal with jowls flapping and eyes wild. I curse and swerve, rubber shrieking against asphalt, my front tire catching on the curb. I go down hard. My helmet takes the brunt, but pain sings through the rest of me. The bike scrapes a few feet ahead, engine cutting out with a final gasp.
