Page 45 of Cross Check Daddies
I should leave. Not my place. She might not want to talk. Might not want to see anyone connected to the team, let alone me. But that doesn’t stop my feet from moving. Doesn’t stop the slow, even breath I take before walking across the dining room and sliding into the booth beside her without asking.
She looks up, startled. Her eyes widen for a second. Then drop.
“Coach.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, not bothering to sugarcoat it. She’s not the type who needs coddling.
She doesn’t answer. Just presses her head into my shoulder like something broke open in her, and I’m the only thing solid enough to lean on. I freeze.
Her body’s warm against mine, softer than I expected. I don’t move at first, because Christ, my cock responds like a dumb teenager’s. Surges in my jeans, thick and insistent, like it heard something it liked and wants to ruin everything with it.
I grit my teeth and force my voice to stay level. “Brooke.”
She doesn’t speak. Just stays there, tucked into me like maybe I’m not a coach or a boss. Like I’m just someone who showed up when she needed it. I slide my arm around her back slowly, the way you’d hold a live wire. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Bad night?” I ask quietly.
She nods. No details. No defense. That’s enough.
I wave over the waiter, still holding her close. “Wrap her food up. To-go. Mine too.”
He gives me a nod and scurries off. I glance down at her. “C’mon. Let me take you home.”
She lifts her head slowly, eyes still shining but dry now. “You don’t have to?—”
“I know.”
The bag comes. I pay. We leave without another word.
Outside, the air’s cooler, but not enough to do shit about the heat still pooling low in my gut from the way she leaned into me. I walk with her to the curb.
“Where’s your car?”
She exhales. “At the car wash. Got stuck behind some weekend line, left it there.”
I nod once. “We’ll take mine.”
I open the passenger side of my SUV and wait as she climbs in, skirts her bag across her lap, legs tucked neatly to the side. She looks smaller now. Not fragile. Just... unfinished. Like herarmor cracked somewhere, and she doesn’t know how to patch it yet.
As I round the front, I adjust my jeans. My cock’s still heavy against my thigh, annoyed with me for not doing anything about her body against mine earlier. I ignore it.
Once I’m in and the engine’s humming, I glance over. She’s looking out the window.
“You want music?”
She shakes her head.
I don’t press. Just drive.
The silence is thick but not awkward. Her thigh brushes mine every time we hit a bump. The bag shifts in her lap. Her lashes cast shadows across her cheeks in the glow of the dashboard lights.
I want to ask what happened. What made her drop her guard enough to press into someone like me. We are not exactly friends, are we?
We pull into my building’s underground lot, and I ease the SUV into its usual spot. The engine ticks when I kill it. She’s still quiet, looking out the windshield like maybe if she stares long enough, she’ll disappear into the concrete wall. I turn toward her.
“Where’s your kid tonight?”
She doesn’t flinch. “With the nanny. Overnights are rare, but I needed it.”
