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Dad pushes through the door to his room and calls out so Mom can hear him over the shower. “Wyatt’s here to get some clothes. Don’t come out naked!”
“Seriously?”
“What? I’d say a solid ninety percent of the time she’s in this room, she’s naked.” He wiggles his brows.
“Ew, stop it. She might not have given birth to me, but she’s still my mom.” I shove his chest and he doesn’t move an inch. He actually stares at me like he’s bored and gives me a ‘really?’look.
“I expected more than that from a professional athlete.”
“Yeah, well, you’re old and I didn’t want to throw out your back or something,” I grumble under my breath. He tosses a shirt in my face before a pair of shorts follow.
“Do you need boxers?”
“Yes, but I'm not wearing yours. Think I’d fit in Creed’s?”
“Creed is half your damn age.” Dad rolls his eyes. “So, no, I don’t think you’re going to fit into a fourteen-year old’s boxers. Here, I never have and never will wear these. Mom bought them as a joke.”
He tosses me a pair of red plaid boxer briefs. I swear they’re the shortest pair I’ve ever seen.
“Maybe I should just go commando.” I grimace.
“Yeah, until you get hit in the balls with a ninety mile an hour fast ball. They’re compression shorts and that’s what you need, so wear the damn things. Also, you’re now going to be late because you spent so much time sassing me.”
He motions to the clock on the wall behind me. I groan and quickly strip out of my clothes, not caring if he sees me naked. I need to get out to the car or Charlie’s going to kill me.
“Wow, I’ve gotten changed in front of a lot of men over the years, but even I probably wouldn’t drop my clothes that quickly in front of my dad.” He stares at me with wide eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jealous, but I'm late.”
“Jealous? Seriously? Have you seen what your old man is still working with? My abs are still just as defined as yours.” He lifts the hem of his shirt and sure enough, he still has a better body than half the professional athletes I know.
I know without a doubt, he could probably outplay all of them too. He’s always taken fitness seriously and living on MulberryLane, all the men workout together. They keep each other accountable because most of them have physical jobs.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll drop off your clothes later.”
“Are you just going to leave your clothes on my floor?” He motions to the pile on the ground.
“Can Mom wash them?” I smirk.
“Of course she can.” He rolls his eyes. “She’d probably still do all of your laundry if you asked her and it gave you an excuse to come home more often.”
“I'm going to try to make that happen,” I say softly and his brows raise. “I mean the coming home part. I don’t care about doing my own laundry.”
“Good. We all miss having you around here.”
Chapter 21
Charlie
Climbing into Wyatt’s truck, I begin combing out my hair and twisting it into a bun on the top of my head. I look like crap. My hair is a wild mess and my face is scrubbed clean. I feel weird going to work without any makeup on. I normally wear at least eyeliner and mascara.
“I look horrible,” I groan as I flip the mirrored visor up.
“You don’t look horrible. You look beautiful.” Wyatt peeks over at me before returning his attention back to the road.
“I'm sure,” I mumble under my breath as I turn my attention to my window. I watch the buildings and scenery whirl past us as we break every driving law imaginable.
Wyatt pulls into his parking space at the stadium a full ten minutes faster than it should’ve taken and we hop out of the truck.
