“Would you fucking relax, brother?” Rafe rests his elbows on his knees as he sits on his chair in front of his locker, his pants and pads on, and his Langley jersey still hanging behind him. He’s always been that teammate. The one who’s laid-back pregame. He can control the temperature of a locker room.
If the team’s too in their heads?
Rafe will manage to get everyone up for a round of hacky sac like it’s 2001.
Too loud and antsy?
He’s got a way about him that just calms everyone the fuck down.
It’s impressive, but it’s also annoying as hell. Especially when you’re freaking the fuck out and he’s cool as a goddamned cucumber.
“How about I take that stick and shove it up your ass after I’m done taping mine, huh? How’s that sound?” Even to my own ears, it sounds a little dramatic. Not something most of my team would say about me. But fuck—it’s been a day.
“What’s going on, Logan? You seemed fine earlier. Did the reporters get to you?”
“They didn’t help,” I bitch. I was surprised with how quickly word spread about my marriage before they’ve even seen Olivia and me together. Invasive fucks.
I toss him my tape and grab my wax. “They all wanted to know if she’s pregnant. Like that’s the only reason I’d marry her.”
“You were rough on her last season. Of course that’s what they’re going to remember.” He starts the process of taping his blade, looking at it instead of me, thankfully. Because man, do I hate being reminded of what a dick I was last year.
I rub beeswax over the tape wrapped around my blade and groan. “I’d just feel better if she’d answer the damn phone.”
His head snaps up. “You worried something’s wrong? Did you call the ranch? Pops?”
“No. She’ll have my balls if I do that. I’m hoping she’s just sleeping. She looked exhausted this morning?—”
“Maybe try letting her sleep instead of fucking her so loud you wake the whole damn house.” I throw the wax at his head, and he catches it with a grin. “Thanks.” Dumb shit. “I was just saying she might not be so tired if you give her a break.”
“You know you’re an asshole, right?”
My brother grins as Coach walks into the locker room. “You say potato. I say vodka.”
“Okay, men. Time to get your heads on straight...”
OLIVIA
I love when people say be the bigger person...
Sorry, no. That won’t work for me.
I’m 5’3” and a bit of a bitch.
Don’t think I’ll be doing that.
—Olivia’s Secret Thoughts
Waverly stands on one side of me with Serena on the other as we follow Jasper into the New Jersey Nobles arena ahead of the game. No one says a word at first, not until?—
“Olivia... Is it true you and Logan Adler are married?”
And that was all it takes for the damn to break and the flood to rush in.
“Olivia—are you pregnant? Did your family force you and Adler to get married?
“Who’s the baby’s father?”
“Do I look pregnant?” I grunt at Serena, who squeezes my hand and tugs me forward.
