Page 58 of Under Pressure

21

I frownat my phone and step off the elevator an hour after the game finished.

Quinn’s silence since her last text has me far more nervous than I should be. It’s not like she’s texting me often any other day. Usually, she’s ignoring my daily updates or replying with the most boring emojis ever. After the day I’ve had, I’d take the plain-Jane smiling emoji and be more than grateful.

Not only was the game terrible, but the attitude in the clubhouse was nasty. Even our team dad, Jett, was a moody bastard. I think witnessing him lose his cool the way he did tonight was the turning point for the rest of the team. Suddenly, the most level-headed guy on the team was kicking the wall of his locker and telling off Roman when he tried to calm him down, and nobody knew what to do with that.

For the first time in the five years Roman’s been our manager, today was the first time I’ve seen him rattled.

And in defense of my team, the umps were fucking blind today. When Wes has to challenge a call nearly every at-bat, there’s something wrong. Kamron wound up getting ejected late in the eighth inning after a heated argument about a check swing, and Roman was close to it in the ninth, too.

I might not have been playing, but I feel the loss all the same. This is my team—myfamily—and watching them struggle isn’t something I enjoy.

Pocketing my phone, I approach the door to my place and test the handle. I’m both relieved and cautious to find it locked. I input the code and step inside, giving the front a quick survey.

“Quinny?” I call, kicking off my shoes.

Her white Nikes are on the edge of the entry mat, and I let loose a breath of relief, tucking mine alongside them. I tug my hat off and run my fingers through my hair before slapping it back on and calling her name again.

This time, I’m greeted with a low warning bark from deep within the condo. I freeze for a beat, the sudden realization dawning on me that I hadn’t warned her about Bodi. Or Logan, who I have to assume was also here. Maybe still is.

Ah, fuck.

Bodi’s bark carries through the living room and grows louder when he appears. The golden fluffball I rescued two years ago makes my mouth split in a grin as I drop to a crouch. His attack mode gets disabled when he recognizes me and bounds into my body. I rock back onto my heels and dig my fingers into his neck, scratching his favourite spot.

“Please say you got her to forgive me for my total lack of consideration, buddy,” I mutter quietly. “We’ve got our work cut out for us here, and this isn’t gonna help.”

He licks my palm and tries to chew on my wrist, wanting to play. I snort and humour him while I look for Quinn. She didn’t come with him. My stomach floods with worry as Bodi continues to use my wrist as a chew toy. On the plus side, I don’t hear Logan, nor do I see her.

“You didn’t bite her wrists like this, did you?” I ask him, giving him a weak glare.

“No, he didn’t.”

My head snaps toward the sound of her voice. The sight ofher crossed arms and flat expression shouldn’t turn me on, but fuck me, it does. I swallow a groan as my cock twitches, excited by the thought of getting into a fight right now. It’s not the healthiest turn-on. I won’t deny that, nor am I going to complain about it.

“You didn’t text me back,” I say, playing it cool.

Her finger taps on her bicep. “I didn’t want to distract you.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“Oh, I disagree.” The bite in her voice has me battling a shiver.

“Why’s that, baby?”

She pauses, her mind working so quickly I almost interrupt her train of thought. I wisely keep my mouth shut, though. There’s a subtle twitch of her nose before she wets her lips and finally lets me have it.

“I know I’m only a guest here, but it would have been nice if you’d given me a heads-up. You’ve never once brought up having a dog, and then bam! What if I were allergic?”

“Areyou allergic?”

Her eyes flare, so hot I can almost feel the burn of them scorching my face. “That’s not the point.”

“Did you meet Logan?”

There’s a moment where I actually consider running away after I let the question slip. I’m such a dumb, risky bastard, but like hell I’m not going to poke at every available side of those walls she’s got around herself just to see if there’s a sliver of a crack in one.

And from the way her shoulders snap back and her cheeks go as red as the can of Coke on the coffee table behind her, I know I’ve found one.