Page 33 of Golden Goal

“Fuck.” I quickly set her in the pack and play in the living room before yanking off my shirt.

“Gross,” I mutter as I roll it into a ball. I really should use burp clothes the way Hadley does.

Once I’ve put on a clean shirt, I tidy up the kitchen and living room. Might as well do it while I have time. It’s definitely not because I need to distract myself from thinking about Rebecca driving with us to Hunter’s.

Absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to think about spending the day with my teammates. They’re like family to me, and I love them, but lately the last thing I want to do is see the concerned expressions on their faces whenever I walk into a room. It reminds me how much of a failure I am.

A failure of a friend, who hid his breakup for months.

A failure of a boyfriend, whose ex hid her pregnancy from him—didn’t even deem him worthy of knowing about it.

Their looks remind me I’m a single dad—emphasis on the single—because my daughter’s mother discarded me. Discarded both of us. I wish things could go back to the way they were before they knew the truth.

Glancing at the clock, I realize I’ve wasted an hour and need to get dressed, and get Hazel ready. As I bend down to pick her up, an unmistakable smell hits my nose. Just my luck. When I lift her up, I realize it’s even worse than I thought because she’s apparently had a blowout. I grab the blanket that’s hanging on the side of the pack and play and wrap her in it. She starts crying as I make my way into the bedroom.

“I know. You must be so uncomfortable. I’m sorry,” I murmur softly, trying to calm her down.

I set her on the changing table and unsnap her onesie, fighting the urge to gag as I reach for the wipes, making a mental note to buy a box of disposable gloves. I take her diaper off, and the smell that hits me makes my eyes water. Hazel cries louder.

I place one hand on her stomach to make sure she doesn’t squirm off the changing table as I turn toward the door and yell for my sister.

“What’s going— Oh shit, that’s awful,” Hadley says as she comes up next to me.

“Can you get me a garbage bag?” I bite back a gag.

“Yep.” She hurries out of the room as I clean Hazel up.

“I think we’re going to have a quick bath,” I tell my daughter.

Hadley comes back with the garbage bag and holds it out for me.

“Don’t yell at me, but I’m throwing out her clothes and the blanket.” I grimace.

With Hadley’s help, I get Hazel cleaned up and dressed. While Hadley entertains Hazel, I take a quick shower and throw on clean clothes.

“Are you sure we have to go? This isn’t even our holiday,” I say to Hadley a little while later as she helps me buckle Hazel into her car seat.

She laughs, a reusable shopping bag filled with who knows what slung over her shoulder. “Yes. It’ll be fun.” She heads toward the front door.

“And if it’s not?” I grumble under my breath before picking up the car seat, and the diaper bag that I packed with two extra outfits.

I’ve learned my lesson after the poop fiasco. With a sigh, I follow her into the hall, and she knocks on Rebecca’s door.

“Hiya,” Hadley greets her.

They chat quietly for a few seconds, and then Rebecca steps into the hallway behind my sister, and I forget how to breathe.

She’s beautiful.

Every time I see her, even when she’s dressed in scrubs or black slacks and a Storm polo, I think that, but there’s something different about the way she looks today. Her black jeans accentuate her curves in a way I’ve not seen before.

I give myself a mental shake. I can’t think about her like that.

She’s a coworker. My physical therapist. She’s off limits. Besides, I don’t want to date anyone, and even if I did, it couldn’t be her because things would be awkward when we broke up. Because she’d eventually realize she didn’t want me, the same way Kat did.

“Hi, Holt.”

Rebecca grins at me, tucking her hands into her pockets before bending down to peek at my daughter. I get a whiff of her perfume, the same floral smell as before, and I wish I knew what it was because it’s now my favorite flower.