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“She called you a bunch of times. She got a call from her mom.”
“Shit?” He shot out of his seat, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “Is everything— fuck, my battery is dead. Where is she now?”
“At your place. I think her dad is sick, and her mom is worried.”
“I’ve got to go,” he said to no one in particular.
“Keep us updated,” Noah said, dragging Rory between his legs. “And if there’s anything we can do…”
“Thanks. Hopefully, it’s nothing too serious. She’ll be devastated if—”
“Go, be with your girl,” Connor said.
Aiden dipped his head before hightailing it out of there.
“Shit, I hope Dayna’s old man is okay.” Noah dropped his chin on Rory’s shoulder, sliding his hands under her baggy hoodie.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I said to no one in particular.
I needed to be away from Harper.
She hadn’t even looked at me, but it was only pissing me off, which was confusing as fuck because it was what I’d wanted.
I managed to work my way to the front of the line at the bar. Stu came straight over. “You good, Mase?”
It would have been easy to ask for something stronger. But we had another game tomorrow, and Coach had a two-beer-and-done rule.
“Just another Heineken, please.”
“This one’s on me,” a voice said from behind me, and I turned to find Coach Dixon standing there.
“Uh, hey, Coach.”
“Don’t look so alarmed, Mase.” He clapped me on the shoulder, taking the stool next to me.
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not used to the coaching staff showing up here.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He winked, putting his order in with Stu. “It’s only one for the road.”
Unease crept up my spine. Pretty sure there were rules on this kind of thing. Did Coach Tucker and Coach Walsh celebrate with us occasionally after a big win? Sure they did. But not in TPB, not like this.
“I just wanted to stop by and see if you’d had any thoughts about my offer. We need to move on this, Mason. Strike while the iron’s hot.”
“That’s really—”
“Dad.”
Coach Dixon went still beside me, sheer annoyance falling over his expression. “One piece of advice, son,” he muttered, “never have kids.” He gave me a thin smile as he turned to meet Harper’s worried gaze. “Harper.”
“W-what are you doing here?” Her eyes flicked to mine and back again.
She looked… fuck, she looked gorgeous. Black leggings and a tight black cropped sweater that revealed a slither of stomach. Her hair was braided over one shoulder, but some wavy wisps framed her face. It was really fucking difficult to remember why I couldn’t take her home with me and bury myself deep inside her.
Except reason number one was sitting right beside me, looking at his daughter like she was nothing more than an irritating noise in his ear.
“Dad…?” she pleaded when he didn’t answer.
“I’ll give the two of you some privacy,” I said, not wanting front-row seats to whatever father/daughter issues they clearly had going on.
