Page 43 of Her Hat Trick Daddies

“Dude?” I stare at Andy, stunned. That tips me over the edge, my inner frat boy making a brief appearance despite my best efforts. “Really?”

“I didn’t plan for it to happen,” Andy says, almost shamelessly. “It just did. I can’t explain it… right space, right mood, I guess.”

David clears his throat, his voice low but steady. “Look, what they’re trying to say is… we all felt it, Leighton. That night wasn’t just some one-off hookup. Maybe it started as a fantasy, but it turned into something real—something none of us forgot. And maybe now it’s time we get to know each other without the masks. No pretending. Just us.”

“I think I’d like that,” she says.

“So, this might sound strange, but I’m curious. Tell us about your friend. The one you were with that night,” David asks.

“You might know her.” Her blush softens into something warmer. “Ava Sterling. She used to be the team’s massage therapist. We’ve been best friends since we were kids in Jersey.”

Andy perks up. “Ava? Yeah, I remember her. She was our masseuse for a short stint. She was great. Left the team to have a baby, right? Sven’s.”

“She did,” Leighton nods. “Her son, Trevor, is my godson. And since we’re sharing secrets thatcannotleave this room…”

She gives each of us a serious look. We nod. We’ve all got things to lose, and we’d never burn each other like that.

“What isn’t known is that… she’s also in a relationship with Eric Schwartz and Levi Corolla.”

My brain stalls for a second. “Wait. What?”

She nods.

I sit with that for a beat. Ava? With three men? One a former captain, the other two still active on the team? It’s not just surprising; it reshapes how I see the world we’ve all been quietly orbiting.

I glance at Leighton again.

Of course, it tracks. She’s never flinched at intimacy that doesn’t follow convention. She hasn’t once made it feel strange or shameful, the way the three of us seem to keep getting pulled into her gravity.

And suddenly, I wonder if what we have isn’t some weird exception or impulse. Maybe it’s not just a one-time thing we’ve been chasing. Maybe it’s not a fluke at all.

Maybe it’s real. Something that makes sense in a way we’ve never let ourselves say out loud.

A buzz breaks through my thoughts. David’s missing phone lights up on the edge of the dais. I grab it, glancing at the screen before handing it to him.

“Cecille’s texting you.”

David waves it off, sliding the phone into his pocket. “I’ll check it later.”

But thenmyphone vibrates. And Andy’s. And again, David’s.

The message is from Cecille.

Cecille:Team, I don’t want to alarm anyone, but there’s been a pileup on I-70. Strisik and Panabaker were involved and have been taken to Denver Health by ambulance. That’s all I know right now. Please don’t speak to anyone about this.

David, Andy, and I move as one, heading for the door.

“What’s going on?” Leighton asks, confused.

I pause, showing her my phone.

She reads it. “Oh no…”

“We’re going to check on them,” I say, turning to go—but before I can take a full step, her hand closes around my arm, stopping me cold.

“Wait. I still need to tell you guys something. It’s important.”

David, looking over his shoulder, asks, “Is it life or death?”