Page 7 of Phantom Faceoff (Daddies of the League #5)

Chapter Seven

Zander

The world comes into focus littered with little black spots. I turn my head to clear dream from reality and—yup—vomit rises in my throat as my vision swims.

“Welcome back, sunshine.”

I know that sarcastic deadpan anywhere.

“Tess,” I groan, keeping my eyes firmly sealed shut. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She hums, the sound a little more animated, and something cool and wet touches my forehead.

“Got into town last night. Micky invited me over. Asked me to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit while he’s in class.”

Oof. That tracks.

My memory isn’t entirely shot, but because of the pounding pain in my head I can only really access snapshots and audio tidbits. Once I get the hangover under control, the rest should come back to me.

“I’ve got some migraine relief and the mother-load of water waiting for you once you feel up for it.”

I press down on the rag draped over my eyes. “I’ll take it now and get it over with.”

Tessa helps me prop up on a couple of pillows, and with my eyes still avoiding the light, she hands me some pills that I promptly down with the entire glass of water.

“Fuck me,” I grumble and pull the covers up over my face.

I need to sleep this damn shit off.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

C’mon, Tess.

“Do I? I’m sure the pancake monster dreams were a joy to hear about.”

Another hum, this one more melodic. “No pancake monsters as far as I’m aware.”

Why does she have to sound so entertained?

“If you’re going to accuse me of something, I’d like to point out that I was too drunk for anything I said or did to be incriminating. I was quite literally out of my mind.”

The bed dips beside me, the blanket gets pulled away, and Tessa’s fingers card through my hair.

“It sounds like drunk you might be a little kinky.” Her voice is light and playful, but it immediately triggers a memory of last night.

Malachi’s hard, gray stare and how it set a kaleidoscope of butterflies free in my stomach.

I asked if I could call him Daddy.

I yank the comforter back above my head, and Tessa’s bright laugh fills the room.

“Oh, you sweet, goofy, airhead.”

I blindly smack my hand out from beneath the covers, but that only makes the laughter worse.

“How about I run down to the kitchen and find something you can stomach? Let you marinate in your misery?”

I would glare if I didn’t think it would make me puke.

Left to my own devices, every embarrassing detail of the previous night comes back to me, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to live it down.

Julian is going to be pissed I let it slip that I know about their little joke. Blanchard is going to have ammunition on me for as long as Julian and I are hooking up.

He’ll be insufferable.

When my head clears enough that I feel I can look at my phone and not lose all the acid in my stomach, I feel for it under my pillow and turn the brightness all the way down.

A few messages from Ellis and Asher. A very threatening “shut up and get well” from Micky.

It’s Julian’s name that makes me smile, even if it irritates my headache.

Julian

Mal told me you aren’t feeling well. Take it easy. Maybe if you’re up for it, I’ll stop by after class.

Me

Do I get a magic, feel better kiss?

Julian

Look who’s alive! Idk. Depends on if you’ve been acquainted with a toothbrush.

Me

I’m not contagious. And I’ll empty a whole tube of toothpaste and a pack of gum if it gets me your company.

Julian

Classy. We’ll see. You might have to settle for some cuddles.

Me

Sounds perfect. It’s a date.

“You look like shit,” Micky says when he comes back to the room a couple of hours later.

Tess and I are sitting on my bed, scrolling through TikTok, and I give him my best deadpan expression.

“You left me to the wolves.”

Micky chuckles and throws his bag down by his desk. “That wolf knows more about hangovers than any college student known to man.”

“When you’ve got three musicians crammed into a camper van, you learn to deal with the post-show booze fest,” Tessa quips.

Ah, yes. Band Manager Tess. Don’t ask me how she managed to fall into the roll of babysitting an indie punk band playing dive bars around the country, but she’s made it her personal mission to “keep them on the right track.”

It’s fitting, I suppose. She gives off major Mama Bear vibes.

“Well thank you for saving me from a day of living in a bathroom full of jocks with no aim.”

Tessa laughs and taps her phone on her thigh. “I needed a break from Haven and the boys anyway.” She says it lightly, but there’s an obvious tension in her smile. “What I need now is for my favorite boy to get his ass over here and give me a hug.”

She opens her arms wide and smacks me in the face accidentally on purpose, and the next thing I know, the three of us are huddled on the bed as a full blown tangle of limbs. Micky and Tessa’s arms are around each other, but both of their legs are a mix of on top of and under mine.

“I missed your face,” she says. “What are the chances we can convince Parker to drive up?”

The smile on Micky’s face falls, and he lays his head on her shoulder. “He can’t. Coach Taylor is riding him hard.”

From what I’ve gleamed sharing a room with him, the boyfriend is on the football team over at Tennessee U, and their coach is a total hard-ass.

“I’m sorry, sweets,” Tessa says, resting her cheek on the top of Micky’s head. “Do you want to road trip down to him?”

He groans, and I pinch his thigh just to earn a swat. “No. I don’t want to bother him.” He grumbles and presses his face into her neck like a child.

“We could have a party?” I suggest. “Like get some of the guys together and play Truth or Dare or some shit. Could plan it for a day he could make it up this weekend?”

“At the end of the week, he’s too tired to make that long of a drive. It’s fine. We’ve each planned a trip when our breaks hit. I’m just mopey.”

“That you are,” Tessa says, patting his shoulder. “But Zandy is right. We should have a good, old-fashioned, high school-level maturity party.”

Micky snorts and ducks out of Tess’ hold, moving to a free spot beside her on the bed. “Hale just wants to get a certain someone buzzed and in his bed.”

I know he means Julian, but Malachi’s face is what pops up in my mind. The way he looked at me all soft and gentle—such a juxtaposition to his usual jagged edges.

I’m just curious because he’s definitely off limits.

Tessa’s smile turns devious, and I know it’s going to be a long couple of days keeping her from giving me away.

I don’t even know why I found the “Daddy” thing appealing. Julian said it, and for some reason it got stuck in my head like a bad record. Which made me think of record shop, which brought my thoughts all the way back around to Malachi.

He kinda seemed into it . But I was honestly too shit-faced for my memory to be reliable. Every little indication that he maybe doesn’t hate my guts could be entirely in my head.

That doesn’t mean I won’t be asking Julian over, or subtly suggesting he drag Malachi along.

Not at all.