Page 24

24

STETSON

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been awoken by cold water to the face.

Turns out, it never got pleasant.

I shot up, coughing and sputtering as I tried to clear the ice water from my field of vision. My chest burned until my lungs remembered how to function. Once I could see, Barrett’s figure came into view. He stood in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and an empty glass in his hand.

“What the hell?” I choked.

“Get up. Shower. We’re leaving in fifteen.”

I groaned. “What time is it?” I was no stranger to being up before the sun, but something didn’t feel right.

“Time to get up and get in the shower. Now. You smell like a distillery.” With that, he left the room.

With my surroundings coming back to me, I noticed that Levi wasn’t in bed. A pounding headache slammed into my temples, coupled with broken memories of the night before. Right, that’s why I felt like I’d been hit by a truck: alcohol.

I really needed to stop drinking.

Hoping the shower would revive me, I trudged out of bed and into the bathroom. After I’d washed and brushed my teeth, I dressed in my gym gear and tiptoed into the kitchen. Barrett and Levi stood at the counter, having a hushed conversation that ceased the moment they noticed me.

Levi greeted me with a warm smile, which eased my nerves. Slightly. “Morning, little one. How you feeling?”

“Rough,” I admitted, bashful under the Daddy voice. His attitude was a complete one-eighty from Barrett’s. So vastly different that it was almost jarring.

Grinning, he walked over to me and handed over an electrolyte drink and a protein bar. “Eat this, and drink up.” With a soft kiss to my lips and Barrett’s cheek, he added, “I’ll see you two later.”

He grabbed his coffee from the island and skirted around me to the bedroom, leaving me alone with Barrett. Once again under his scrutinizing gaze, I fought the urge to squirm. I’d never seen that sort of stare from him. Not off the field anyway, and never directed toward me . His hazel eyes were dark, angry even. My head throbbed again, and I winced. “What are we doing?”

Instead of answering my question, he grabbed his keys from the counter and tossed me a bottle of painkillers. “Let’s go.”

Confused, but not daring enough to challenge him, I swallowed a couple pills, chasing them with the electrolyte drink as I followed him out the door.

He was silent on the drive, leaving me to my makeshift breakfast. “Where are we going?” I finally asked.

“You’ll see.” He nudged the bottle to my lips again. “Drink. You’ll need it.”

I obeyed, willing those painkillers to kick in fast. The clock on the dash read 5:52. I must have been awake for half an hour at that point. When the first bite of the protein bar churned my stomach, I threw the rest of it to the side.

Then it clicked: I’d acted out, and now I was facing the consequences. Only, I wasn’t sure why Levi had stayed behind. But the tension rolling off Barrett’s body let me know that he was Bad Cop today, so I sat back and waited. I let my eyes shut, only opening them again once the car stopped.

We were at the stadium.

The Thrashers and the Hellbenders had the best stats of the season. So while other teams battled it out for a spot in the playoffs, we were automatically through to the second round. Which meant we had a few days until the wildcards were chosen and the Division Series began.

“I thought we were going to the gym.”

“We’re not.”

I could typically run circles around Barrett, but my hangover left me struggling to keep up with his long strides. “How did you get access this early?” I asked as we pushed through the gate.

For the first time that morning, he smirked, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, Rookie; don’t you know a name can get you whatever you want?”

We emerged onto the field, and frost-covered grass crunched underfoot. I shivered. The sticky, humid air let me know that the day would quickly warm up, but even Atlanta fell victim to the early-morning autumn chill. The sun barely crept over the horizon, illuminating the stadium in a faint, golden light. I’d never seen the place so quiet. It was almost creepy.

Barrett’s voice cut through the silence as we walked across the field. “Do you have to use the bathroom?”

“What?”

“Answer me, Stetson.”

Skeptical, I did. “No, I’m good.”

Barrett came to a stop behind home plate. “All right. Laps. Let’s go.”

“How many?”

“Until I say ‘stop.’” Barrett stepped back and leaned against the fence, propping one foot up against the links. I chose to ignore how gorgeous he looked bathed in that warm light that seemed to highlight every aspect of his perfect body.

“Okay,” I agreed, stepping up to home plate. I ran five miles a day without breaking a sweat. Laps around a field? I could do that in my sleep. So what if Barrett wanted to be a bit sadistic? I could easily prove him wrong.

Five laps around the field was a little over a mile. Keeping at a light jog, the first passed effortlessly. Barrett stayed in his spot, watching me. Every time I risked a glance, our eyes met. He stayed silent, for the most part. When I closed on the second mile, my stomach lurched, slowing me around home plate.

“Keep going,” he commanded.

Not one to back down without a fight, I swallowed against the nausea and pushed through.

Despite wearing shorts and a tank, the thick, humid air quickly had me working up a sweat. Halfway through mile two, my clothes were drenched and sticking to my skin. I swore I could smell the vodka seeping out of my pores, which only made my stomach roil. Barrett watched with a smug grin on his face. I knew what he was doing. Or, trying to do. He wanted to teach me a lesson about getting drunk. If for no other reason than to prove him wrong, I kept going.

Mile three had my legs burning. Approaching four, my chest ached. That time when I hit home plate, my mouth started to water in the ominous way it did right before I started spewing my guts. I’d hit my limit. I slowed to a stop, clutching my midsection.

“Did I say you could stop?”

I shook my head, less in response to Barrett’s question and more as a warning. Still, he approached me. “What’s the matter? You’re Stetson Holloway, remember? You’re invincible. Keep running.”

“Can’t,” I strained.

Barrett moved in closer, his chest brushing my arm. “What was that?”

Bile rose in my throat. “I can’t.”

“Why? Because you spent the night getting wasted?”

My eyes burned, but I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Getting wasted,” I gagged.

Barrett laughed. “No, that’s not what you’re sorry for. You acted out so I’d notice you. You want my attention? You’ve got it!”

“Red.”

Vodka won. I vomited into the dirt at my feet, bracing myself with my hands on my knees. Instantly, Barrett’s demeanor shifted. He softened his tone, rubbing soothing circles over my back while I expelled the alcohol from my system. “It’s all right,” he whispered.

No, it wasn’t. Far from it. Hot tears fell down my cheeks, splattering to the ground. Once my stomach was empty, I fought to catch my breath.

Finally coming to my senses, I knocked Barrett’s hand away. “Leave me alone.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rookie.” I straightened, and he pointed toward the clubhouse. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and we’ll talk.”

I was drenched in sweat from head to toe, my headache had returned, and now I tasted vodka-flavored vomit. I wanted another shower, my Daddy, and my bed—in that order.

Fuck. I was never drinking again.

I followed Barrett into the clubhouse, relieved to see Levi sitting there. My eyes watered, and he wrapped an arm around me despite my protests. I was disgusting . With his other hand, he peeled my sweat-soaked hair away from my forehead. “You’re okay, little one,” he whispered. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Levi grabbed a bag at his feet and led me to the showers. After dropping the bag to the floor and setting the water to warm, I kicked out of my shoes and he undressed me. I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. Levi took notice and stripped himself down, nudging me into the shower stall. Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, and he guided me beneath the spray. The moment the hot water touched my skin, I broke. Sobs wracked my body and tears poured from my eyes. Levi’s arms only tightened around me, but not enough to prevent me from rotating and hiding my face in his chest.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I wailed. “I’m so sorry.”

Levi gently shushed me, combing through my wet hair. “I know, baby. I know.”

He seemed to know what I needed without me asking and held me as I cried, letting me get it all out. I flinched when he started to wash me, but he soothed me with gentle whispers and light brushes of his fingers along my spine. Eventually, I was able to pull myself together. My head cleared, and I realized my mistake. When I spoke, my voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I should have just talked to Barrett.”

Levi directed me to tip my head back so he could rinse my hair. “It’s never too late.”

“He hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. If you talk to him, I think you’ll learn that much.”

Once I was clean, Levi took his time drying me off. He reached into the duffel, pulling out a cozy-looking tracksuit. As he helped me into it, I let the feel of the soft fleece against my skin ground me even more. Georgia didn’t always get cold enough for such things but in that moment, it was exactly what I needed.

Socks next, then shoes. Another rummage through the bag produced my toothbrush and toothpaste. He’d truly thought of everything. “Go brush,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Barrett’s waiting for you with breakfast. Can you go out there and talk to him for me?”

I swallowed hard, throat sore. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good boy.”

And with another kiss, he was gone.