Stealing Home

Who was he to get all upset at me for making a good, honest call? I’d only been doing my job, and I’d do it again if I felt it was in his best interest to sit out a game. I didn’t care who he was or how he made me feel—my job came first. It had to. It was all I could count on at the end of the season, because I wasn’t sure Archer would still be there. I might have hoped he would be, but I wasn’t a total fool. A relationship as new as ours, as forbidden as ours . . . the probability of it enduring wasn’t on the promising end of the scale.

Since my thoughts had been a bit flustered, I paused to study the wrap I’d just finished on Reynolds’s ankle. “Is that too tight?” I asked, testing beneath the bandage with my finger to make sure I wasn’t cutting off the circulation to his foot.

“Nothing could ever be too tight, Doc.” Reynolds was no doubt grinning down at me with his brows in his hairline.

“You might change your mind if your toes fall off from lack of blood flow.” I tested the wrap on the other side to find it was okay. Reynolds’s toes would live to see another day.

It was a little after the game, and the Shock were dotted around the locker room, not making their usual post-game noises and chest bumps. The mood was somber, if not downright depressing. The sound of the showers and the squeak of locker hinges were about all of the noise spilling about the room.

Well, and of course Reynolds’s unending soliloquy of innuendos.

“While you’re down there, Doc . . .” Reynolds bobbed those raised brows when I looked up at him with a sigh.

“Watch your mouth, Reynolds.” A looming frame towered up behind me.

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The tone of his voice might have been unfamiliar, but the way my body responded when his came near was not.

Reynolds’s face creased. “Whoa. Ease up there, Archer.” He lifted his hands. “I meant no disrespect. Sorry.”

I pretended to still be busy testing the bandage to keep distracted.

“It’s not me you owe an apology to.”

Reynolds continued to study Archer like he was confused, which he had every right to be. Archer was known for being laid-back and easygoing. There was nothing laid-back or easygoing about his tone or words.

“Sorry, Doc,” Reynolds said as I stood. “I was just being my usual asshole self. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know you didn’t,” I enunciated slowly, more for the man behind me than the one in front of me. “Forget about it.”

Reynolds looked at Archer, his shrug reading we good?

“Watch your mouth. For once.” Archer passed me without a look, heading for the showers.

“Dude, I didn’t know Archer could be pissy. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“He’s not mad at you. He’s mad at me for telling Coach he should sit the game out.” I nudged Reynolds.

“Plus you’ve been icing the shit out of his balls, Doc. A man can only take so much of that torture.” Reynolds’s hand went to his crotch, like he was protecting his own balls from getting iced by me.

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Reynolds fired a salute before starting to tear out of his jersey while I moved onto the next player on my list.

After that, the locker room cleared out faster than normal. It probably had to do with the guys not being in the mood to celebrate. I was in one of the back rooms, restocking my bag with the supplies I’d run through during tonight’s game, when I heard a pair of cleats echo inside the room.

“You are still here, good. Should have figured.” Coach Beckett was still in his jersey and cleats. In fact, I wasn’t sure anyone had ever not seen him in his jersey and cleats, which had led to the rumor that the man slept in them.

“What can I do for you, Coach?” I asked, stuffing a few more rolls of athletic tape into my bag.

“I just wanted to say thanks for giving it to me straight earlier about Archer. I appreciate that. In fact, I need that. Too many of these people are just going to tell me whatever they think I want to hear, but I need someone who’s going to tell me what I need to hear.” Coach crossed his arms and tipped his head. “I hate losing a game, but what I hate more is losing a season. Good job tonight, Eden.” Before I could say anything, he turned to leave. “The team bus already headed out to the hotel, but there’ll be a car waiting for you and Archer when you’re ready to leave.”

My hands froze inside my bag. “Archer’s still here?”

“Yep. Just you two left.” His voice echoed as he moved through the locker room.

I waited inside the backroom for a few minutes, thinking. I wanted to talk to him, but I wasn’t sure if he felt the same.

Stalling for a few more minutes, I decided to go find him. I hadn’t gotten where I had by being timid and complacent. I wouldn’t approach whatever this was between Archer and me like that either.

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