Happily Ever All-Star: A Secret Baby Romance - Sosie Frost Page 0,16

Dick.

I battered through his obscene rant with a sharp word. “I know it’s hard to hear, but I’m going to be fine. I can do this myself. I’ll be okay.”

The thunking from his side of the call wasn’t the phone. I imagined it was his head. His coach and teammates would love that bruise.

“Fine…” he said. “What can I do?”

“Don’t tell your mother.”

The swearing began anew. “And have her pissed at me too?”

“I’ll tell her…eventually.”

“How far along are you?”

I hissed a breath. “About sixteen weeks.”

“Christ, Rory! How did you keep this a secret for…”

He probably counted on his fingers. It took him a second, but his new raging profanities subjected parts of the body to physical maneuvers, which, as a medical professional, sounded absolutely impossible.

And as much as I loved to waste my lunch hour getting lectured by my step-brother, Eric was harmless.

I was not.

“Eric, I’ll call you later. I have a running back to castrate.”

It was time to push up my sleeves and lace up my sturdiest pair of boots to jam up Jude’s ass. If he knew what was good for him, he would have demanded a trade to the other side of the country. The Rivets were about to see some fireworks.

If not nukes.

Fortunately, my fellowship promised me entirely too much power over the Rivets’ organization. I was permitted to yank any player I damn well pleased off the field. Me and Jude had a date in the locker room, and I hoped for his sake, he was wearing pads.

But I didn’t make it onto the field. I crossed by coaches’ offices and flinched as someone called my name.

“Doctor Merriweather!”

Coach Thompson’s voice was the type that crawled over my skin. He couldn’t berate and insult me like he did his players on the field, but our conversations possessed a saccharine insincerity. He invited me into his office.

And my stomach twisted into a knot fit for a noose.

Coach Thomson settled into a chair that struggled to contain his girth. He gestured to the man joining him this afternoon—a fiend I knew all too well.

“Look who popped by,” Coach Thompson said. “Doctor Frolla, I think you remember our little Doctor Merriweather?”

Doctor Clayton Frolla, my chief of medicine and head of the league’s fellowship program, gave me a wicked smile. He’d hand-selected every candidate for the fellowship, personally assigning them to a team.

I knew exactly why he had given me this job. And It wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference—especially not now.

He might have possessed a certain charm, the confidence grey in his hair and money in his wallet afforded him. I begrudgingly accepted that he was a good doctor, deserving of becoming chief of medicine at a relatively young age. His eyes passed over me, twice, as if I wouldn’t notice his attention. He’d insisted a position would be open for me at his hospital. It remained to be seen whether it was behind a desk or bent over one.

“Doctor Merriweather, so good to see you again.” Clayton offered his hand. I should have smacked it away. “It’s been months since I’ve heard from you. I trust the fellowship is keeping you busy?”

I forced a smile, something cheerful, pleasant, and not at all baring teeth for a bite. “Absolutely. I’m thrilled to be a part of the Rivets this season.”

“Good—then the team is in excellent hands. I made the right decision with you.”

And I made all the wrong ones.

Coach Thompson nodded. “She’s already hard at work. Doctor Merriweather took special care of the newest member of the team.”

“Oh?” Clayton asked. “What sort of care?”

Coach Thompson’s tone flattened. “A basic assessment. I thought it’d be quicker, but eventually we had Jude Owens cleared to play.”

He said nothing else. I didn’t like the implication, but maybe hormones and Jude’s name set me on edge. “I…wanted to be thorough, given his previous injuries.”

“Of course…” The coach nodded to Clayton. “But we have a lot of men on this team. No need to waste all our time on one player.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I prefer to err on the side of caution when it comes to a player’s health.”

“And we’d prefer no errors at all, especially on a man fit to play.”

Clayton nodded, folding his arms. “We wouldn’t want to go looking for any trouble, would we?”

No. I had plenty of trouble at the moment. “I was just protecting the player.”

“My suggestion is to assess the situation, determine your appropriate response, and don’t go hunting for anything more.” Clayton smiled. It wasn’t