is tough. Everyone does what they have to do to survive. Just do as Peter tells you, enjoy your new raise, and everything will be fine.”
“But—”
“Elle, you’re a woman. You blend in better. You’re beautiful and a great photographer—plus you understand the game inside and out. Who better to help the team?”
That wasn’t it.
That wasn’t it at all.
They could say that it was some sort of twisted football honeypot, but I wasn’t an idiot.
Peter had handled everything until this season. But something had changed.
They were afraid of getting discovered. And they needed someone who could take the blame in case the league found out.
Who better to take the fall than the only other person on the team with access to the photography equipment, office, players? Someone who had intricate knowledge of the league?
Christ, they’d probably frame me for the team’s blackmail photos too.
Jesus. What had they done to me?
It didn’t matter. This went beyond protecting the players now. I had to take care of myself.
And they’d forever regret fucking with me.
“Okay.” I forced a smile. “Just so we’re clear.”
“No problems here, Elle. You’re doing a great job.”
“Thank you.”
“And if you ever decide the married life isn’t for you…” He winked. “You don’t need an appointment to see me.”
Ew. He had all the tact of Lachlan but none of the charm.
I turned from the office, but I didn’t make it to the doorway. Adam’s next visitor shadowed the room.
Coach Thompson crossed his arms, glaring at me with a cold stare I thought he only reserved for Lachlan.
“Elle.” He growled my name. “Little far from the field, aren’t you?”
My stomach heaved. “Just heading there now, Coach.”
“Everything okay, Adam?”
Adam practically licked his lips as he stared at me. “Oh yeah. We’re fine.”
Coach Thompson leered, baring his teeth in a wolf’s smile. “Good. I’d hate to think we’d have any problems with our little Elle.”
“Nope. All good. See you out there, big guy.”
Big guy? I should have slapped him on the ass as I left too. That might have been more suave.
The bile surged again. I hurried from the office, skipping the exit to the field and ducking back into the safety of the women’s bathroom.
My new home away from home.
I heaved again but nothing else wanted to come up. That didn’t mean my scrappy little stomach didn’t try its damnedest.
I was totally and utterly screwed.
“Are you okay?”
I recognized Louisa’s voice.
Great. I flushed away the rest of my pride. No way the best trainer on the team would let me out of the bathroom without an interrogation about my health.
I retreated from the safety of the stall, flinching as the door swung and smacked my ass. Louisa awaited my response with crossed arms.
“I’m okay.” I splashed some water on my face and toweled it off. “It’s just stress. That’s all.”
“How far along are you?”
I crumpled the paper towel. “How far from where?”
“I mean, how many weeks?”
“Weeks from what?”
Louisa wasn’t amused, but I had no idea what I’d done. She tilted her head.
“How many weeks are you?” She drew the word out. “In the pregnancy?”
“In the preg—in the what?”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I am?”
“You’re not?”
My voice shrilled, echoing off the bathroom walls hard enough to smack me upside the head. “I’m not pregnant.”
Louisa laughed. “Are you kidding? You’ve been sick for three weeks.”
“So was half the team. We’ve got a cold.”
“No. They have a cold. You have a baby.” She counted off on her fingers. “You’re sick. You’re exhausted. Your breasts have swelled.”
“Thanks for noticing?”
“Is your period late?”
“No, my period is not…”
Uh-oh.
I whipped out my phone.
No, no, no.
I checked the date and did a bit of mental math in my head. “Okay, wait. This is ridiculous. I’m not…I can’t be…Lachlan and I haven’t really…”
I counted the days.
The river!
No way.
I gripped the sink. Louisa offered me a smile.
“I’ve seen it a lot lately,” she said. “All these new girls floating around the Rivets’ players. Girlfriends and wives. First Leah Carson. Then Piper Hawthorne. I mean...it’s an epidemic! I don’t know what it is about these football players. This team is just built to breed.”
She gestured for me to follow, though I had no idea how I willed my feet to move. I followed her to her office as she rifled in her desk for a stack of pregnancy tests.
“Just thought it was prudent to keep some around,” Louisa said. “No fertile woman is safe around this field. If it was my decision, I’d make the guys put on a condom under their cups.”
“This isn’t happening.”
“Go.” She sorted through stray