Page 24 of The Foul Out

I glared, only to find him staring right back, his eyes just as hard. He was waiting for me to cave. Waiting for me to admit he was right.

When I didn’t, the ass sank even lower. “Greyson and Sam got along well today. Grey goes to Little Fingers. I’m sure Sam will be thrilled when I tell him that if you accept my offer, he’ll get to play with his new buddy every day.” He spun in his seat,one hand planted on the back of my seat, like he was going to call out to my son.

Eyes practically bugged out, I smacked his arm. “You wouldn’t.”

He lifted one shoulder, nonchalant. “When I want something, I don’t play fair.”

“And here I was, almost believing you weren’t as terrible as your tantrum last night made you out to be,” I huffed.

He glared. “How am I terrible? I’m helping you.”

“No one asked you to,” I snapped back.

He opened his mouth but slammed it shut again. With a long breath through his nose, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he said, “Fill out the onboarding paperwork before Monday.”

“We’ll see.” Crossing my arms, I glared out the damn window, wishing I had a better option for day care. Because I’d rather cut my tongue out than admit that I needed Kyle Bosco’s help. And to think I’d almost let myself forget the cardinal rule.

Don’t ever trust a southern boy.

Cam: She hasn’t done the paperwork yet. But I’m almost to you.

Stubborn woman.Why was she so against sending her kids to Little Fingers? Dylan was incredible with kids. A little odd, but she knew her shit. They would be lucky to get to chill with her every day.

And Harper’s fucking comment.No one asked me to help?Bullshit. JJ asked me to help.

I slammed the beer down on the ledge in front of me.

She didn’t know that, of course. But that fact was neither here nor there. Why couldn’t she just be grateful that I’d solved her childcare issue?

“What’s got your panties in a knot?” Mason asked, his focus still fixed on the ice. The Bolts were up by one in the middle of the second period.

I took a pull of my beer and slammed it down again. “Nothing.”

The crowd cheered, pulling my attention back to the game just as Brooks Langfield, goalie for the Bolts, stopped another shot. “The guy is on fire.”

“I think he’s showing off for his new girlfriend.”

I tipped my chin up. “He’s dating someone in the front office, right? You two paint each other’s nails and chat about it?”

Mason turned my way, his lips tight. “Dick.” He shook his head and focused on the game again, but not before I caught a hint of a smile on his face.

I loved to tease him about the way he and Rory had snuck around for weeks.

“Mock me all you want,” he grumbled. “But while I’m snuggled up next to my girl every night, all you’ve got is cold sheets, your own hand, and Hannah on your back.”

I flipped him off.

“Did you piss Hannah off too?” Jasper Quinn asked as he dropped into the seat beside me. “Because she ripped me a new one earlier.”

“Stay out of the tabloids, and she’ll leave you alone,” Mason suggested, pointing at Jasper with the neck of his beer bottle.

“That shit lies.” The first baseman held up his own drink, hiding a smirk behind it.

“Right.” I kicked my feet up onto the ledge. “Sell that to someone who wasn’t there. You deserve all the wrath for?—”

He lurched forward and threw a hand out, but I dodged out of the way before he could touch my hair.

“Hands off.”

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