Page 26 of The Foul Out

Mason looked up from the document he was perusing, eyes wide. “You want to help with her kids? Aren’t you allergic to things like girlfriends and little people?”

I waved him off with a sigh. “I’m not helping personally. I just talked Dylan into finding places for them at Little Fingers.”

“Dude,” he said, his brows practically in his hairline. “Does Cortney know?”

I shrugged. “Seems like those two communicate well, so I’d assume.”

“Oh,” he snickered, hiding his mouth behind a fist. “You are so dead.”

My gut twisted at the warning. “Why?”

With a shake of his head, Mason went back to his papers.

Figuring it was best to leave that potential problem for later, I zeroed in on Cam again. “What’s the deal with the car?”

“She let me have it towed to the shop, but she called and told them to send the bill to her.” Cam dropped into the seat beside me and took a pull off his beer. “Apparently, they aren’t allowed to work on it unless she’s billed in full. She doesn’t care what we told them.”

Fuck. I ran a hand down my face. She was the most stubborn woman in the freaking world. “Where is this place? I’ll stop by tomorrow. Sign autographs, take pictures, get them thinking my way.”

“Two minutes ago, you didn’t want to pay for it,” Jasper piped in, “but now you’re going to make her let you?”

“Two minutes ago, it wasn’t a contest, Jazz,” Cam said as he slid his phone out of his pocket.

That wasn’t exactly true. I’d decided to pay for it before it was a contest. But I wasn’t arguing.

Cam tapped the screen, and a moment later, mine buzzed with what must be the repair shop’s info.

Jasper shook his head. “You’ve got to be the most competitive person ever.”

That was not the point. The issue here was that I wouldn’t allow Harper to boss me around. Her kids were going to Little Fingers. It made sense. And I would fix her damn car because I’m the one who put her in this situation. I’d fix it, but it’d be nice if she wouldn’t make every step so difficult.

“Hold up.” Mason raised a hand. “Is this real? Or a joke?” He held up the document he had laid out on his lap.

Cam shook his head. “It’s a complete coincidence, I swear.”

“What is?” I snagged the application from Mason’s hand and scanned the list of services needed. Typical ASD list. Private ABA, sensory-focused OT, RDI, CBT. Low income. Single-parent household. But both mom and dad had Boston addresses. “What’s the joke?” I asked, looking up at Mason.

“Piper Wallace?” He cocked a brow.

My breath stuttered as I scanned the page again. Oh shit. Harper had applied for assistance with Piper’s therapies. They were expensive, so it made sense. But if she needed the financial help, then why the fuck was she so stubborn about the repairs and childcare?

As I reread the list of needs, it hit me. There was no way we could choose Piper. If we did, it could easily turn into a disaster. “She’s not getting a grant, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Mason sighed and scratched at his jaw. “I don’t know?—”

“Veto.” I spit the word out quick. We’d long ago agreed that we each had the power to veto a single candidate for any reason. No questions asked. And I did not want to explain Piper’s connection to me.

The look on Mason’s face as he shook his head was pure disappointment.

“Kyle,” Cam warned, sitting forward and lacing his fingers together.

“I said I’ll take care of it.” I wasn’t refusing to help her. I just couldn’t offer her a grant.

The corners of Cam’s mouth turned down in disapproval, but he didn’t argue again. He knew why I was helping the Wallace family outside of the media issue, and he was fully on board with the idea. So the frown didn’t make sense.

Behind us, the door flew open and slammed against the wall, startling all four of us.

“What the hell, Streaks?” Cortney Miller stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. He was a huge, hulking, pissed-off presence. He might be the GM of the Revs these days, but not all that long ago, he’d been my teammate. As intimidating as he could be, I knew him well. I knew how compassionate and caring he could be, and hownotterrifying he really was.

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