Page 72 of Hat Trick Daddies

The twins exchange a look, their expressions softening.

“Yeah,” Nick says after a moment. “We’ve been thinking about her too.”

Tyler leans back, crossing his arms. “It’s weird, though, right? Like, how do we check in without making it…weird?”

I shrug, the knot in my chest tightening. “I don’t know. But I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

Nick nods, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. She’s been quiet. That’s not like her.”

Tyler frowns. “She’s probably just sick, but still…I get it. It’s hard not to worry.”

The weight of their agreement solidifies my decision. “I’ll check on her after practice tomorrow,” I say firmly.

“Good,” Nick says. “Let us know what’s going on.”

Tyler leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you think she’ll even want company, though? I mean, what if she’s just trying to ride it out on her own?”

I shake my head. “Maybe. But I’d rather risk annoying her than sitting here wondering if she’s okay.”

Nick gives a slow nod. “Makes sense. Besides, the first game’s coming up. It’d be good to know she’ll be there cheering us on.”

“That’s what I’m thinking,” I say, my voice quieter now. “It’s not just about the game, though. I just…I need to see her.”

The twins exchange another glance, this one more loaded with meaning.

“We get it,” Tyler says, his tone unusually serious. “Just don’t forget to tell us what’s going on, okay?”

I nod, appreciating their support even if they don’t say it outright.

The rest of the night passes in snippets of conversation about practice, the upcoming season, and random jokes that ease some of the tension in the room. But even as we talk, my mind keeps circling back to Ally.

When I finally head to bed, the decision to check on her feels like the only thing keeping me sane.

The next day, the drive to Ally’s place feels longer than it should. The rumble of the engine fills the cab of my truck, but it does little to drown out my thoughts.

What am I doing?

Part of me wonders if I’m overstepping, if showing up unannounced is the right move. But the other part, the bigger part, can’t shake the image of her sick and alone.

My thoughts drift, unbidden, to feelings I haven’t let myself acknowledge. Ally makes me feel things I haven’t felt since my ex-wife. But where my marriage had grown stale and fractured, Ally feels like the opposite, new, vibrant, and full of possibility.

That scares the hell out of me.

What if I’m setting myself up for another heartbreak? What if I’m misreading everything, and this thing with Ally is just…fun for her?

The questions churn in my mind, my heart racing as her street comes into view. I slow down, scanning the house numbers until I spot her apartment.

I pull into the driveway and shift into park, my fingers lingering on the key before I turn off the engine. My heart pounds as I sit there, staring at her front door.

Whatever happens next, I know there’s no turning back.

I climb out of my truck, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across Ally’s quiet street. Her house looks just like it always does, small, cozy, and inviting. But something feels off.

Walking up the path, my boots crunch softly against the gravel. I knock firmly on the front door, my voice steady but tinged with worry as I call out, “Ally? It’s me, Brooks. Are you in there?”

No answer.

I lean in closer to the door, listening for any sound from inside. “Ally, come on. You okay?” My knuckles rap harder against the wood, but the only response is silence.

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