Page 38 of Her Hat Trick Daddies
Max scrunches his face, arms crossed over his chest. “Right. After all these years with the team, that’s the best you’ve got? I’m sixty, son. You ain’t fooling anyone with that excuse.”
Andy smirks but holds his ground. As he leads Max toward the showers, I rush out, desperate to look composed but absolutely dying inside.
I lock myself in the nearest restroom, gripping the sink so hard my knuckles go white. I stare down at the basin, chest heaving, trying to steady my breath.
What the actual fuck was I thinking?
Sleeping with the captain of the team was bad enough. But adding the right-wing forward too? Sure, I needed to confirm my suspicions about who fathered Luna, butthis? This was the dumbest way imaginable to go about it. I let my raging hormones and dusty bits take over.
I lift my gaze to my reflection and grunt out loud. My face is flushed, hair wild, eyes too bright.
Why am I such a goddamn moron? I could have just talked to them. You know, like a normal human. Not fucked my way through it without even saying a word about our one-night stand… or the little mini-me they left me with.
It’s a miracle no one wandered into that locker room. Even on the quietest days around that arena complex, there are always dozens of employees and staff milling about. Anyone could’ve stumbled upon us and demanded to know why such a large, frequently used room was locked. Anyone.
Because my afternoon schedule is mercifully clear, and I’ve got a game later this week that’ll eat up my evenings, I leave work early. I can’t talk to anyone about my poor choices right now. I need a solid hour or two to get my head on straight.
Ava has Luna until five, so I go home alone. I take a long, scalding shower, scrubbing off every trace of what happened with Andy, my eyes tracing each fingertip bruise and mark left on my skin. For all my recklessness, though, I’ve confirmed one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: Andy WebbisJester. Whether that revelation was worth the price of admission? Well… that remains to be seen.
I have to believe I can still fix this. Just because I’m drawn to both David and Andy doesn’t mean I’ve wrecked everything beyond repair.
At least, I hope not. I mean, they wanted it as badly as I did, right?
I throw on some shorts, a T-shirt, and running shoes and head out for a brisk walk through my neighborhood. I pass by Pocket Park over on Beeler Street, admiring the bursts of street art and the lush greenery. Trees arch overhead on both sides, and when I inhale deeply, the scent of freshly cut grass fills my lungs. It really is gorgeous here.
There’s something about getting outside, breathing fresh air, and losing myself in nature that helps me think more clearly.
No, none of my problems are magically solved. And yes, I’ve added layers of complication by having sex with two of the three men I desperately need to talk to. But still, the walk clears my head.
Feeling a bit more centered, I head over to pick up my precious baby girl.
“You’re early,” Ava greets when I arrive, and I catch sight of Luna playing on the plush carpet with her boys.
“I am,” I say with a soft smile. “Figured I’d take her off your hands.”
“Girl, please. You know she’s no trouble at all,” Ava assures me. Soon, Sven appears in the distance behind her, stretches out on the floor, and is instantly ambushed by a pack of toddlers, mine included.
Watching my daughter giggle and throw herself at him, her little hands tugging at his shirt, something tightens in my chest. My eyes blur with tears.
God, I’m so ashamed of myself. Not for the sex itself. Never. But because I’ve let the chemistry I have with these men distract me from telling them the truth. The thing that matters most.
“Leighton.” Ava’s voice hums with gentle sympathy as she steps outside, quietly closing the door behind her. “What happened?”
I can’t bring myself to spill every gritty detail, but I give her the gist of it—enough to paint the picture.
“So now that I’ve made a complete fool of myself,” I say, choking back another tear, “I still have to sit down and havethe talkwith David. And Andy. And… ugh, Shane too.”
“I get it,” she says, calm and steady, and I know she does. Ava’s had her own storm with Sven, Eric, and Levi.
“But listen,” she continues, “the best thing you can do now is be honest. Tell them the truth. If they’re good men, they’ll show up.”
“Iwantto believe they’re good men,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “But what if they want nothing to do with her?”
Ava reaches out, squeezing my hand.
“Then you’ll know you gave them the chance,” she says softly. “And honestly? That’s all any of us can do.”
Once I’m home with Lu-lu, I feed her dinner and we settle into our nightly ritual of singing nursery rhymes together before bed.
