Page 117 of Sin Bin Daddies
“Henry knows,” Madeline says, quiet.
My head jerks up. “Henry?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I told him earlier.”
Henry. Who is married to Logan.
Logan, who’s best friends with Daisy.
Daisy, who’s not just team royalty—niece of Coach Ace—but also married to three men on our roster.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
My blood starts buzzing.
This is a PR nightmare. A team scandal waiting to erupt.
And it’s not just Ford and Asher who’ll take the heat. Players mess all the time. But me… I’m the assistant coach.
The guy Ace just floated as his replacement.
Shit.
They’re still talking. Ford asks about baby names. Asher is looking at ultrasound images on his phone like they’re already printing them on nursery walls.
I just sit there, nodding slowly.
My mind is sprinting. In Spanish, in English, in the garbled chaos of someone watching his career flash before his eyes.
“Coño. Jodido. Esto no puede estar pasando.” I sip my beer only to give my hands something to do.
How are they so calm? Why am I the only one panicking?
Ford’s, like, ten years younger than me and still manages to grin like this is the best plot twist of the year.
Madeline watches me, trying to read me, but I keep my face still. If I react too much, I’ll lose it. There’s a strange hum under my skin now. Part fear, part anticipation.
“I’ve got a meeting early,” I say, my voice barely steady. “But I’ll come by after. Ultrasound, right?”
She nods. Something soft flickers in her eyes.
I reach for my keys, even though I don’t remember deciding to leave. Ford slaps my back like we’re celebrating as we both walk out.
Did I kiss her goodbye? Why aren’t we staying with her? I think about her talking about throwing up.Now I want to throw up.
Asher walks me to the door. He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a nod. When I finally make it back to my car, I sit for a full minute with the engine off.
The condoms are still in my pocket. The lube, too. This was supposed to be a celebration.
Instead, it’s a fucking spiral.
I drive in silence. No music. No distractions. Just the hum of the engine and the flicker of streetlights bleeding across the windshield as I make my way home. The city is quiet, sleeping.
Meanwhile, everything in me is wide awake and on fire.
