Page 61 of Hard Hitter

Fear passed across his face, but he recovered quickly, yelling at my retreating back. “Ha! Joke’s on you. I told her that shit months ago.”

I chuckled as he muttered to himself about Eva’s sadistic vengeance streak.

* * *

Chloe wasn’tin the apartment when I got home. Theoretically for the best if I wanted to actually go out with her, but my dick disagreed. When I got out of the shower, I had two missed calls from the same unknown number.

I frowned down at my phone as I counted the times they’d called without leaving a message. Seven. Seven times since the article. I should mark the number as spam, but a nagging sense of unease kept my thumb hovering over the button instead of pushing it.

Shaw pounded on my door, his usual way to get my attention, then yelled, “Package for you, man.”

RJ snickered, and I rolled my eyes as Shaw made a joke about his package. I waited until I heard their door down the hall close to risk emerging. A few weeks ago, I’d mistimed it and gotten an eyeful of RJ’s boobs. Not an image I wanted in my brain for one of my teammates.

A large brown envelope with my name on it sat on the kitchen counter. I picked it up, frowning at the return address. Why would the athletic department send me something?

I tore the envelope open and shook out two sheets of paper. The first one I recognized—a piece of stationery with the athletic department’s letterhead. They politely asked me to refrain from having my mail sent to the main office. Weird.

The second was a sheet of lined notebook paper covered in a messy scrawl, with my name at the top. The page crumpled in my hands as I scanned it, until I got to the signature at the bottom. Micah Olsen—my father.

I hadn’t heard from him in fifteen years. Blood pounded in my ears, and I sank down onto the couch. My first reaction was to chuck it in the trash, maybe burn it. The thought reminded me of Chloe, so I forced myself to forego starting a fire in favor of actually reading the words.

He was out of prison, and he wanted to see me. Apparently, he’d found me through the damn article.

I stopped at the wordfound. He hadn’t known where I was? A little voice that sounded annoyingly like Craig whispered he hadn’t cared where I was, why would he keep tabs? I mentally junk-punched the voice and read the rest of the message.

He was in town, doing some part-time work at a car shop, and he’d stay around until I met with him or told him to get lost. A phone number was written across the bottom—one I recognized since it had been calling me on and off all semester. Guess that answered the question of whether it was spam.

Fuck. I ran a hand through my hair and considered blocking the number anyway. I had a plan for my life, and it didn’t include my asshole father showing up again after dumping me with his unwilling brother. I knew intellectually it hadn’t been his choice to go to prison, but it had been his choice to beat someone nearly to death.

It had been his choice to ignore my letters and emails. He clearly hadn’t wanted to be a father, so what had changed?

Did I really want to find out?

I sighed and stuffed the letter into the pocket of my jeans. Not right now, I didn’t. I wanted to take Chloe out for a date, then bring her back here and tease her with my tongue until she surrendered, soft and pliant.

Soft Chloe hit me every time. She worked so hard to convince the world she was tough and untouchable, but with me, she dropped her armor—and I didn’t want her anywhere near my father.

I still had fifteen minutes before I was supposed to pick her up, but I didn’t want to sit there stewing about all the ways that letter could fuck up my life. Shaw and RJ were busy in their room, and Mac hadn’t shown up yet, which meant he’d probably gone straight to Johnny’s.

Chloe would make a great distraction, especially since she wasn’t expecting me yet. Maybe I’d catch her naked. The thought was enough to get me moving.

The second I let myself into her apartment, my phone vibrated with a message. I checked the screen to see it was from Craig, not Chloe as I hoped.

I need you to make an appearance at the conference reception tonight.

A stupid part of me still held on to the hope he’d come to one of my games—or doanythingthat showed he cared, even a little bit. When I’d told him about the spring game, the same as every year, he’d said he’d be too busy at this medical conference.

Apparently, he was too busy for me, but I was supposed to drop everything and drive to Dallas. Typical.

This wasn’t the first time he’d trotted me out to impress one of his colleagues, but it might be the first time I was willing to go. I had questions about the letter from my dad, and short of calling the man I hadn’t seen in fifteen years, Craig was the only other person who could answer them.

Another message from Craig followed the first without me responding.Preston Hotel 7 p.m.

I’d worked my ass off to get Chloe to agree to a date. As much as I wanted those answers, Craig would have to wait. Chloe came first.

“Where are we going?” she asked from her bedroom doorway.

I looked up from my phone and completely lost my train of thought. She was wearing a dark green dress that made me reconsider my plan to leave the apartment. With a knowing grin, she spun in a circle, and I swallowed hard at the expanse of smooth skin exposed by the plunging back of her dress. Thin straps criss-crossed down to her waist with nothing in between.

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