Page 38 of Irresistibly Risky

I’ll admit I know nothing of Coach’s personal life. It’s none of my business, and as a player, it’s inconsequential to me doing my job.

But… the way he defended her just now and their dynamic every time I’ve seen them together, I knew there was something between them. I just didn’t assume…

I look back over at him, studying his face for the first time. His hair is lighter than hers, and I don’t catch any physical resemblance to Wynter except… his eyes. Coach has green eyes. Just like Wynter’s. Just like Mason’s.

Holy shit.

If it’s true, that would make Coach the biological grandfather of my child. Does he even know about him?

Somehow, I’m on my feet, and Coach’s head swivels in my direction, raising a “what the hell do you think you’re doing” eyebrow at me.

“Dr. Hathaway is here for my pre-op evaluation,” I mumble. His lips form into a thin line, clearly unhappy I interrupted whatever it is he’s yelling at everyone about, but he gives me a firm nod, and I walk away, moving across the field with quick strides.

Wynter is oblivious to everything as she laughs and chats with Dr. Horowitz, who is staring at her like she’s cream and he’s a cat. My teeth set on edge when he touches her shoulder, and if he doesn’t remove it from her body now, he’s about to lose a digit.

Funny, I never considered myself a jealous man, but I nearly had a heart attack yesterday when she was talking about bringing a hockey player home, and then Ace made that comment, and now this doctor is about to die because he’s pulling out his phone to get my woman’s digits.

This unbearable green-eyed monster seems to have taken up permanent residence within me where she’s concerned. She’s messing with my head and my life in every possible way, and instead of running for the hills, I only want more.

“Sorry, Dr. Flirts Too Much, you’ll have to get her digits when she’s available, which will likely be sometime around the next coming of Christ.”

I grab Wynter by the arm and spin her around, marching us toward the locker room without slowing my steps.

“Hey!” she barks, trying to extricate herself from me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? That was totally inappropriate. He works at the hospital with me.”

I grunt. “Yet another reason why he can’t have your digits.” I throw her a side-eye. “I warned you. I’m the ultimate cockblocker.”

“More like the ultimate caveman, only I’m not yours to club over the head and drag away to your cave.”

Wrong. The word blares through my head but thankfully stays put and doesn’t get me into even more trouble. “You’re here for me, Dr. Hathaway. No one else.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re my surgeon. My hot baby mama. If you think I’m going to let anyone else near you, you’re crazy.”

The lights in the trainers’ room flip on when we enter, and then I’m pulling off my shirt and hopping up on the table. Ready. Anxious for her to put her hands back on me. Only she’s standing by the door with her arms folded, eviscerating me with her eyes. Even as they smolder ever so slightly at me shirtless.

It’s a good look on her, I’ll admit. It certainly makes my dick hard, but then again, so does everything she does.

“This can’t happen.”

There she goes with that bullshit again. “Uh-huh. I know. You’ve already told me.” I just haven’t told you yet that I don’t care.

I’ve wanted her from the second I saw her in that bathroom, and I’ve wanted her ever since. I wanted her before I knew about Mason. When you meet the woman you consider to be the most beautiful you’ve ever seen and she just so happens to not take any of your shit, marrying her is your only option. But considering I’ve technically only known her less than a week, I’ll play by her rules while removing any man who tries to take what I already consider to be mine.

“Are we doing this or what?”

She cocks an eyebrow and then pushes away from the door. Grabbing the vitals cart, she wheels it over and slaps a blood pressure cuff on my arm, pressing the button on the screen for it to start inflating.

“Have you thought any more about my offer?” I ask, since she’s not talking to me now.

“Yes.”

I smirk. “And?” I press when she doesn’t follow that up.

“And I haven’t decided yet.”

Fine. I’ll let it ride for now. The monitor lights up with my blood pressure and heart rate, and then she sticks a probe on my finger while setting the earpiece of her stethoscope in her ears. The cold diaphragm hits my chest, and I make a noise.

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