The Daddy Series: Books 1 - 4 (The Daddy Series Boxset)

by B. B. Hamel

  My whole world goes dead. I picture all the possibilities. Some people might be okay, some people might flip. If it’s Atlas, I’m finished. So is Leah, most likely.

  I slowly turn around. I feel like my legs are lead, but I have to face what’s coming.

  Sean stands in the doorway. He’s grinning a little bashfully.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” he says stupidly. “Uh, Leah, I just wanted some of that tape.”

  “Oh, shit.” She practically runs over to the supply closet and grabs him a roll. “Sorry. I totally forgot.”

  “No problem.” He takes the athletic tape from her and nods at me, still grinning. “Coach.”

  He leaves the room. I realize I never said anything.

  I stand there, stunned. Leah looks at me, hands clenched.

  “It’s okay,” she says softly. “It’s going to be okay. Sean’s a good person. I can… I’ll talk to him. It’ll be okay.”

  I look at her slowly. I think all the color’s drained from my face. I feel horror, pure horror.

  I’m so fucking stupid. I’ve put everything at risk, and not just myself. Leah could lose her job, too. If that had been Atlas…

  He could crush her. She’d never work again. He could ruin her life.

  All because I’m selfish and think I should be happy on top of successful.

  She’s probably right. I bet Sean will listen to her. But it doesn’t matter.

  That could’ve been Atlas, or someone less understanding. That could’ve been so much worse.

  I’m being such a selfish bastard, and in this moment, I hate myself. I never have before, not even when I broke my leg and ruined my career. I never sunk to these depths before.

  But thinking about hurting Leah, I despise myself. I’ve become weak, pathetic.

  “I’m sorry,” I manage to say before leaving the room.

  “Cole, wait,” she says, but I don’t turn back. I walk as fast as my aching leg will take me, and I don’t let myself hesitate.

  No more weakness. I can’t afford it anymore.

  17

  Leah

  The look on Cole’s face told me everything I needed to know.

  The next day, I show up for practice like normal. I go through my normal routine, I help the guys I normally help, I do my job.

  I don’t run into Cole. He doesn’t seek me out.

  Although I do see Sean. He grins at me, winks a little bit.

  Later, in the training room between sessions, I pull Sean away from the other guys. I make some excuse about checking his ankle.

  “How’s it feeling?” I ask as I manipulate it.

  “Not bad,” he says.

  “Imaging came back clean, so there’s no break, just some swelling.”

  “I’ll be good to go by the weekend.”

  I nod. “I think so. Just don’t practice for a few days.”

  “Understood.” He grins at me. “So, uh. I’m guessing you didn’t pull me away just to talk about my ankle.”

  I grin bashfully at him. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Yep.”

  “Look, what you saw—”

  He holds up a hand. “Let me stop you there. I didn’t see anything.”

  I frown. “But, Cole and I—”

  “I didn’t see anything,” he repeats. “And if I did, I assume it’s a consensual thing, and not because he’s your boss?” He raises an eyebrow quizzically.

  I nod once. “Right.”

  “Okay.” He looks relieved. “I didn’t think Coach was that kind of man, but…” He sighs, shakes his head. “Anyway, I didn’t see anything. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  I sigh with relief. I don’t think Sean has any clue how much that means to me. “Thanks,” I say. “Really. That’s amazing.”

  “No problem.” He grins again. “I thought I saw Coach looking at you yesterday, but I just figured…” He shrugs. “Whatever. Not my business.”

  “You want to ask about it, don’t you?”

  He hesitates, but nods.

  “Go ahead.”

  “How long?”

  “Since preseason. Almost since this all started.”

  “Huh.” He shakes his head. “Good for him.”

  “Good for me, too.” I grin at the big football player.

  “I get needing to keep it a secret. There are people in this business that wouldn’t be too happy about… you know. Coaches and staff having relations.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Right. So I didn’t see a thing. Just make sure you’re happy, and if you ever need anything…” He trails off again. “You know what I mean.”

  “Thanks, Sean.”

  “Sure.”

  I gesture with my head. “Come on. Let’s get back.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  “And seriously, go easy on the ankle.”

  He grins and salutes me. “Yes, sir.”

  We head back into the main room where Tessa takes over poking and prodding at Sean while he tells her that he’s totally fine and I already cleared him. Not that Tessa gives a crap.

  I drift between players, doing what I can. During the second session, I keep trying to meet Cole’s eye, but he never looks in my direction. It’s like he’s the opposite magnet, and all I do is repel him.

  I know what he’s doing. He’s afraid of what Sean might say, but it’s fine. It’s totally fine. I can just tell him what Sean said and things can be okay.

  After the session, I go back to work, taping ankles and mending minor cuts. When five rolls around, the place starts to clear out, and I’m left alone again, folding towels.

  I wait almost two hours. At seven, I walk down to his office, reasonably sure nobody’s going to be around to notice me.

  But he’s not there. It’s empty.

  “Shit,” I say softly to myself.

  I go home.

  I come back the next day.

  I go through it all again.

  Day after day, I come to work, I do my job, and I hope that he’ll talk to me.

  Day after day, I’m disappointed.

  I don’t know what to do. He’s incredibly good at avoiding me. There’s never a moment where we’re alone, and there’s never a chance for me to approach him in his office without someone sitting in there with him. All I want to do is tell him that we’re fine, but he keeps avoiding me.

  I can tell his leg is bothering him. I can see the strain on his face.

  He does a good job keeping it from his gait. His limp is barely noticeable, if there at all.

  But I know he’s hurting. Unless he got someone else on the training staff to take a look at him, which I really doubt, he’s just powering through right now.

  And I hate it. I hate that he’s in pain because of this. I wish he’d let me help him, even if that means we can’t be anything more than colleagues.

  That would be hard, but I could handle it. I could take that truth.

  This thing, though, him ignoring me completely, that’s way harder. I don’t even know how he’s handling it, when every day I’m pretty much a mess.

  Friday rolls around, and I decide to come in early. I march right to his office, not thinking much about it. Nobody else is around yet, but I wouldn’t care even if they were.

  Cole’s sitting behind his desk when I open his door. He looks surprised to see me.

  “Can I help you?” he asks.

  I glare at him. “Cut the crap.”

  That makes him hesitate. “Sorry, but if you don’t need something work-related, I think I need to get back to this.” He gestures at his computer.

  “Cole.” I step into his office, shut the door behind me. “I spoke with Sean. He said he doesn’t care, that our secret is safe with him.”

  He nods once. “Okay. Thank you.”

  I stare at him. I don’t know how he’s doing this. It’s breaking my heart, having him talk to me like I’m some useless employee or something. He has his coach mask on right now, and I can’t see
m to get past it.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I say softly. “At least let me look at your leg. I could massage it for you. I know you’re hurting.”

  “No,” he says quickly. Almost too quickly. “I’m fine. Please, I have more work to do.” He looks away.

  I stand there, staring at him. I want to scream. I want to hit him. Snap out of it, you asshole! He doesn’t have to do this right now.

  I’m pissed. I’m upset. I feel like an idiot.

  I turn and leave his office, and I feel something inside of me start to crumble away into dust.

  18

  Cole

  Two games pass.

  We lose them both.

  The first one isn’t even close. We get blown out by Seattle, completely wrecked. It’s the first big loss I’ve experienced in a long time, and it fucking doesn’t feel good.

  The second one is closer. We get within inches, literally inches, but Chicago manages to hold us out of the end zone. They get the ball back and run out the clock.

  I stand there on the sideline, devastated.

  It’s not hard to see what happened. I think Sean knows it, or maybe I’m imagining that. Maybe I’m just imagining the looks he’s giving me, the glares, the angry stares.

  Maybe he doesn’t blame me for letting myself get distracted. Maybe he thinks it’s fine if I’m fucking one of my own staff.

  It’s not fine. It just isn’t. I can’t let myself…

  I know what happened, and I know I have to face the facts eventually.

  Even without her, I’m still with her. She’s always on my mind, every day, every hour. It was the hardest thing in the world for me to treat her like she’s nothing when she finally stormed into my office that Friday morning.

  I kept it together. I pushed her away.

  It hurt like fucking hell.

  I’m still aching from it. I was aching that weekend when we got wrecked, and I was aching the next weekend when we lost again. I’m a mess, thinking about her all the time, internally begging to see her again.

  But I won’t let myself. I can’t let myself.

  I hate it. I’m so fucking pathetic.

  But I know why we lost.

  It’s because I can’t stop thinking about Leah. No matter what I do, I keep thinking of her.

  I consider firing her. Maybe if she’s gone, no longer on the team at all, maybe that would help.

  But I can’t do it. I’d hate myself if I fired her. She needs this job, hell, she loves this job. It’s important to her.

  I can’t take that away.

  I can’t be a total fucking monster.

  So I have to live with this. I have to find a way to accept that we aren’t together, that we aren’t ever going to be together. I have to find a way to move on.

  I just can’t.

  Every day, it eats at me. I expect it to start to dull, to get easier, but it doesn’t.

  I’m so fucking pathetic.

  I know I have to do something. I keep going back and forth about it. I consider stepping down. I consider asking Atlas to find me a new team.

  In the end, I know there’s no good solution. But only one course of action seems to make any sense to me at all.

  It’s the one course of action I really, really don’t want to take. But I need to do it.

  Not just for myself. But for Leah as well.

  I wait another few days. By Thursday, though, I can’t handle it anymore.

  I find Atlas sitting in one of the tape rooms, watching a replay of the last game.

  His feet are kicked up on a chair, a cigar pinched between his teeth. He has a whisky glass on the table, empty except for some ice.

  I knock on the door. “Atlas?”

  He looks up. “Ah, Coach. Come in.”

  I step into the room. It’s dark when I shut the door. Just the game playing on the big screen in silence, evidence of my failure.

  “Glad you’re here,” he says. “I’ve been studying this. I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “Sure,” I say, even though I make it a point to avoid his questions. “But I actually hoped I could talk to you first.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Sure thing.” He pauses the game, motions at a chair. “Take a seat.”

  I sit, even though I’d rather stand. “It’s about… well, I don’t know how to say this.”

  “It’s about why we lost, isn’t it?”

  I nod slowly. “It is.”

  “And you’re ashamed of it?”

  I narrow my eyes. “Something like that.”

  “Okay then. Out with it.”

  I stare at the younger man for a moment. He seems so strange to me, but I have to remember that he’s a self-made billionaire. He didn’t inherit his money. He has talents that I haven’t quite seen yet.

  “I’ve been seeing Leah Reed,” I say.

  He stares at me. Surprise doesn’t register.

  “The trainer,” I prompt him softly.

  He sighs. “I know who you mean. I’m just processing this information.”

  I nod and look away. “I know it’s inappropriate for me to be seeing an employee. I understand this is a violation. I know you’ll do what you have to do.”

  He’s silent. He puffs on his cigar and stares at me. I think he’d drink more whisky if he had some.

  Finally, he sighs. “So I guess that’s why she decided not to go out with me.”

  I hesitate and shrug. “I guess so.”

  “Why didn’t you speak up before?”

  “I… didn’t think I could.”

  He waves the cigar at me. “Frankly, Cole, you should’ve realized I wouldn’t give a shit. I mean, I was trying to date her myself.”

  I frown. “You don’t care?”

  “Of course I don’t care. I was trying to date her myself.”

  “You don’t work for the team, though.”

  “I own the damn team. It’s even worse for me to be with her than you.” He sighs, shakes his head. “I just don’t care about that.”

  “You honestly don’t mind if I see her?”

  I can see cracks in the roof. I feel like light is starting to shine down on me, but I don’t let myself get excited.

  “Not unless it’s going to distract you,” he says softly, arching an eyebrow. “Is it?”

  “Not any more than I already am,” I admit. “And we were winning before.”

  He snorts. “I guess things aren’t good between you two.”

  “Sean caught us. I figured it was time to stop, but…”

  “But you don’t want to stop.”

  “Not at all.”

  He shrugs. “Then don’t. Sean will keep his mouth shut.”

  “I can’t believe you’re taking this so well.”

  “Believe it.” He leans toward me. “Listen, Cole. I don’t give a fuck who you sleep with, so long as you’re winning. If fucking Leah’s going to help you win, then you better start fucking her again.”

  I wince a little at the vulgarity of what he’s saying, but he’s right. I mean, about fucking Leah.

  I need to start doing that again. Fucking hell, I really need it.

  “Okay,” I manage to say. “I mean… okay.”

  “So go for her, you idiot. If you like her, and she likes you, what’s the harm?”

  “Okay.” I feel so stupid. It was this simple from the start.

  Well, not exactly. Just because Atlas says I can go for it, doesn’t mean it’s an appropriate thing. I still have to hide it from the league.

  But with Atlas’s permission, it’ll be easier. He can protect us, keep the league off our backs…

  “Well? Go fucking talk to her.” Atlas waves me away.

  “Thanks,” I manage to say, standing up.

  “Oh, and Cole? If we ever lose again like we did to Seattle, I’m going to fire you.”

  He’s not laughing.

  I don’t laugh either.

  “We won’t.”

  “Good man.
See you later.”

  I nod and leave the room.

  Atlas Gage is a weird guy. A very weird guy.

  But I respect him. He wants to win, and he’ll do whatever has to be done.

  I can feel the light now, though. I can feel it streaming in and washing over me. I walk down the hall, feeling hopeful for the first time since all this started.

  My heart’s beating so fast, it’s in my throat.

  I can’t wait to see Leah. I can’t wait to tell her what Atlas said.

  I can’t wait to kiss her again.

  I just hope she’ll let me.

  19

  Leah

  Felix flexes his leg and cocks his head at me. “How’s it looking?”

  “Not bad,” I say, pushing back against him. “Pain?”

  “None,” he says, frowning.

  “Liar. How bad?”

  “Maybe a two. Barely anything.”

  “So, a five. Got it.”

  He sighs. “Come on, girl. I can’t miss any more practice, let alone a game.”

  “I know, that’s why you’re seeing me.”

  He grumbles. “You’re the enemy, you know that, right?”

  “Only to stubborn injured players that think they can keep going when they’re hurt.” I smile sweetly and wink at him.

  “Damn, you’re evil, you know that?”

  I let him go and stand up, brushing my hands together. “Honestly, I think you’re probably fine. You definitely need rest and ice, so let’s keep you limited today, okay?”

  “Will do.” He hops off the bench and we walk over to the big freezer together.

  I pull open the door and grab him a pack. “Any other injuries you know about that the guys aren’t reporting?”

  He laughs. “I ain’t no snitch.”

  “I know, but come on. It’s for their own good.”

  “No way, Leah. Now I know you really are evil.”

  I grin at him. “Only as evil as you idiot players make me.”

  “All right, all right.” He hops up on a table. “I hear you been dealing with some shit lately, huh?”

  I wince a little. “Atlas?”

  “Sure, that’s the word. You dumped his ass.”

  “Not really.”