Perfect Spiral (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 2)

by Lane Hart

  “You can’t be serious!” I yell at him, my anger battling its way out to overcome the exhaustion. “I have given everything to this team for three years, and now I just need a few days -"

  “Your personal life has gotten out of control, Quinton, and you know it! If that is your kid, then you were reckless months ago, just like you’re being irresponsible now.”

  Coach’s unexpectedly harsh words pull me up short, hurting even more because I know they’re the truth. That doesn’t mean I’ll back down on this particular issue.

  “Bench me. See if I give a shit, because you know the only chance this team has of winning is with me playing,” I tell him through clenched teeth. “I hope whatever point you’re trying to make here is worth losing.”

  On the short drive to the hospital, the realization of what I just did hits me.

  Did I seriously just walk out on my team?

  Yes, I believe I did.

  And while football has always been the most important thing in my life, the one and only thing I’m good at, there’s not an ounce of regret in me for what I did.

  Last night I maybe only got two hours of sleep and not just because Brady was crying but because I was worried about him. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t do anything. I should’ve taken him to the emergency room instead of waiting all damn night. Now, they’re putting him in the hospital. It was my responsibility to take care of him, and I let him down.

  Right before I pull up in the hospital’s parking lot, my phone thankfully dings with a new text message from Callie telling me they’ve checked in and are getting settled in the room on the third floor in the NICU center.

  Right off the elevators, I spot a nurse at the front desk. “Hi, I’m looking for…Brady Dunn’s room,” I say, hesitating over his name since it’s the first time I’ve ever spoken it aloud. It’s the name I wrote down on all the paperwork at the pediatrician’s office Monday since he doesn’t have any other name.

  The middle-aged brunette looks up at me, and her eyes widen in recognition. “You’re Quinton Dunn,” she says with a gasp.

  Shit.

  For the first time, I realize how bad this will be if this gets out, a baby that may or may not be mine from a woman who overdosed on drugs. Callie doesn’t need that shit on her right now, the media badmouthing her dead sister. And while some of the coaches and a few close teammates know about Brady, I had hoped to keep everything quiet in the press until we get the paternity results back and we know for certain. I really don’t want to deal with any of that crazy shit right now since there’s enough to worry about with Brady being in here.

  “Could you please not tell anyone…?”

  “Of course we won’t tell anyone,” the nurse responds with a huff. “But you should be careful coming in and out of the hospital. Anyone could see you, and you’re very recognizable.”

  “You’re right, I know,” I admit.

  “I’m the supervising nurse, and I’ll talk to everyone on the floor to remind them patient information is HIPAA protected. And if anyone asks, we’ll just tell them you’re visiting with some of your pediatric fans,” she replies with a wink.

  “Thank you,” I reply, hoping I can trust her. And then a thought hits me. “Do I…do I have pediatric fans here?” I ask.

  “Of course. You’re Quinton Dunn! There are several guys and girls battling cancer who I bet you could cheer up with a quick visit.”

  Damn, that’s sad as shit. I freaked out when Callie told me Brady has jaundice, so I couldn’t imagine how the kids and parents deal with something as life threatening as cancer.

  “I’ll, um, I’ll ask my manager to bring by some jerseys, footballs and stuffed wildcats if you can give me a list of how many I need,” I tell her.

  “Why, Mr. Dunn, that would be so generous of you,” she says with a smile. “I’ll get right on it.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” I tell her, feeling sort of bad for not thinking of doing something for the kids here sooner. “For now, can you show me where to find Brady? How’s he doing?” I ask.

  “Sure, and we just got him all settled in. First, you’ll need to get a bracelet that matches his. Only family can see him,” she tells me as she types on the computer in front of her. “Let me print you one up real quick, and then I’ll take you back.”

  A few minutes later and I’m finally stepping into Brady’s room for the first time.

  Holy shit.

  The little guy looks so tiny and fragile inside the enclosed plastic container, lying underneath a bright blue light. He’s completely naked except for his diaper and a dark blindfold over his eyes.

  “Hey,” Callie says from off to the right. I look over to see her getting up from the sofa against the wall.

  “Hey,” I reply. “How is he?”

  “They just laid him down,” she tells me, coming over to stand beside me to see into his bed. “The warmth must feel nice, or he finally gave into the exhaustion, because he stopped crying and fell right to sleep.”

  “Good,” I reply on a relieved exhale. “Has he had anything to eat?”

  “About two ounces while we were waiting for the doctor,” she answers. “His weight’s gone down about half a pound since Monday, but the doctor said he’ll probably want to eat more tomorrow. They’re gonna draw blood to check his bilirubin levels every twelve hours.”

  “So they think he’s gonna be okay?” I ask.

  “Of course. They see this all the time. I think the doctor said that about three in five babies become jaundiced. It’s very common.”

  “Good,” I reply, some of the stress and tension leaving my body. “Now we just…wait?”

  “Yeah. I can stay with him if you need to go –”

  “No!” I growl, cutting her off. “I’m staying, and that’s the end of the discussion!”

  “Sorry, I just wasn’t sure…” she trails off, taking a step back from me.

  Rubbing a hand over my face, I take a deep breath to try and calm down. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just been a rough morning, and last night was horrible. I’m worried and tired and cranky…”

  “Well, then why don’t you come sit down and rest? Try to take a little nap while he’s sleeping,” Callie says before she takes my hand in hers and leads me to the vinyl sofa.

  “You sure?” I ask her. “I feel like…I dunno, like I need to be doing something.”

  Taking a seat, she pulls me down next to her. “The light is all Brady needs right now, so get some rest.”

  With a heavy sigh, I lean my head back on the sofa cushion but don’t let her hand go yet. Surprisingly, Callie doesn’t try to pull away from me either. I’ve never been much of a hand holder, but I can admit that it’s nice and comforting right now in this moment, like my anchor during a hurricane, keeping me from getting lost at sea.

  “Where’s Kelsey?” I roll my head toward Callie to ask, mostly just because it gives me a reason to look at her beautiful face again.

  “She took my car back to the house to get some sleep. The poor girl was a zombie,” Callie says with a small smile. She doesn’t sound the least bit hostile toward Kelsey; unlike she did yesterday when she first met her.

  “You like her,” I point out with my own grin.

  “She’s a nice girl.”

  “Yeah, she is.”

  “And she has a huge crush on you, by the way,” Callie says, making me bark out a laugh.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask.

  “Like you didn’t know,” Callie huffs with an eye roll.

  “I didn’t,” I reply while looking back over to check on the brightly glowing baby. “And even if that’s true, she’s a little young for me. Besides, I’m currently taking a hiatus from women thanks to that little glow worm.”

  “A hiatus?” Callie asks. “Yeah, right. Like that will last more than a week.”

  “It’ll last,” I assure her, because the woman currently holding my hand is the only one I’ve wanted since I first saw her yest
erday morning. The one woman who has ever actually turned me down. “Wanna place a bet?” I ask her.

  “Sure,” she says. “If I win, you let Brady stay with me for an entire weekend.”

  “Deal,” I say, even though it’s possible that in a few days, based on the results of a test, he could be spending every day with her. I try not to dwell on that possibility. There’s no point worrying about something I have no control over. Either he’s mine, or he’s not. We’ll find out soon enough and deal with the results when the time comes.

  “If I win,” I start while stroking my thumb back and forth over her knuckles without looking at her. “You have to let me kiss you.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Callie’s head turn away from me, glancing out the hospital window as I hold my breath waiting for her response.

  “Fine,” she eventually agrees. “One kiss. Now get some sleep before you say anything else crazy.”

  And so I finally close my eyes and give in to the exhaustion, feeling a little more optimistic about everything than I did ten minutes ago.

  Chapter Eleven

  Callie

  When Quinton’s head falls limply onto my shoulder about fifteen minutes after he closed his eyes, I try not to flinch and wake him. He’s tired and needs the sleep. It’s not like it’s all that uncomfortable to have a giant man resting on me. Still holding my hand while he’s slumped on the uncomfortable sofa, his long legs spread wide in front of him, he sort of reminds me of a big baby who is just looking for a little comfort.

  That opinion changes a few minutes later when he pulls my hand over to the top of his thigh, right up against his very big cock. Looking at his face, I try to determine if he’s actually awake and just messing with me or not, but his blue eyes are sealed shut; long, dark lashes resting on his cheeks. Just like Brady’s.

  I’m starting to believe Quinton really is his father; and if so, that means my chances of getting custody of my sister’s son are dwindling rapidly. And while my heart is already breaking with the truth of the matter, I realize that trying to make Quinton look like an unfit father is going to be much harder than I originally thought. Perhaps it’s even impossible.

  Speaking of harder…my knuckles are currently being dragged up and down the growing length next to the fly on Quinton’s jeans. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t impressed or…a little turned on, imagining the place between my legs made just for such a long, thick object. I blame my fifteen-month celibacy for the reason my heart begins to speed up and why my thighs clench at the idea of having him inside me. Fifteen long months of my deteriorating fertility wasted after catching my worthless piece of shit husband cheating on me with my sister.

  It’s not as if sex with John was ever…good. No, it was just a means to an end, one he could never successfully fulfill. So many years with him wasted, and now time is running out.

  On the other hand, the Jolly Green Giant beside me looks, and now I am all too aware that he feels too, like he was made for the sole purpose in life for procreating. Is that why so many women swoon over him? Because their ovaries know he’s the epitome of virile?

  “Mmm,” Quinton moans in his sleep at the same time he squirms further down into the seat. After that, the pressure he places on my hand pumping his cock increases like he needs more. Which is why I’m not all that surprised when he releases my fingers interlaced with his in order to cover his bulge with my palm. For curiosity's sake only, of course, I squeeze his shaft.

  Wow.

  Quinton should’ve played baseball instead of football because he’s swinging a freaking bat between his legs. Watching the room door for signs of the nurse, I may or may not start stroking his growing shaft to see how much bigger it will get. Apparently, I’m not jerking him fast enough since Quinton’s giant hand covers mine to move it quicker while his hips start to lightly thrust, getting involved in the action. And the throbbing between my own legs says I’m not as unaffected by him as I thought.

  “Come on, Callie. You won’t break it,” Quinton mumbles, startling me, but his eyes are still shut. He’s having a dream obviously; and in that dream he’s with me, of all people? No, that’s impossible.

  I don’t get the time to dwell on his words, though, because his hand squeezes mine harder before he lets go to rub his thumb over the head of his cock through the denim. His muscular body shudders, and then I realize he’s coming in his pants, all thanks to my hand job.

  Surprisingly, that doesn’t make him wake up either. If anything, he heaves a sigh, like all the tension has been released from his body. I ease out from underneath him, laying his head back on the seat. Standing on wobbly legs, I look in the cabinets for a blanket, which I thankfully find, mostly to hide the wet spot on his jeans that I feel a little guilty about rather than to provide him with the warmth. With a quick check on Brady, who is still sound asleep, I escape from the room, jog down the stairs and head out the front doors of the hospital to grab some fresh air.

  What the heck did I just do?

  Quinton

  I wake with a horrible crick in the right side of my neck, so I try to roll over and get more comfortable. Thankfully, my quick reflexes allow me to catch myself before I land on the floor. Sitting up, I see the bright blue glow across the room and remember that I’m in the hospital with Brady, who has jaundice. Guess I passed out when I sat down with Callie after going three nights without much sleep.

  Just as I start to stand up to stretch and check on Brady, I notice the blue blanket on my lap, the one covering quite a big wet spot on the crotch of my jeans. A very sticky wet spot.

  Are you fucking kidding me?

  I had a wet dream in the middle of the day in a hospital room? Who does that?

  Although, I can admit that I don’t feel nearly as frantic and anxious as I was when I first found out Brady was here. Now I’m just embarrassed as shit.

  Then, I remember holding Callie’s hand and sitting down next to her on this sofa. Oh, God. She must’ve been the one who covered me with the blanket. Was she still in here when I came in my pants too?

  As uptight as that woman is, she’ll never forget this or forgive it. Thankfully, she can’t read my mind, or she would probably be even more pissed because I’m pretty sure I was having a dream about her. Yeah, she was lying in my bed wearing a white, cock-teasing negligee, but she refused to let me fuck her despite how much I begged. Instead, she declared she could only give me a hand job, hence the mess in my pants.

  Fuck.

  I’m about to stand up to check on Brady before trying to do damage control in a bathroom when the room door opens, and Lathan and the nurse from the front desk walk in. I lean back against the sofa again, deciding to keep the blanket on my lap.

  “This man claims he’s your brother,” the nurse tells me with a skeptical scowl as she comes over with a piece of paper.

  “Ah, yeah. He was adopted,” I reply with a grin. “See, we have the same haircut.”

  “Right, well, he can stay as long as you’re here with him. And here’s the list you asked for,” she says, handing over the paper before leaving the room again.

  “Whoa,” Lathan mutters as he walks up to the plastic container where the baby is sleeping. “He looks so pitiful in there,” he glances over to me and says, echoing my sentiments.

  “Yeah, but he’s stopped crying and is finally sleeping, so I think it’s good for him,” I reply, folding the list of kids' names and setting it beside me so I can call Wilson and ask him to bring by the items after Lathan leaves. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “Sure,” he says before he strolls over and takes the seat next to me.

  “I had a quick nap,” I explain with a tug on the blanket. “He didn’t sleep at all last night, and not much the two nights before.”

  “So sleep deprivation is your reason for pissing off coach and getting benched for the first quarter Sunday?” he asks me with narrowed green eyes.

  Ah, so I guess Coach Griffin decided on my punishment
. He’s gonna make me sit out the first quarter while my backup probably plays like shit. That way all the fans and my teammates can be angry at me when they realize I was benched for missing practice.

  “Brady’s my responsibility, at least for now,” I explain. “Without a birth certificate, he can’t go on anyone’s insurance. I’m paying the medical bills, so they’ll do what they have to for him and not worry about costs.”

  “What about that nanny you hired?” Lathan asks, sounding slightly less angry.

  “She’s at home asleep since she was up pulling her hair out with me while we tried to figure out what was wrong with Brady all last night. Kelsey is young, and this is too much to put on her. She took him to the doctor for me this morning.”

  “I get that you’re worried and all, but the team has to be your priority, or we all suffer,” Lathan tells me. “Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to be with my mom at her doctor’s appointments or take care of her after the chemotherapy sessions? But I stayed here because we don’t get the luxury of sick days or personal days.”

  “That’s different,” I tell him and wince, instantly regretting my words. “Sorry, man, I just meant that your mom has your dad to look after her. This kid doesn’t have anyone except for me and maybe Callie, if he’s her sister’s baby.”

  “He’s also a baby who won’t remember any of this shit. So what does it matter if it’s you here or the nurses?” he asks. “Especially if it costs you your spot on the team.”

  “You don’t get it, and there’s no way for me to explain,” I say, leaning forward to bury my face in my hands. “Being someone’s father or possibly their father is different. His life is in my hands, and that’s not something I’m just gonna casually pass off on a nanny or nurse or someone else. If something bad happens to him…that’s all on me.”

  “Sorry, I’ll, um, come back.”

  I lift my head as soon as I hear Callie’s voice, but she’s already disappeared out the door.

  “Who was that?” Lathan asks.

  “Callie, Bianca’s sister, so possibly Brady’s aunt,” I reply.