All hell broke loose. Reporters jumped up and players stepped off the platform, looking like two gangs squaring off. Well, one small gang of hulking athletes against a crowd of squawking dickwads. And dickwadettes.
Someone grabbed him and hauled his butt down the hallway. Shanstrom.
Shanny shoved him through the doorway into the locker room. “What in the fucking name of fuck is wrong with you?”
Quinn stumbled backward, but T.J. kept coming. “Do you know what you just did in there?”
Normally, Quinn would never contemplate messing with this motherfucker—he liked the guy, and more importantly, his survival instinct was too strong—but adrenalin was still pumping through him, and it apparently fueled his inner Stupid Man.
“No, Shanny,” he shot back. “Please enlighten me. What did I just do in there?”
Now Grims appeared, filling up the space next to Shanny, looming larger and more badass than Shanny, if that were possible. “What the fuck’s going on?”
Shanny gave Quinn’s shoulder another push. “This asshole ran his mouth off about having the virus. Then he touched every goddamn mic and grabbed the reporters’ shit and breathed all over it.”
Before Quinn could spit out a comeback, the locker room door burst open, and in stalked a fuming Coach LeBrun. Seeing Coach red-faced jarred something inside of Quinn, and his anger evaporated. He took a step back in the face of his coach’s fury.
“Hadley,” LeBrun said in a scary-low voice, “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire fucking life.” Coach was breathing so damn hard his nostrils were flaring, but somehow he kept his voice chillingly quiet. “Is this a joke to you? People are scared shitless over this, and you’re acting like a stupid little kid whose ball got taken away at recess. Now get your shit and get the hell out of here.” Coach stepped back and parked clenched fists on his hips.
Quinn’s gaze took a quick tour around the locker room. His teammates had gathered around, and while some gaped at their normally unflappable coach, a number of them fired Quinn looks that could have sliced him to slivers. In that moment, it struck him how badly he’d screwed up.
Chapter 8
Castaway, aka Social Distancing
A scant few days into shelter-in-place, and Sarah was losing her mind. Scratch that. Her mind had already walked out the door, and she couldn’t go after it because the six of them—which included Archer and Hobbes—were in fucking lockdown. In a tiny house that shrank by the second. If Sarah had to listen to her brother and Lily through these thin walls one more time … Shit, she knew waaaay more about her brother’s sex life than a sister should ever know.
Added to that awkwardness was a buzzing undercurrent of tension. No one was barking at anyone—yet—but Daisy’s every sneeze seemed to send the household into a panic about her coming down with the coronavirus. And man, that little girl sneezed a lot! Sarah was trying her damnedest to summon her inner mother—which, apparently, was buried as deep as the Marianas Trench—but the girl’s misery was beginning to scrape Sarah’s already frayed nerves even further.
She was tip-tapping on her keyboard in the Pepto Bismol-pink bedroom—her room for the foreseeable future—engaging in another futile search for a new place when her phone vibrated.
“Just what I need,” she grumbled, expecting to see Wolf’s number. He continued calling and texting, and though she hadn’t responded, each of his attempts jolted her like a dentist’s drill without novocaine. She snatched up her phone and was instead delighted to see a local number.
Finally! A job! A place to live! Paige Miller needs a consultation!
She slowed her racing heart and answered in her most professional voice. “Sarah Nelson speaking.”
“Well, hello, Sarah Sunshine.”
Shit! “What do you want, Sparky?” Just like that, the words flew out quick and snarky. Not at all what she’d intended. Oh well. His overinflated ego would register the slight about as much as a buffalo would notice a ladybug landing on its hide.
He chuckled, which unsettled her even more. “Ah, see, that’s what I love about talking to you. You’re so warm and fuzzy. And your repartee is priceless. You’d be an awesome date.”
“Haha. Save yourself the trouble of asking because I am not going out on a date with you.”
“Say it isn’t so! My poor heart will never recover.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive, Romeo,” she snorted.
“Look, toots, even if I could take you out—which I can’t because of social distancing and your brother’s threats to kill me slowly—you’re the last person I’d call. In fact, if we were stuck on a deserted island together, I think I’d prefer floating in the water as shark bait over rolling around in the sand with you.”
Ouch! Okay, Sparky. Game on. She put her best I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude into her voice. “Pretty sure the sharks wouldn’t want you either.”
“Were you an inquisitor in a former life?”
“You get funnier by the second, Hadley. As scintillating as sparring with you is, I’m in the middle of something important—”
“Oh? Sharpening your teeth?”
She made a rolling motion with her hand, even though he couldn’t see it. “Can we get around to the real reason for your call sometime today?”
A thunderous throat clear came through the line. “Yeah. About my offer the other night.”
“Offer? Um, are you confusing me with the puck bunny who blew you in your truck?”
A gargling noise came from the other end.
“Oh my heavens!” she gasped in an over-the-top voice. “Did you offer me the chance and I missed it somehow? Damn! I think I’ll fling myself into my niece’s baby pool and drown myself now. Good-bye.”
“As usual, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” His voice grew muffled, as if he were covering his phone, but she thought she heard the words “swear jar,” and then he was back. “The caregiver job offer. Remember? It’s possible you didn’t
