Madi was holding the sides of her face when he came back to her side. She observed him as he took the bottle, inverted it onto a clean gauze pad, and gently placed it onto the big, oblong burn mark on her upper thigh. She cried out in equal parts pain and anguish, her hand covering his as her head flew back.
“Oww, oww, oww,” she cried and whimpered, looking down at her wound.
After several moments, the pain subsided and her cries turned to sniffles. Her red eyes looked him over and he frowned. “What the hell were you thinking, Madi? This could have been much worse. You were too emotional to be running on a treadmill like that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I…I started my period.”
Brett’s brows rose. He knew what it meant for her, but he wanted the explanation out loud. He wanted confirmation that he was still her best friend, the one she trusted with her secrets, the one she told everything to. He waited, his eyes coaxing it out of her.
She huffed and looked away, her lips quivering. It took her another few minutes for her to confess, but she couldn’t look him in the eyes as she did so, which hurt him. “Hunter and I were trying to get pregnant.”
There it was. She wasn’t pregnant with Hunter’s baby. The period marked her final failure at conception. As sad as that made Brett feel for her, he also felt a huge sense of relief that she wasn’t with child, wasn’t with Hunter’s child. God, I’m such an asshole.
“I was praying so hard that I got to keep something of him, some small part of him here on earth. But God is punishing me. I’m a failure as a wife, a woman. I couldn’t even do that right.”
“Jesus, Madi, is that what you think? C’mere.” He pulled her roughly into his chest and let her cry. He let her sob and snivel and weep until his shirt was soaked in her tears and snot. She was a mess, but he understood. First, she’d had her husband’s death to grieve for, now she had the child she’d never conceived to mourn, too. He was glad they were here alone in Mexico. This would’ve been another factor for her mother to add fuel to her fire; another indicator that Madi was “losing her mind.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Madi murmured as she stroked his bicep, making him shiver.
He remembered the hit his gut had taken when Hunter had declared it to the team one day at practice months and months ago:
“Guys, you’re looking at a future father right here,” Hunter stated proudly in the locker room once they’d left the showers.
Brett recalled feeling like he would hurl. The thought of Madi being pregnant with any man’s child that wasn’t his own made Brett physically sick. His stomach tightened as his center, Josh Robicheaux, asked what he couldn’t. “Dude! Is Madi pregnant?” Josh clapped Hunt’s back in celebration.
“Not yet, but we are certainly trying. Check this out.” Hunter then took a racy picture out of his bag and began to tape it up to his locker. It was Madi, in a sexy white negligee lying flat on their bed; she was the very image of every fantasy Brett had ever had of her, hair splayed on the pillow, leg up, biting into her bottom lip as if she couldn’t wait to be ravished. Brett gulped and looked away, trying to decelerate his racing heart.
“Fuck, dude, your wife is one naughty little angel.” Lang touched the photo, looking at it a little too long for Brett’s comfort.
“You ain’t seen naughty… Look at this one.”
Hunter then flashed another Polaroid, a pic of Madi with her lips around—assumedly—Hunter’s dick, sea-foam green eyes burning into the viewer’s as she looked up seductively.
“Jesus Christ, Hunt, you can’t put that in there,” Travis said with a snort. “You’re gonna turn the whole damn team on.” They all laughed, everyone save for Brett who was certain he was gonna hurl now.
In a flash of fury, he shot forward and took the pic from Hunt’s grasp, watching Hunter’s eyes narrow. “You son of a bitch,” Brett growled, mad as hell with his best friend. “How dare you display pictures like this! She’s your wife, not your fuckin’ mistress. Have a little more respect.”
After all, Brett knew Madison would be horrified if she knew what Hunt was showing them all.
“What’s the matter, friend, you jealous?” Hunter crossed his arms over his chest, and all Brett wanted in that moment was to break the bastard’s nose.
“Why would you put this in your locker?” Brett shook the photo at him.
“Oh, lighten up, Mr. Self-righteous; it’s just to get me even more pumped about this whole baby-makin’ thing. I see these, and it’ll get me primed and ready for my wife.”
Brett had never been more disgusted with Hunter. If this was his idea of a game or a joke, it wasn’t funny. This should be private, not hanging up in public for anyone to walk by and see. Brett shook his head. “Take them down.”
“Why? It’s not like taking them down will deter anyone from desiring my wife. They covet, anyway. Don’t they, Brett?”
It wasn’t the first time Hunt had called him out like this, and Brett was getting sick of it. Brett had backed off a lot since Madi and Hunter had gotten married, but Brett knew Hunter would always have a problem with their close relationship. Brett had been there long before Hunter was, and Hunt was never going to be okay with that fact. He hated Brett and Madi’s easy friendship; it was becoming more and more clear as time went on. Hunter could be friends with Brett, but he didn’t want his wife to be. Was he threatened? Why did it matter so much? Madi was Hunter’s. He’d won. Wasn’t that enough?
They squared off, jaws ticking, eyes narrowed, a breath away from beating the shit out
