Page 47 of Fighting Chance
“Not my fault the old man has no sense of humor.”
“I have humor,” Johnson grumbles.
“Yeah, the grade-A dick kind,” Irving jabs back.
A leg kicks me in the shin. Frowning, I snap my head up to Grayson. “What?”
“What do you mean,what?” he whisper-hisses.
“Did I get dragged here just to watch Johnson and Irving have a domestic?” Matteo Valenti drawls as he strides into the room, his hands in the pockets of his pants.
With my eyes still locked on Grayson’s, I have the perfect view of him raising his brows at me.
Before I can chicken out, I jump to my feet, the suddenmovement making heads whip my way. My chest freezes and my lungs don’t know how to expel air, let alone draw in a breath.
Grayson’s hand claps down on my shoulder, the touch rough enough to jostle my lungs into working once more.
“Fuck me, why does Kieran look like he’s two seconds away from shitting himself?” Lewis asks.
Johnson eyes me warily. “You’re not dying, are you?”
Grayson smacks his forehead. “You lot have no decorum.”
“Why would we bring house décor to the locker room?” Irving asks innocently.
The men groan.
“That’s decoration, you dumb shit,” Johnson snaps.
“I’m not dumb, you old hag!”
Grayson’s sigh is long, his eyes tightly squeezed shut. He pauses, like he’s counting to ten. “Irving,” he says calmly. “Decorum means appropriate behavior, like social etiquette, manners?—”
“Everything you don’t have.”
“Shut it, Johnson.”
The man lifts his hands in surrender, instantly backing down. Grayson is the only one he seems to listen to.
“My bad, Cap,” Irving says quietly, his cheeks tinted pink.
“All good, just give Kieran a moment to say what he needs to say. It’s why we’re here early, remember?”
Irving mimics zipping his lips and throwing the key away, while Johnson claps his hands together like he’s thanking the heavens.
If I didn’t feel like I was about to projectile vomit all over these fuckers, I’d be laughing my ass off.
“Is everything okay?” Matteo asks.
“Spit it out. You’re starting to scare Irving,” Ellington declares, pointing at Irving who seriously does look pale and green.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
“I have a daughter.”
The words fly out of me like a gunshot, cracking through the room.
Everyone falls deadly quiet, and I’m not the only one who holds their breath.
