Page 98 of Hot Shot
I wave hello to the security guard on duty and hurry in the direction of the locker room and Coach’s office. The door is mostly closed when I reach it, so I knock.
“Come in.”
I push the door open and step into the office. “What’s going on Coach?”
“Hunter, have a seat.” He gestures to the only empty chair in his office, and that’s when I see her.
I shuffle back a step, blinking a few times to make sure I’m not imagining the scene in front of me.
What’s Madison doing here?
She turns to stare up at me, confusion—or is that fear?—written in her expression. She told me she had a family emergency.
I crinkle my forehead glancing back and forth between Madison and Coach. What the hell is going on? Why would he call her? Better yet why would she tell me her father was on the phone, if. . . . no. There’s no way.
I glance from her to Coach again.
Then I see it.
She has his eyes.
I’d never have guessed without seeing them side by side, but now the resemblance is uncanny.
For fuck’s sake. He’s her father?
“Hunter, have a seat,” he repeats.
I stand fixed to my spot, my mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. My brain has short-circuited.
“Hunter,” Madison whispers. It’s as if her voice restarts my brain. I glance one more time between her and Coach before taking a seat.
“I take it you didn’t know,” Coach says, crossing his arms and pinning Madison with a look.
I know his expressions well by now having played for him for half a season. He’s disappointed. Is he disappointed with Madison for not telling me? Well, shit, that’s not what I expected.
Chapter thirty-six
Madison
“Hunter,”Iwhisper,glancingup at him.
He’s standing just inside Dad’s office, glancing back and forth between the two of us, his mouth gaping open.
Shit. Fuck.
This was not how I wanted this to go. My voice seems to bring him out of his trance, and he finally takes a seat.
When Dad called me, all he’d said was there was an emergency. He was fine, but he needed me to come to his office. He’s never asked me to his office, so it has to be something big. I have my suspicions.
When I stepped into his office, he told me to have a seat and that we were waiting on someone. Apparently, that someone was Hunter.
This can’t be good. My heart races. Did he find out we were dating, and now he’s going to intervene and tell us we can’t?
“Did you not know that Madison is my daughter?” Dad asks.
I glance over at Hunter, who is staring at me, his hands clenched at his side.
“Madison,” Hunter bites out. The tone of his voice has me turning toward him.
