Chapter 28

28

Molly

With the first round of the playoffs over, it’s nice to have this little break even if it’s only for a day.

Of all the events we do as a team, this is by far my favorite.

Not because I’m particularly social or love standing around with players who constantly test my patience.

No, it’s because there are puppies.

Dozens of adorable, squishy, barking puppies.

My heart doesn’t stand a chance.

I love dogs.

Dogs are the greatest thing that has happened to all of humankind.

Honestly, if I was given a choice, I’d adopt every dog, start a compound, and live there happily for the rest of my life.

Unfortunately, logistically, that’s not an option, so instead, I take part in fun events like this. Helping dogs in need get adopted.

A few feet away, I hear a commotion and turn to look in that direction. The makeshift stage buzzes with activity, and in the background is my favorite sound—the sound of puppies barking. I try to keep a straight face, but every time one of them lets out a yip or trips over its own paws, my resolve crumbles a little more.

Heaven.

This must be what heaven is.

Except for a few pesky details. Like the press. Cameras flash as the dogs run around and play.

I want to scoop one up and run off into the sunset, but instead, I stand near the edge of where we’ve set up for today’s event, trying to look like I’m in control. The truth? I’m already plotting which of these pups I’d adopt if I could.

From the corner of my eye, I see my brother. He’s shaking his head as Josie approaches him, cradling the cutest labradoodle I’ve ever seen.

“Good luck,” I call to him, fighting the urge to laugh.

“Thanks,” he mutters back, knowing full well that if Josie wants this puppy, it’s already a done deal.

“But first, before any adoption can take place, there’s a little matter of a photo shoot,” I remind him.

“I’m not doing it,” Dane grunts.

“Tell that to your girl. She signed you up,” I say, biting back a grin.

“I’m keeping my shirt on.”

“No, you’re not.” Josie bounces closer, still holding the puppy.

“Hellfire . . .”

“Don’t hellfire me, Mr. Grump. We will raise triple the money for these dogs.” She lifts the dog, her eyes practically glowing with mischief. “Please.”

“Fine,” Dane sighs, trudging off toward the photographer. The labradoodle wags its tail enthusiastically, oblivious to Dane’s suffering.

I watch them walk away, but my attention is drawn elsewhere.

Of course, it’s Hudson.

He’s dead center in the photo shoot, shirtless, holding a Maltese puppy like it’s the Cup. His grin is so annoyingly perfect that it practically blinds me. And if how handsome he is isn’t enough, he starts to nuzzle the dog.

Goddamn.

My ovaries are in full revolt. This is not fair.

No man this hot should hold a puppy. It’s basically cheating.

Next to him is Mason, the team’s second-in-command for attention-seeking antics. He’s striking a pose with a squirming beagle, laughing every time the puppy licks his face. The crowd loves it. They love them. Cameras flash as fans cheer and whistle.

If I roll my eyes any harder, they’d be in the back of my skull.

I shouldn’t be surprised. This is what Hudson does, after all.

Always the life of the party. He’s always front and center, soaking up every ounce of attention like he was born for it.

I turn to distance myself from him and find Dane still holding the puppy as if it’s radioactive.

“Can’t I just write a check?” he asks Josie, who’s now shaking her head at him with an exaggerated pout.

“He wants us to adopt him.” Oh, she’s laying it on thick, bottom lip puffed out and all.

“The team should adopt him,” Hudson says, his voice way too close for my liking.

Of course, he’s here. He’s always here. Like a shadow I can’t escape.

“I don’t think that will work; he needs an owner,” Josie says sweetly. “Like us.”

“It’s not going to be us,” Dane responds flatly.

Josie pouts harder.

“Since Molly and I are besties now, we can adopt him,” Hudson announces with that infuriatingly chipper tone of his.

I pivot so fast that I nearly fall over. “What?”

Has the man lost his mind? Does he ever think before he speaks?

“It’s a great idea, right?” His voice is sugary sweet, and his grin is so wide I want to smack it off his face.

Damn bet. Seeing as everyone from the team is here—and they’re all officially in on the bet—I plaster on my fakest smile, aware of the watchful eyes.

“Maybe. Seeing you with a dog would be a highlight of my life.” I move closer, lowering my voice so only he can hear. “Watching you clean up shit, that is.”

He throws his head back in a boisterous laugh. “I think it’s a done deal.”

Hudson leans in close, his voice a low murmur, sending heat prickling along my neck. “I know you want to kill me.”

“Guess I owe Mason twenty bucks. I bet you’d break before the end of the event,” Dane chimes in, smirking.

Hudson leans down so only I can hear. “Double or nothing, I make you snap before dinner?”

I open my mouth, ready to fire back, when I catch sight of the photographer stepping in front of us. The last thing I need is photographic evidence of me losing my temper.

“I need you guys closer,” the photographer says.

Hudson obeys immediately. “Perfect. Almost there.”

Before I can react, Hudson wraps me in his arms, smooshing the Maltese puppy between us.

The warmth of his chest seeps into me, and for half a second, I forget to be annoyed. The camera flashes, the puppy wiggles, and for just a moment, I feel something dangerously close to contentment.

I smile broadly, mustering the fakest one I have inside me. But for a moment, as the camera flashes and in the warmth of his arms, I almost smile for real.

Almost.

A small part of me wonders what it would be like to have a dog. The unconditional love, the companionship . . . but then reality sets in. There is a “no pets allowed” rule in my apartment. Not even a goldfish. If I want unconditional love, I’ll have to get it elsewhere.

Or in my case . . .

Never.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.