Rematch (The Reed Brothers Book 22)

7. Gabby

Caleb leans into the open doorway of the PT room in the athletic training area and says, “You busy?” I look up from where I was reviewing the paperwork and doctor’s notes one of the team members brought in today.

“Never too busy for you,” I reply, as I set my paperwork to the side. “What’s up?”

He walks into the room and awkwardly scratches his nose. “Umm, I just wanted to talk to you about the rumors making the rounds.”

He looks ridiculously uncomfortable. He scratches his nose again and shifts his feet the way my little brother Alex does when he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have done.

“What rumors?” I ask, even though I have a good idea of what he’s talking about.

“You and Seth,” he says with a wince. “It’s all over campus.”

“What are they saying?” I ask as I start to restock the medical cart, which is low on bandages and antiseptic wipes.

“That you were caught sneaking out of his apartment this morning. I didn’t even think you liked him, Gabby,” he says with another wince.

I laugh. “First, I wasn’t sneaking. I walked right out on my own two legs with no remorse whatsoever in front of God and everybody. Then I talked to my mother on the phone and told her all about it. And I told Jake. And I think I told Pop in there somehow since he listens in on everything.”

“You told them about sleeping with Seth.”

“There was no sleeping involved,” I boldly state.

“Gabby, you know what he’s like. I just got here, and even I know what to expect from Seth.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“He’s very… popular.”

“And?”

I could tell Caleb what actually happened, but he has already decided that what everyone thinks happened did.

“Thank you for letting me know about the gossip,” I say. “I appreciate the forethought very much.”

But honestly, I don’t appreciate it at all. What I would appreciate more is if everyone minded their own business. Even if I did decide to sleep with Seth, it would be my business and only my business. Well, Seth’s too, but this is more about me and what Caleb fears about how people perceive women who make their own choices—despite gossip and rumors—about sexual partners.

Even if I did sleep with Seth—even knowing that Seth has slept with a lot of women on campus—it shouldn’t change how I am perceived in any way, shape, or form. And it’s sad that it has or does or could.

“What do you want me to tell people?” he asks softly.

“Nothing.” I shrug my shoulders. “It’s not their business.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “And it’s not mine either. I have way overstepped. Gabby…” he starts imploringly. “I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I’ll shut up now.”

“It’s fine, Caleb. I know you were trying to help me, and our connection from home makes that urge even stronger, but I’m fine. Thank you.” I turn to go back to stocking the supply cart.

He leaves, still grumbling under his breath about butting into other people’s business and how he should have known better.

A minute later, Tasha breezes into the room and hops up onto an exam table. She swings her feet back and forth like a four-year-old eating cotton candy at a fair.

“Not you, too,” I say. I shake my finger at her. “Don’t even think about it,” I warn.

“Is his dick as big as they say it is?” she asks. She cracks her gum, which I have always hated. And I hate it even more right now.

“My lips are sealed,” I reply.

I could tell everyone what really happened and clear my reputation, but the fact that a silly mishap has even given me a bad reputation in the first place has me so angry that I refuse to do it.

“Come on, Gabs,” she whines. “Help a girl out. I’m curious!”

“Then go find out. You might be able to find him in the weight room.”

“You’re serious. You’re not going to tell me anything?”

“Nope.” I let the P pop at the end.

“Are you okay?” she finally asks. And for the first time since she walked in, she is one hundred percent sincere.

“I’m fine.” Annoyed but fine.

“Are you sure?” She slides off the edge of the table to lean against it. “Gabby…” she starts.

I glance at my watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

She hangs her head and stares at her feet.

Suddenly, G.L. Stanton, one of the guys on the team—a dirtbag who talks about all women like they are there to please him—walks into the room. He grins and waggles his brows at me.

“Do you need something, G.L.?” I ask.

“Just you,” he says. He walks closer to me. “Now that Seth has popped that cherry, I thought you might want to take a turn with a real man.”

I turn around to find him standing way too close. And I see red. I’ve never done it before, but I ball up my fist, and I punch him right in the face. Then I grab his shoulders, steady myself, and jam my knee in his nuts, just like Jake taught me to do when I was seventeen. G.L. falls to the floor, gasping, grabbing for his nuts with one hand and his bloody nose with the other.

Tasha kneels next to him. “You so deserved that,” she says as she stares at him, shaking her head.

He’s still holding his nuts, and he looks a little green like he’s about to vomit, so I get a basin out of the cabinet, kneel next to him, push it into his blood-soaked hand, and I say, “Don’t ever fucking speak to me like that again.” Then I step over his body, which is still sprawled across the floor, and I walk out.

The tears don’t start until I’m halfway down the hall. And then they won’t stop. I look up and see a figure in team-blue hurrying toward me as I duck into an empty PT area. I pull the curtain. It opens behind me, and the figure in blue joins me. I can’t even see who it is because my eyes are swimming with tears. “Please go away,” I croak out over a sob.

“No,” he says. And I blink my eyes and see that it’s Seth. “Come here,” he says quietly.

“I don’t want to,” I say, as he stands there with his arms open.

“I always hug my sisters when they cry. It makes them feel better.” He motions me forward.

“No,” I say again. I shake out my hand, which really hurts. “I think I broke my hand.”

“Hang on. I’ll get some ice,” he says, and I hear his footsteps as he runs down the hall and returns with a bag of ice. He gently takes my hand and extends my fingers one by one. “I don’t think you broke it,” he says.

“Not for lack of trying,” I say over a heavy sob.

He kicks a chair toward me and pushes me into it. Then he places the bag of ice on my hand, which he holds in his as he kneels before me. “You want to tell me what happened?” he asks, his voice as slippery-soft as silk sheets.

“Not really.” I sniffle, still upset, but it’s getting better.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “We’ll just sit right here and be really quiet until you feel better.”

“I can sit by myself.” Another sob breaks free, and this time he grabs a chair, places it next to mine, sits, and pulls me against him.

“Not a chance I’m letting you sit by yourself,” he says. He tugs me forward as his arms wrap around me. “Give this a chance,” he whispers. “It works with my sisters every time.” He croons at me as I get his shirt all snotty.

Finally, when I can catch my breath, I sit up. “I got snot on your shirt.”

He picks up the tail of the shirt and uses it to wipe my nose, just like I did for him this morning.

“Gross,” I say.

“Yeah, well, needs must,” he says, quoting me from earlier.

“Needs must,” I repeat.

I haul in a long breath and let it out slowly.

“Let me see that hand,” he says. He lifts the ice bag, and I flex my fingers.

“It’s not broken,” he says.

“It feels broken.” I sniffle.

“It’ll probably hurt like a motherfucker tomorrow.” He chuckles. “Did you slam it in a drawer?” He gently extends my fingers one by one.

“No.”

“What did you do?”

I wave my other hand in the air. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” he says softly.

Suddenly, the curtain parts, and Tasha steps into the area. I look up and see her and G.L. standing there.

G.L. opens his mouth to say something. “Gabby, I’m sorry,” he says. Tasha pokes him in the side. “I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. It was rude, inconsiderate, and stupid. And so am I.”

Seth gets to his feet. “Wait a minute,” he starts. He looks from G.L. to me and back. “What did you do?” he asks as he shoves G.L. against the far wall of the curtained area. G.L. crashes into a metal supply cart. “What did he do?” Seth asks me again.

G.L. holds up his hands to fend off Seth’s advance, but there’s no stopping a bull who has seen red.

Suddenly, a voice booms out. “What’s going on in here?”

Everyone freezes. “Nothing, Coach,” G.L. says. “I just fell over.”

“That’s not what it looked like.” He looks around at the scattered supplies. “You know the rules, boys. You fight, you do it on the mat. Let’s go.” He jerks a thumb toward the wrestling room, where the mats are.

“Coach,” G.L. starts. “We don’t need to do that. I just—” But Seth cuts him off.

“Let’s do it,” Seth says with a snarl.

“Now, G.L.,” Coach says. He jerks his thumb again.

The guys precede him out of the room. Coach looks back at me. “Are you all right, Gabby?” he asks softly.

“I’m fine. It’s not a big deal, really,” I rush to say.

“It was a big deal, Gabby. I saw it on the security camera as it happened.” He grins. “You got a hell of a right hook, young woman,” he says. “I have a daughter who’s ten, Gabby, and I just hope she can handle herself that well when she’s your age.” He gestures toward my hand. “Keep ice on that, and if it still hurts, go see the PA, okay?”

“Yes, Coach. You don’t have to make them wrestle on the mat,” I rush to add.

He grins. “Oh, I definitely do,” he says, closes the curtain, and walks down the hall.

Shit. What have I done now?