Roman Read online Samantha Whiskey (Raleigh Raptors #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Raleigh Raptors Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
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A quick look across the weight room was all I needed for my muscles to lock up.

Rick was coming our way.

“Want me to get Nixon?” Hendrix asked quietly.

“No.” I stood and faced Rick head-on, crossing my arms over my chest and breathing through my instant, consuming need to beat the living shit out of him.

“I want to see her,” Rick spoke through gritted teeth, stopping about twelve inches from my face.

“I’ll be sure to tell her.” I cocked an eyebrow.

“You’ll do more than that you—”

“Hey now,” Hendrix warned softly, edging closer toward me.

A vein in Rick’s forehead bulged.

“Teagan makes her own choices,” I said. “So, yeah, I’ll tell her that you want to see her, but chances are that request will go with the roses you’ve sent every day for the past month—right into the trash.” I shrugged.

“She’s mine!” He lunged for me, and I sidestepped, sending him sprawling across the weight bench.

The room fell silent as every head turned our direction.

“Oops.” I clucked my tongue. “Better watch where you’re throwing that weight around, Rick. You might get hurt.”

“Padilla! Baker!” Coach boomed from the doorway. “My office, now.”

My stomach clenched. She doesn’t want him to know. I repeated the phrase in my head with every step I took toward Coach’s office, Baker stalking closely behind. It was Teagan’s choice whether to press charges. Her choice to tell—or not tell—Coach. It didn’t matter how much the rage burned like acid in my veins, begging for any release. Her story wasn’t mine to tell.

This was the first situation I’d ever been in where the only defense I could give her was my silence, and it fucking sucked.

“You’d better not say a fucking word,” Rick seethed over my shoulder as we approached the heavy, wooden door that marked Coach’s office.

“What? Scared the entire team will know you last all of fifteen seconds before you come? Pretty sure they already know. Word to the wise—stop overcompensating. Just admit you have a tiny dick and move on. Some women like that kind of thing.” I kept my voice calm, despite the tension radiating through my muscles.

“You mother-fu—”

“Get in here,” Coach barked, storming past his intern, who dutifully held the door open as Rick and I passed through.

Two of the office’s walls were glass. To one side, I could see the turf of The Barn, our massive indoor training facility. Through the other side, I caught a glimpse of the maintenance staff spraying down the lines on the outdoor practice field.

Two more days and that field would be lined with fans. Two more days, and unleashing my temper at practice would cost more than Teagan’s trust. It would be all over the gossip sites.

“Sit,” Coach ordered as he sank into the high-back office chair behind his desk.

I took the seat on the right.

“I’d rather not.” Rick braced his hands on the back of the seat to my left.

“Sit the fuck down,” Coach snapped.

Rick sat.

“You two want to tell me what the hell is going on?” He leaned back in his chair and looked at each of us in turn. “Roman?”

She doesn’t want him to know, I reminded myself, locking my jaw to keep my mouth shut. How the fuck was I going to play on the same team as this abusive asshole and not say something? Not do something? Was I supposed to just let him get away with it? It’s not for you to decide. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

Rick shot me glance tinged with fear but smoothed it over with a smile as Coach said, “fine. Baker?”

He relaxed, going so far as to hunch his shoulders slightly. “Roman kidnapped my girlfriend.”

Coach’s eyebrows shot sky-high.

I scoffed.

“Your ex-girlfriend has been my best friend for the last twenty-two years, and last time I checked, she drove herself to my house. The fact that you are such an asshole that she refuses to speak to you is hardly my issue.” My eyes narrowed on the slimy fucker.

He had the nerve to look wounded. “Man. I get it. It’s hard to want something you can never have.”

My blood ran cold both at the insinuation and its truthfulness.

“But if you don’t at least let me make sure she’s alive in there, I’m going to have to bring the authorities into this. Teagan would never stay away this long on her own.” Fake concern lit his eyes as his forehead puckered.

Fuck keeping my temper in check, I was going to crush his damned throat so he couldn’t utter another manipulative lie.

Coach hit the intercom button on his phone. “Rob.”

“Yes, sir?” The intern’s voice came through the speaker.

“Can you tell me if I have any other appointments this afternoon?” he asked casually.

“No, sir. Not until the one with Mr. Rutherford this evening,” Rob answered.

“Excellent, thank you.” Coach released the button and leaned back in his seat. “Sorry about that, I just had to make sure I didn’t have the producers for The Real Housewives of Raleigh booked or anything.”


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