Read Online Shot Caller (A Bad Boy's Baby Novel) by Colleen Masters - Free Book Online

he tells me breathlessly. At sixty
years old and sporting a burgeoning beer belly, Barry isn’t in the best shape
to keep up with two brawling twenty-something athletes.
    “We
should separate them,” I
tell Barry, watching as Chris Glover places himself bodily between his two
sparring players. The last thing he needs is for the coverage of our home
opener next week to be dominated by how many black eyes the team is sporting.
    “That’s
for fucking sure,” Barry
replies, shaking his head, “I’ll grab Barlow and bring him into an exam room to
wait for the medical team. You do the same with Walcott.”
    I
whip around to face my boss, feeling my cheeks go red. “You sure you don’t want
to deal with Walcott? I know how stoked you are to have him here—”
    “This
is no time for going star-struck, Miss Abrams,” Barry snaps, hurrying over to the
team’s captain, “Just grab Walcott and calm him the fuck down.”
    I
square my shoulders and march toward the fray. Maddox Walcott is grinning
devilishly at Hadrian Barlow, who looks like his head is about to explode—and
not just because of his fiery orange hair, either. I can see in an instant that
this isn’t a real two-sided fight. Maddox is just taunting Barlow. It’s a power
move. This is classic Mad Man Walcott—he was pulling this shit all the time in
the Premiere League. When he wasn’t busy breaking people’s noses, he was
fucking with their heads like a pro. It figures he’s good at mind-fucking as he
is actual fucking.
    “Come
with me,” I
order Maddox, grabbing hold of his ripped arm.
    He
shakes off my hand without even glancing at me, watching as Barry tries to get a
hold of Barlow. Undeterred, I reapply my grip, digging my fingers into his
thick, muscled arm with a bit more intensity than is strictly called for. That
gets his attention. He looks down and sees me standing beside him, and I will
myself to stay focused even as I take in his gorgeous, sweaty face. He must
have had one last growth spurt after I saw him last, because I don’t remember
having to crane my neck quite this far to look him in the eye. He’s got to be
6’ 4” by now, an even foot
taller than me. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get away with his
usual bullshit. Not with me.
    “Let’s
go, Mad,” I
go on, tugging him down the hallway, “I won’t say it again.”
    “Aw,
come on. We’re just havin’ a
friendly little spat,” Maddox
grins, jerking his head toward Hadrian, “Isn’t that right, mate?”
    “Fuck
you, Walcott!” the
captain bellows, fuming as Barry leads him away, “You cockney piece of shit.”
    “The
only proper kind of shit to be, my friend,” Maddox calls, flipping him off while the
coaches have their backs turned. Just before Barlow can come charging back at
Mad, Barry wrangles him into an exam room and closes the door.
    “Real
fucking mature,” I
mutter to Maddox, who strides down the hall toward a room of his own.
    “What?
It’s not my fault if the prick can’t handle a little bump on the head,” Maddox shrugs, shucking
off his tee shirt and letting it fall to the ground.
    “You
know we don’t have any maids on staff, right?” I say coolly, nodding at his dirty
laundry, “What, did you never learn how to pick up after yourself?”
    “By
the time I had anything to pick up, I could already pay someone else to do it
for me,” he
grins, sitting down on the exam table as the medical team arrives.
    I
step back to let the doctors do their work. Maddox has a nasty cut on the side
of his head, and definitely needs stitches. He is absolutely unperturbed as the
medical team fixes him up. I don’t see him wince even once. I let my eyes
wander along his bare torso, telling myself that my gaze is purely
professional. As if. Maddox is far more built than when I last knew him. He’s
an absolute tank these days, made entirely of pure, hard muscle. It’s clear
that his strength comes from living and playing hard, not spending