Perfect Spiral (A Playing Dirty Sports Romance Book 2)

by Lane Hart

  “Before I prescribe any antibiotics for this sinus infection, I want you to go over to the hospital and have lab work done,” she tells me while turning back around to type on the tablet.

  “Lab work?” I ask, and she pauses to look up at me.

  “A pregnancy test,” she answers. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but cramping is common the first few weeks as the ligaments begin to stretch. Before you take any prescription or over-the-counter cold medicine, I think we should be certain.”

  “Okay,” I agree, already certain that the results will be negative.

  “Usually we could do the test here, but we’re a skeleton crew on Saturdays,” the doctor tells me as she types. “Okay, you should be all set. Head over to the laboratory at the hospital, and they’ll take care of you. Once I have your results, I’ll call and let you know what I can prescribe to get rid of the infection.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her, climbing off the table and following the doctor into the hallway.

  “Good luck, Callie. I know you’ve been trying for years,” Dr. Sutton says before we part ways.

  On the short two-minute drive to the hospital, I consider calling Quinton to tell him I’m taking a test or responding to one of his many texts, but I decide to wait. Most likely it will turn up negative, and I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait for the results. There’s no reason to have him worrying about it when he needs to be thinking about winning tomorrow.

  “Hi, I’m Callie Clarke. Dr. Sutton scheduled me for a pregnancy blood test,” I tell the lady at the laboratory window.

  “The office forwarded us your insurance information, so have a seat, and someone will be right with you,” she tells me.

  The waiting room is nearly empty except for one other man, so I don’t have to wait long before I’m called back. A vial of blood is drawn painlessly by a tall, thin brunette who distracts me the entire time by making small talk about our cats.

  “Do you want to wait for the results?” she asks while placing a bandage over the small puncture mark.

  “Sure. How long will it take?”

  “About fifteen to twenty minutes. I’ll see you out front as soon as it’s ready,” she tells me, so I go plop down in the same navy blue waiting room chair and pull my phone out just to give me something to do to pass the time. I reread Quinton’s messages telling me the plane was about to leave and then when they arrived in San Francisco last night. He sent me the number for the hotel and his room number in case he didn’t have cell reception. And today he’s told me he misses me and hopes I’m feeling better.

  I’ll respond to his messages in a few minutes to let him know I went to the doctor and have a sinus infection, just as soon as I have the results and know there’s nothing else he needs to know.

  “Miss Clarke,” the same technician says when she opens the door to the lab holding a small, white plastic bag. Seeing the mostly empty room, she comes over as I stow my phone away in my purse and get to my feet. “Congratulations,” she whispers, offering me the bag. “Here are some samples of prenatal vitamins for you to try until you can see your obstetrician. You should call Monday and set up an appointment. Oh, and use gloves when changing your cat’s litter pan.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I ask, taking the bag from her hand and looking inside at the rows of boxes before glancing up at her again.

  “Your test was positive. You’re pregnant,” she clarifies.

  “Are…are you sure?” I ask in shock.

  “Yes, ma’am. We’ll forward the results to your doctor,” she tells me. “Are you okay?”

  I stumble backward until I’m sitting again, the bag of vitamins falling to the floor. Certainly, I must be dreaming.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her again, tears filling my eyes and overflowing down my cheeks.

  “Our tests are very sensitive and detect pregnancy before most pharmacy tests, so you’re likely only a few weeks along,” she says, taking the seat next to me and offering me tissues from the table beside her. “I would print you the results, but they’re just numbers. Maybe you would feel more confident about the results if you go buy a test to take at home and see the results for yourself?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I answer with a nod while mopping up my face. “It’s just that, I had given up, you know?” And then I lose it, bawling into my hands like a baby. A baby. There’s one inside me right now!

  I sob like a crazy person in the lobby for several long minutes before I finally pull myself together. More tests. I need more tests to see for myself, a handful of them at least.

  “Thank you,” I say to the kind lady who sat with me during my breakdown.

  “Are you able to drive yourself, or should we call someone for you?” she asks when I get to my feet.

  “I’m fine, really. Just…shocked and happy,” I assure her. “Deliriously happy.”

  As soon as I get in the car, I drive to the closest pharmacy and grab three different pregnancy tests before heading home. Not my home, but Quinton’s. Lately, it feels more like home than mine ever did with him and Brady. Even Kelsey. Maybe it is time for me to officially move in.

  I slip through the front door and go straight to the bathroom where my shaking hands rip open each test, and I carefully follow the directions.

  After I’m finished, I line the sticks up on the sink counter and watch the colors change on two, and an hourglass blinking at me on the third. The marks on the color sticks are hard to read, but there’s no mistaking the “Pregnant” that pops up on the digital one.

  “Ahhh! I’m pregnant!” I scream, then slap a hand over my mouth. But that doesn’t keep the words from spilling out again. “I’m pregnant.”

  Reaching down, I press my palm over what I thought was just my bloated lower belly, but it’s actually a baby.

  “Kelsey!” I yell for her as I go over to open the en suite bathroom door in Quinton’s room. “Kelsey!” I shout again when she doesn’t come fast enough.

  “What, what, what? Are you okay?” she asks when she comes through the door.

  “I’m pregnant!”

  “You are?” she exclaims, her jaw falling open in surprise. “Congratulations!”

  Kelsey sweeps me in a hug as I start crying again.

  “So you and Quinton…” she asks as she pulls back with a smile on her face.

  “We’ve been trying,” I admit. “He was crazy enough to give in when I asked. Now we’re having a baby!”

  “Oh my God. This is so great. Brady’s gonna have a little brother or sister, barely a year younger than him. I bet they’ll be such good friends! You have to call Quinton and tell him!”

  “No,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “I can’t tell him he’s gonna be a father again over the phone.”

  “Then go! Go to California and see his game like you were supposed to!”

  Go and tell Quinton in person, this weekend?

  Yes, that’s what I want to do, because I can’t wait until Monday night when the team finally returns.

  “Shit! What time is it?” I ask, glancing around the room for a clock. “My plane left an hour ago!”

  “Maybe there’s another one tonight or in the morning. With the three-hour time difference, you could probably still make it to the game pretty easily,” Kelsey says.

  “Yeah, I’ll get packed, and then I’ll look for flights,” I tell her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Quinton

  Around ten o’clock Saturday night there’s a knock on my hotel room door. Of course I wasn’t asleep. How could I be when I’ve not heard a word from Callie since I left the house Friday morning?

  Kelsey has been texting, letting me know she did go to the doctor and has a sinus infection, so I’m hoping she’s just tired and resting, not avoiding me.

  Getting out of bed, I walk over to answer the door, not caring that I’m only wearing sweats without a shirt. It’s gotta be one of the other guys, Lathan or Nixon, just bored and wanting to hang out.

/>   I open up without giving it another thought and immediately wish I hadn’t.

  “Hi,” the blonde woman I vaguely recognize from the front desk says with a smile. Instead of her stiff dress shirt uniform, she’s wearing a red dress that isn’t much bigger than Brady’s clothes. And there’s no avoiding her big, fake tits since so much of them are hanging out the top of her sleeveless dress that I can see her areolas.

  “Hi. Can I help you?” I ask and force my eyes back up above her neck, even if it’s pretty obvious why she’s standing outside my door.

  “Are you up for some company?” she asks, licking her lips while her gaze zeros in on the front of my sweats, not the least bit subtle.

  Thinking quick because I don’t want to be a complete asshole to her, I say, “Ah, sorry, sweetheart, but no ladies allowed in our rooms the night before an away game.”

  “Aww,” she replies with a pout. “What about if I find us an empty room?”

  “Can’t tonight,” I lie since that wouldn’t technically be against the rules.

  “Are you sure I can’t change your mind?” she asks, reaching for the waistband of my sweats.

  “Maybe some other time,” I tell her, just to get her to leave. I quickly remove her wrist before she tries to tug down my pants and finds my half-hard cock.

  What can I say? I’m a man, and she’s a pretty woman, standing here nearly topless offering to fuck me. Of course my dick is interested, but not my head or my heart. There’s no way in a million years I would ever cheat on Callie with some slutty hotel chick, or anyone else for that matter, regardless of how my lower body chooses to react. I would rather jerk off tonight to the memories of being with the woman I’m in love with than have the real thing with a nameless jersey chaser.

  “Okay, handsome. Good luck tomorrow,” she says with a wink before she saunters down the hall, swaying her ass with purpose.

  Back inside my room, I lay down and pull my dick out to start stroking it to the memory of Callie in the hotel room back in Baltimore wearing the sexy navy blue and yellow lingerie.

  I wish she were here so I could see it on her again tomorrow. Hell, I just wish she would talk to me.

  I understand why she doesn’t trust me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated by it. If there were something I could do to prove to her I don’t want anyone else, I would. The problem is, there’s not. And what happens to us if she keeps pushing me away like she did this weekend because of it?

  Callie

  Nothing can get me down today, not my flight getting delayed an hour back home because of a thunderstorm, or the fact that when I finally arrived at the stadium in San Francisco half an hour after kickoff, they had already sold out of tickets.

  So, I came back to his hotel, thinking I could head up to Quinton’s room and watch the game there while I wait for him.

  “Hi, I need to get a key for room eight-nineteen,” I tell the young clerk at the desk when it’s finally my turn.

  “Name?” she asks with a smile, her polished fingernails poised over the keyboard.

  “Well, the room is actually in Quinton Dunn’s name, not mine,” I tell her, and she just stares at me like I’m a martian speaking in a language she’s never heard. “I’m his significant other. You’ve probably seen the photos of us together in all the tabloids. My name’s Callie Clarke.”

  “Sorry, but I’m afraid Mr. Dunn doesn’t have you down as a guest so I can’t give you a key to his room,” she says. “I’m sure you can understand that we’re not allowed to just give out keys to anyone who asks for one to a famous quarterback’s room or any other guest, for that matter.”

  “I’m not just anyone to Quinton. I’m…I’m important to him,” I say, nearly spilling the news that I’m carrying his baby before I catch myself. This bitch is trying to drag me down, and it won’t work. Nothing can kill my buzz today.

  “Fine,” I say with a sigh. “Do you have a restaurant with a television so I can grab something to eat and watch the game while I wait for him?”

  “Sure, right through those doors,” she says, pointing to the double doors on my left.

  “Great, thanks,” I tell her, wheeling my luggage in that direction. Of course the place is crowded with everyone eating while watching the game. There’s a thirty-minute wait before I’m given a booth, and I’m finally able to relax a little. The game is already in the fourth quarter, and the Wildcats are up by nine. Thank goodness.

  I sip my water while I watch and wait for my burger and fries, giving in to my craving for greasy food. It’s still hard to believe that I’m pregnant and having cravings. The cramps have been coming and going, so I hope the doctor was right that they’re normal and nothing to worry about. Tomorrow, when we get back home, I’ll call and make an appointment with my obstetrician. Because I’m over thirty-five, I know that my pregnancy will be treated as high risk.

  The hotel food is delicious; and after the Wildcats win, I decide to splurge on a piece of chocolate cake since it will probably be another hour or so before the team gets showers and the bus returns to the hotel.

  Once I’m finished, I pay my tab and then wheel my suitcase back out into the lobby to wait for the players to arrive, ready to surprise Quinton with my presence and the news. While I’m waiting, I get a text from Quinton asking how I’m feeling and telling me they won. I want to reply back, but I’ve waited this long to surprise him, so I put my phone away to avoid the temptation of spoiling it. My knee bounces impatiently, and my heart begins to race knowing he’ll be here any minute.

  Sure enough, the buses pull up out front, and the lobby is soon packed with people and players. Since the Wildcats are the visitors who just beat the home team, not everyone is a fan of theirs. Some shout obscenities, and then there’s pushing and shoving. Security guards show up to help the players get through, including Quinton. I yell his name, but he doesn’t hear me before he gets on the elevator with a group of his teammates and disappears upstairs.

  Well, that was disappointing, but at least I know his room number.

  It takes several minutes to squeeze onto an elevator, and then I’m on my way to the eighth floor, smiling to myself, wondering how Quinton will react to the news. Weeks ago, when we first started this arrangement, I wasn’t entirely sure if he would be looking forward to being a father again so soon, especially since Brady was such an unexpected surprise in his life. Now, I’m almost certain he’ll be excited.

  Taking a deep breath outside of his room, I finally raise my knuckles to knock.

  When the door swings opens, I’m certain I must have the wrong room.

  Instead of Quinton, there’s a big breasted blonde standing in front of me. And I’m not one to usually notice the size of another woman’s breasts, but it’s impossible not to on this woman since she’s naked except for a pair of skimpy pink panties and heels, holding what could pass as a dress in her hands.

  “Callie?” Quinton’s voice asks, and then I see him, standing in the middle of the room, looking at me over the naked woman’s shoulder. “Callie, what are you doing here?” he asks as he starts toward me. “You need to get the fuck out,” he looks down and says to the girl when he’s right beside her.

  “I was, just as soon as I get dressed again,” she tells him with a smile before she slips the dress over her head and pulls it leisurely down her hips, not the least bit hurried. It’s the equivalent of watching two high-speed trains colliding on the track in exaggerated slow motion. When there’s impact, everything erupts into flames. It’s a perfect representation of the catastrophic state of my life. I survived the first collision but never prepared myself to go through this moment of epic heartbreak yet again.

  With the handle of my luggage still in my clenched fist, I turn around and rush back to the elevators.

  “Callie, wait!” Quinton yells from behind me as I hit the button to call the elevator over and over again. “It’s not what it looks like,” he has the audacity to say, making a sobbing laugh bubble up out
of my mouth since it’s so fucking cliché and absurd.

  “Callie, please give me a chance to explain,” he says, spinning me around to face him. I can’t bear to look at his face, so I keep my eyes on the center of his Wildcats tee. “I just got back, and when I walked into my room, she was in there, waiting for me. She must have gotten a key to my room.”

  Unable to speak, I shake my head in disbelief since I tried to get a freaking key to his room and the hotel refused me.

  Thankfully, the elevator door dings behind me, my escape from this nightmare, and it gives me the courage to tell Quinton, “I’m taking you to court for custody of Brady.”

  “What?” he staggers back and asks, his eyes wide in shock. “No, Callie. Please don’t say that…”

  The elevator doors shut, and I can’t hold back the tears any longer. I’m angry at him, but mostly I’m angry at myself for trusting him. That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I should have known better.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Quinton

  “No, no, no. This cannot be happening,” I mutter to myself as I run down the stairway as fast as I can to get to the first floor and stop Callie from leaving.

  I came up to my room when we got back to the hotel to try and call her, only to find the hotel bitch naked in my bed. As soon as I saw her, I yelled at her to get dressed and leave. Then she had to take her sweet ass time, climbing off the bed and bending over in front of me to put her panties on. That’s about the time Callie knocked, showing up at the worst possible time. Of course she thought I fucked the girl; and no matter what I say, she’ll probably never believe the truth because that’s exactly what it looked like.

  Pushing open the stairway door to the lobby, I run through it, looking through the crowd of people trying to find Callie and coming up empty. Outside, there are a million cars coming and going, but she’s nowhere to be found.

  “Fuck!” I shout in frustration wanting to slam my fists through the concrete.