Hale: A Single Dad Sports Romance (Hale Brothers)

“Hale!” I whip my head toward Vavro’s voice. “You’re next.”

“Okay.” I run in his direction, energy surging through my veins.

Today’s practice has been typical. We warmed up by jogging around the pitch and then stretched, to improve our agility and increase our range of motion. What I love about football is that it works the whole body, even if the main focus is on legs. But guys love to make fun of this part of practice. No matter the team or the country, it’s always the same.

Racing each other motivates us to run faster, and that’s exactly what I was doing before I started to practice my dribbling skills—something I’m really good at, but I don’t let my arrogance overrule me. I still have things to learn and skills to improve. Being in top shape is what I love the most.

I should be practicing passing, but the coach, who’s standing near Vavro, wants me to practice shooting. After playing football for as many years as I have, my skills should be immaculate, but only continuous practice makes perfect.

“Coach.” I stop near Coach Larson, wearing a polite smile. He’s been moody all day, so I have no idea what to expect. When I shift my gaze to Vavro, I see the guy grinning. “Marek.”

“How do you feel about starting next game?” Coach gets straight to the point. “I want to give this last game of the regular season our best shot, and that means you’re on the field from start to finish. Ideally.”

“I’m all in.” I shrug, and a drop of sweat slides down my temple and onto my cheek. Flexing my muscles, an itching feeling forms in my legs. I fucking need action. I hate standing by and doing nothing when I’m on the pitch.

Coach sweeps his gaze over my face and then starts to nod in approval. “I knew it was the right decision to hire you, Hale. You’ve been a valuable addition to our team. A new leader. Someone who doesn’t want to be, but still is.”

“You’re giving me way too much credit, Coach.” I laugh, and it sounds like a barking dog. Fuck. I don’t have time to look for water, but I hear my name again, and Vavro tosses me a bottle. “Thanks, Marek.”

“Don’t mention it.” He jumps a few times and then sets his legs wide, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. I keep watching him, and a smug smirk forms on my lips. That won’t help you against me. If I want to score, I will. I always do.

Ten shots later, Marek is seething. He runs a hand through his blond hair; his whole face is red with anger. I scored ten out of ten, without giving him a single chance to stop the ball. The Coach laughs, placing a hand on his stomach.

“Are you sure we don’t need another goalkeeper for Saturday?”

“Hundred percent,” Vavro grits through his teeth. He claps his hands together. “One more time, Hale.”

“You want me to make it eleven?” I set my foot on the ball, rolling it back and forth while holding his gaze.

“Ten. Ten will be your record,” he snaps. He jumps into the air, hitting the top of the net with his hands. He’s pissed, and I’m going to use that in my favor.

I jog away from the net, dribbling the ball and preparing myself for another shot. I’m calm and collected as I take a deep breath through my nostrils. There isn’t a trace of the irritation and annoyance I felt days ago. Everything is gone because of her.

The sudden sound of a whistle brings me back to reality. I focus and sprint toward the net, zigzagging until I’m in the best position for the shot. My motion is swift, and it’s barely noticeable when I kick the ball. It lands low in the bottom corner of the net. Eleven. And Vavro isn’t fucking happy.

“Thank you for destroying my motivation,” he growls, taking the ball into his hands and squeezing it hard.

“I think it’s exactly the motivation you need. You’ll want to play better on Saturday, so no one from Nashville scores,” I tell him as he continues to glare at me. “Don’t let your anger overwhelm you during the game. You can always focus on that later…if you still feel the need.”

Vavro shifts from one leg to the other, puffing his cheeks. Then he suddenly heaves a sigh and nods. “You’re right, Hale. I can use this as an example of how I shouldn’t play if I want us to win.”

“Glad my idea worked,” Coach mutters, and we shoot him a quick glance. “If we win on Saturday, we’ll get the Supporters’ Shield. It will give us a great boost before playoffs.”

“Winning the Supporters’ Shield will suit us perfectly,” Marek states, grinning. His broody mood has disappeared, and now he’s full of determination.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Calling shots before the game is a bad omen.” Coach waves his hand dismissively, then looks at the other players on the pitch. “It’s time for an inter-squad scrimmage, guys. Show me what you’ve got.”

“With pleasure,” Vavro and I exclaim at the same time. Then we nod at each other and follow Coach over to the rest of the team. It’s time for a little game, and I’m here for it.

My sports bag hangs over my shoulder as I walk to my car. I can’t wait to get home, soak my aching muscles in a hot bath, and have a quiet moment with Story. Well, I also hope to get Piper all to myself so I can convince her to have a little fun once my daughter goes to bed. It’s been three days without any physical contact, and my cock is desperate to feel her tight little pussy wrap around it. It’s not like she’s avoiding me. A few times, I got to feel her press her round ass to my groin…but that’s nothing compared to what I want to do with her.

“Mr. Hale?”

I halt in my tracks when I notice Autumn Dunn strolling toward me. She’s wearing a light blue bodycon dress and a black leather jacket, her heels making her look taller than she is. Her long brown hair is collected into a bun, and she has on very bright makeup. She stops in front of me, looks me up and down, and then flashes me a big smile.

“How was practice?”

“Hello, Ms. Dunn,” I greet her, furrowing my brows. “Practice was good. Why?”

“Saturday is the last game of the regular season. If LACFC wins, they’ll get the Supporters’ Shield. Are you excited?” She crosses her legs at her ankles, hands hidden in her jacket pockets.

I blink and scowl in an instant. “Is this an interview?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her smile slowly disappearing.

“Then have a nice day.” I keep walking.

“Hunter, wait.” We’re on a first name basis already? She’s annoying.

“What?”

“I was in the neighborhood, and, well…I knew it was a practice day, and that you’d be here. But I’m not stalking you,” she blurts, playing with her earring.

Could have fooled me. “What do you want, Ms. Dunn?”

“Oh God, please don’t call me that. I’m Autumn.” She extends her hand. I roll my eyes, but I take it, give it the quickest squeeze, and let go.

“Nice to meet you, Autumn. Anything else?”

Autumn sighs and then pinches her brows together. “We were an instant match. Why did you delete your swipe?”

It takes me a minute to figure out she’s talking about Tinder. I forgot about that app, this woman, and my mistake the second Piper helped me fix it. I even deleted it on my way home from the club. I knew I wouldn’t be using it. But Autumn Dunn wants answers.

“Maybe this will sound like an excuse, but I honestly never planned to swipe right. I was still getting used to the app, and then I saw you, and my surprise got the best of me. I fixed it the second I realized what I did.” I take out my phone, quickly tap on the screen, and shove it back in my pocket, bringing my gaze back to the reporter.

“But you don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

A loud snort escapes my mouth uncontrollably. “Highly doubt it.”

Her jaw flexes, and the look on her face hardens. She’s not one to take rejection lightly, I can tell. Too bad I don’t give a⁠—

“How about you go on a date with me? Invite me to dinner?”

“Ms. Dunn, do I need to repeat myself? I’m not interested.”

“Aren’t you single? I mean, you were using Tinder, so obviously you are…and I don’t remember any news stories about you having a girlfriend. Unlike your ex-wife.”

“Amelia has a boyfriend, not a girlfriend,” I correct her, throwing her off her high horse and making her turn even redder than she already is.

“Smartass,” Autumn utters, looking away for a second. When she brings her gaze back to me, she looks malicious. “When I heard you were moving to LA, I was dead set on meeting you. I made sure to be at the press conference. You were exactly how I expected you to be, and more. When I saw you on Tinder, I knew it was a sign. We could be a great couple, Hunter, but only if you give me a chance.”

I’m so going to regret this later.

“I can’t say I’m single right now. I have someone in my life, and we’re getting to know each other. As slowly as possible, considering my daughter.”

“I didn’t know. How did you⁠—”

“Ms. Dunn, you’re a very attractive woman, but that’s all there is to it. I’m not interested in being in a relationship or getting to know you.” I extend my hand to her, and she reluctantly takes it. “I hope we can keep things professional.”

“Definitely.” We shake hands, and I step back. The snarky smile on her face makes me cringe. Why is it there? “Though, as a professional, it’s my job to find out who you’re seeing. It’ll be quite a story.”

“She’s not a public person,” I say. I’m still wearing a polite smile, even if I want to strangle her.

“That makes things even more interesting.” Autumn Dunn wiggles her eyebrows at me, making me frown even more. “But if you want to keep me from digging…you know what to do. I’d never say no to a date with you.”

“Duly noted, Ms. Dunn.” I nod and casually saunter toward my car, not giving away the full extent of my anger. This woman has made me furious, and all I want to do right now is make her pay for her blackmail.

As I start my Lexus, I see her car take off. She drives away with a lopsided grin on her face, winking at me as her car passes mine. Revenge is a dish best served cold. If I catch her snooping around, if I find out she’s annoying Piper and Story—her career will end faster than she can say her last name.

My past is my teacher. Years ago, when one of my exes threatened to accuse me of sexual assault because I broke up with her while she was hoping to get a ring on her finger, I learned how to protect myself. Having a voice recorder on standby is my salvation.

Agitation rises inside my chest, spreading through my veins and finding its way into my mind. I need my head on straight…and I need my fix. I need my daughter’s nanny in my bed. No excuses.