“You got a little crush on the doc?” he asked in a wheedling voice. I cut my eyes at him, but he yelled out for the whole room to hear, “Hey, guys. Ax here has some ooey gooey feelings for Li’l Doc, so everyone, make sure not to flirt with her at all.”

“You asshole,” I muttered without much animosity. He had just assured that every single guy in the locker room would flirt endlessly with Blaire now. I called out to the room, “Ignore what he said. She’s a married woman, so no crushing going on here. Carry on.”

A chorus of “Mmhmmms” and “Yeah rights” sounded around the room, and I made a mental note to try and get some blood pressure medicine until these jackasses got it out of their systems.

After my shower, I was getting dressed when Tyrone Orwood, one of the best linebackers in the league, approached me. “Hey, Ax. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, Ty. What’s up?”

Several other players were standing around in various stages of undress, so he lowered his voice. “That doctor lady, she’s married to that guy she was with at the party this weekend? Something Cavanaugh?”

“Evan Cavanaugh. Yeah, that’s her husband. Why?” My curiosity was piqued.

Orwood frowned. “Uh-huh. That’s the dude. How long they been married?” At my shrug, he said, “Well, I think he’s stepping out on her.”

I practically screamed, “WHAT?” At my outburst, several of the guys started listening in, but I didn’t give a damn. All I cared about was hearing what Orwood had to say about Blaire’s marriage.

“Yup, he dated my cousin earlier this year. They went out for about six months,” Orwood said confidently. “He even came to our July Fourth party at my grandma’s house.” Holy shit. That was last month! That motherfucker!

“Ohhhhh, dayum!” Jones said, and I had to say I agreed with his assessment of the situation.

After muttering a quick, “Thanks,” to Orwood, I stormed out of the locker room. After my meeting with the coach, I jogged out to my truck in the parking lot. Though it was technically none of my business, I wanted to drive straight to Blaire’s house and tell her what I’d learned, but I knew that probably wasn’t the best idea. I had hurt her enough, and I didn’t really want to be the one to break the news to her about her dear hubby.

Instead, I drove to my brother’s house and banged on the door like a madman. He slung open the door, his eyes fierce and narrow when he saw it was me. “Jesus, man. Are you trying to break down the damn door?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Look, I need someone to talk to. Can we go get a drink?”