My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
You are reading My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate, Chapter 4: Chapter 4. Read more chapters of My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate.
The tense silence was shattered by a phone's shrill ring.
Nathan Lowell's jaw clenched as he muttered a curse under his breath. He yanked out his phone, and the second the caller ID flashed, his face went rigid. Swallowing his annoyance, he bit out, "Yeah, Coach. What's going on?"
The others crowded in, straining to hear. Within seconds, their expressions soured—shoulders slumping, mouths twisting in frustration.
The second Nathan hung up, they groaned in unison. "Unbelievable. Of all times to call us in," someone muttered.
Marcus Evans checked his watch with a scowl. "It's past midnight. What the hell's so urgent?" His thoughts flickered to his boyfriend, still sprawled drunk on the couch. "What about Oliver? He's out cold."
Nathan dragged a hand through his hair, restless energy crackling off him before his gaze locked onto me.
From the hushed argument, it was clear—the coach wasn't taking no for an answer.
After a reluctant back-and-forth, they gave in. Better to show up than risk pissing him off.
Nathan's eyes darkened as he stared at me, fist tightening at his side. Then he leaned in, his whisper rough with promise: "Don't overthink it. We've got time." With that, he straightened and barked orders, herding the guys toward the next room to haul Oliver up.
Minutes later, the apartment emptied, the door clicking shut behind them. The sudden silence pressed in, heavy and unnatural. My head cleared, and guilt hit me like a freight train.
I'd moved out of the dorms after getting serious with my boyfriend, renting a tiny place off-campus. By the time I stumbled inside, it was deep into the night.
I was seconds from face-planting into bed when my phone lit up—unknown caller.
The blaring ringtone jolted me wide awake. I fumbled for it, breath catching as I answered.
"Evelyn." That voice—deep, familiar—sent my thoughts screeching to a halt.
My pulse spiked. "...Nathan?"
"Yeah."
I shot upright, blood roaring in my ears. "How did you—?"
"Oliver's phone."
My throat went dry. "It's... the middle of the night. What do you want?"
A low laugh curled through the line, hot and knowing. My face burned.
Then—
"I'm outside your building."
For a heartbeat, I stopped breathing. Then I scrambled for my jacket, heart hammering. "Be right down."
Nathan Lowell's jaw clenched as he muttered a curse under his breath. He yanked out his phone, and the second the caller ID flashed, his face went rigid. Swallowing his annoyance, he bit out, "Yeah, Coach. What's going on?"
The others crowded in, straining to hear. Within seconds, their expressions soured—shoulders slumping, mouths twisting in frustration.
The second Nathan hung up, they groaned in unison. "Unbelievable. Of all times to call us in," someone muttered.
Marcus Evans checked his watch with a scowl. "It's past midnight. What the hell's so urgent?" His thoughts flickered to his boyfriend, still sprawled drunk on the couch. "What about Oliver? He's out cold."
Nathan dragged a hand through his hair, restless energy crackling off him before his gaze locked onto me.
From the hushed argument, it was clear—the coach wasn't taking no for an answer.
After a reluctant back-and-forth, they gave in. Better to show up than risk pissing him off.
Nathan's eyes darkened as he stared at me, fist tightening at his side. Then he leaned in, his whisper rough with promise: "Don't overthink it. We've got time." With that, he straightened and barked orders, herding the guys toward the next room to haul Oliver up.
Minutes later, the apartment emptied, the door clicking shut behind them. The sudden silence pressed in, heavy and unnatural. My head cleared, and guilt hit me like a freight train.
I'd moved out of the dorms after getting serious with my boyfriend, renting a tiny place off-campus. By the time I stumbled inside, it was deep into the night.
I was seconds from face-planting into bed when my phone lit up—unknown caller.
The blaring ringtone jolted me wide awake. I fumbled for it, breath catching as I answered.
"Evelyn." That voice—deep, familiar—sent my thoughts screeching to a halt.
My pulse spiked. "...Nathan?"
"Yeah."
I shot upright, blood roaring in my ears. "How did you—?"
"Oliver's phone."
My throat went dry. "It's... the middle of the night. What do you want?"
A low laugh curled through the line, hot and knowing. My face burned.
Then—
"I'm outside your building."
For a heartbeat, I stopped breathing. Then I scrambled for my jacket, heart hammering. "Be right down."
End of My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate book page.