Free Intercepting Daisy by Julie Brannagh Page B

cities in the league suffered with, but the wind off the lake penetrated his bones. He’d like to get a couple of miles in before he had to lift and not expire from hypothermia.
    â€œIt didn’t go well, then,” Seth said. “He’s telling you there’s a chance, Morrison.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” Grant said.
    â€œWell, then, maybe you should enlighten us. Did you get to second base?” Kade said.
    â€œDon’t talk shit about Daisy. She takes good care of us,” Kyle called out. “Maybe we should ask Parker if he asked her out again instead.”
    Fifty-two sets of eyes swiveled to focus on Grant Parker.
    â€œAnd?” Zach Anderson said.
    â€œWe have another date next week,” Grant said. He pulled the hoodie on and grabbed for his headphones. His teammates nodded at each other. He’d asserted himself, and now every guy on the team knew she was off-limits.
    â€œIt’s back to trolling the bars for you, Morrison,” Taylor said.
    D AISY ’ S WEEK PASSED in a whirlwind of trips to various West Coast airports and counting the days until she would see Grant again. She hadn’t had a chance to talk with him during last Friday’s team flight, but he sent her a text the next morning.
    Looking forward to Thursday
    She was, too.
    She awoke from a fitful sleep in the wee hours of Thursday morning. The quarter moon made a pattern on her bedroom wall through the blinds covering the window. She’d felt a little weird earlier in the evening but had hoped it would pass if she got a good night’s sleep. It appeared she was wrong.
    She’d kicked all of her blankets off, her stomach hurting. Daisy reached up to feel her forehead; it felt unusually warm as she shivered with cold. She tried to sit up to grab the blankets, but it wasn’t a good move.
    Daisy threw herself off the bed and ran to the bathroom.
    Ten minutes later, she was lying on the bathroom tile and scrabbling around for anything to wipe her mouth with when she heard Catherine’s voice.
    â€œAre you okay, love? Do you need help?”
    â€œI’m sick. Don’t come in here,” Daisy said.
    â€œDon’t be silly. I got a flu shot. Everyone who didn’t was sick on my flight the other day.”
    Everyone was sick on Daisy’s flight the other day too, but she was hoping it was a fluke.
    Catherine stepped over Daisy and rinsed the washcloth that was always on the bathroom sink. “How about a washcloth?”
    â€œThank you,” Daisy muttered as Catherine put the now-damp washcloth into her hand. “Please tell me I’m not dying.”
    â€œYou’re not dying.” Catherine crouched down next to Daisy and felt her forehead. “You have a fever, though. Good job on making it to the loo in time.”
    â€œYay, me,” Daisy said. The bathroom floor was freezing, but she was close to the toilet. Right now, it was the little things. Maybe Catherine would bring her a blanket if she asked nicely. “Do I have to get up?”
    â€œLet’s get you off that floor. Come on.”
    â€œBut it’s close to the toilet.” Daisy wondered if there was some kind of connection between barfing and the tear ducts. She wiped her mouth and flipped the washcloth over so she could wipe her face with it. She was a tear-dripping mess.
    â€œI can get you a basin,” Catherine said. She reached under Daisy’s arms and pulled her to her feet. After some frantic gesturing by Daisy, Catherine left the bathroom when the inevitable happened again.
    â€œAre you sure I’m not dying?” Daisy moaned.
    Catherine pressed the freshly re-rinsed washcloth into Daisy’s hand. “You’re not going to die. I’ll get you a basin, you’re going back to bed, and we’re calling Operations to tell them you’re ill.”
    â€œI can’t go out with Grant later if I’m barfing.”
    â€œAre you