Playing to Win (The Trouble with Tomboys Book2)

by Stephanie Street

  Wait.

  Tilting my head, I strained my ears to listen.

  What was that?

  Jordan, Jordan.

  I know you can hear me.

  Why won’t you come near me?

  I’m writing this song for you-ooh, ooh.

  My entire body flared with heat. He kept singing and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning.

  I’m gonna keep singing this ridiculous song

  Until you come outside and sing along.

  “Come on, Jordan!” he shouted.

  I closed my eyes. Someone would hear him. No part of me wanted anyone in my house to hear him singing to me from the backyard. But how to get him to stop?

  Jordan, Jordan.

  I know you can here me.

  But what about your dad?

  Don’t you think he’ll be mad?

  For goodness sake! I moved to the window. Asher stood under my window, grinning like a fool.

  “Do all your songs rhyme?” I called down.

  “You know they don’t, you little eavesdropper. Now, come down here!” He kept plucking at his guitar, watching me.

  I bit my lip and his smile widened.

  “You know you want to!”

  He was right. I did want to. What could possibly go wrong in my own backyard? I’d just go down there, hang out for a few minutes, and then make up some excuse to leave. Like I had to finish my homework. Or wash my hair.

  “Alright, alright. I’ll be down in a second. Just be quiet.” Using both hands, I closed the window. I’d thrown on leggings and a fitted tee after my shower, so I tossed a hoodie over my head, then slipped into a pair of flip-flops. My hair was a hopeless mess after my shower. I settled for running a brush through it then taming it into a ponytail.

  “Where you headed?” Dad asked as soon as I rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs. He sat on the sectional in front of the television, Mom curled at his side.

  “Just out back,” I replied, praying he wouldn’t ask anymore questions.

  Dad frowned a little but he didn’t say anything. I decided to hurry before he changed his mind. Or went to investigate.

  Outside, Asher paced the grass between our houses, his guitar hanging around his middle as he picked different notes from the strings. He mumbled words and phrases, but when he turned and spotted me, a happy grin split his handsome face and he laughed as his fingers played the melody I’d been humming earlier when he caught me.

  “Oh, stop!” I called out playfully, but his smile only grew.

  “What? I thought you liked this song,” he teased me.

  “I never said that.”

  He laughed again. “Whatever. You know you do.”

  It would take a lot more than his teasing to get me to admit it, thought.

  “If this is just going to be you fishing for compliments,” I raised my voice to sound like a groupie, “Oh, Asher, you’re such a good singer, swoon!” I rolled my eyes and spoke in my normal voice. “Then, I’ll just go back inside.”

  “No, no, don’t go.” He grabbed hold of my wrist, pulling me back around. “And please, don’t ever talk like that again. Let’s just go into my office and chat for a little while.” He pulled me toward a set of wrought iron patio furniture in a cluster of low bushes at the base of a shade tree in his yard.

  I raised one brow. “This is your office?”

  He dropped my hand and sighed as he glanced around. “I know. It’s a little sparse and the furniture makes my butt fall asleep, but it is what it is.” He pointed to the single chair. “Sit. Please.”

  There was a single chair and a narrow loveseat. I took the chair he indicated while Asher sat in the center of the love seat, propping his guitar on his knee. His fingers plucked at the strings almost absently, his attention focused solely on me.

  “I’m glad you came down.”

  “You didn’t really give me much choice.” Glancing at the ground near his feet, I noticed a handful of guitar picks littering the grass. I bent down to pick one up, holding it in the space between us. “Lose something?”

  His fingers squeaked on the strings before he reached for it. “All the time. I have about a hundred of them up in my room.”

  “You don’t use them all the time?” I asked.

  He shook his head as he began to play again, this time using the pick. “No. Listen.” He played and I did indeed listen, fascinated by the sound, even more beautiful close up than it had been drifting through my window. If that were possible.

  “Now, listen to this.” He tucked the pick between his teeth and played using just his fingers. The motions were different and the difference was subtle, but I did hear it.

  He glanced up at me. “Hear it?”

  I nodded. “How long have you been playing?”

  “My dad said I was born with a guitar in my hands. I don’t have any memories of not being able to play.”

  “What are you like some prodigy?” How did a little kid learn how to play the guitar?

  Asher laughed, and it struck me anew how much I liked his appearance.

  “No, not at all. My mom,” he gave me a look, “my biological mom, she’s really talented. My dad says I’m a lot like her.”

  “Your biological mom?”

  “Yeah, my parents divorced when I was two.” He started picking out a melody I hadn’t heard before. I tried to imagine what I would be like to have songs in my head like he did.

  “So, you live with your dad?”

  He nodded. “And my step-mom, Shari.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  “A little brother, Caleb. He’s ten months old.”

  “A baby?”

  Asher grinned. “You like babies?”

  I scoffed. “Who doesn’t like babies?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a couple of taps, he handed it to me. “Here’s a picture.”

  “Oh my gosh! He’s so cute.” The picture showed a tiny baby, younger than ten months, propped on a pair of legs I assumed were Asher’s.

  “Scroll through. I have a million.” He started playing again, and I thought he did it without even thinking.

  I scrolled through his pictures. He hadn’t been lying. There were a lot of pictures of Caleb and quite a few with Asher, too, selfies of him making faces for the camera and Caleb laughing.

  I stopped on one of Caleb playing in a toilet, grinning adorably. Lifting one brow, I tilted it toward Asher.

  “Hey!” he cried, trying to take the phone away from me but I held it out of his reach. “I forgot that was on there. Shari would kill me if she saw it. I was supposed to be watching him when that happened.”

  “You were babysitting and you let him play in the toilet?” Shaking my head, I made a tsk-ing sound with my tongue as I studied the picture again.

  “I got distracted, okay? And I totally gave him a bath and even brushed his three teeth to be on the safe side. I’ve learned my lesson, too. I’m an amazing babysitter now.”

  I scrolled through a couple more pictures before giving Asher his phone back. “He’s really cute.”

  Asher slipped his phone back into his pocket. “He really is,” he said, his dark eyes meeting mine, holding me captive. “But I think we need to talk about your eavesdropping some more.”

  Asher

  The need to tease her had become irresistible. She liked listening to me sing and play, I knew she did. And it was intoxicating.

  “It’s not really eavesdropping,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “You play outside where the whole world can hear you.”

  “Hmmm. I guess that’s true,” I replied before slipping into the lyrics of the song I’d written a long time ago about friends, and love, and loss. I never took my eyes away from her as I sang.

  I played the last note and silence hung between us.

  “Did you write that?”

  I nodded, desperately wishing she’d tell me what she thought. I kind of felt like I knew she liked
my music, why would she have listened for so long if she didn’t, but I still wanted to hear her say it. Maybe someday.

  “You’re really good, you know.”

  She made a face. “What are you talking about? I can’t sing or play guitar.”

  I grinned. “No, that’s not what I meant.” I cleared my throat. “I mean hockey.”

  Her open expression closed a little and I felt a twinge of panic. I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want to make her angry, either.

  She shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  “Okay?” I scoffed. “Jordan, you’re amazing.” I didn’t say it just to say it. “I mean it.”

  She met my gaze with a direct one of her own. “Not as good as you.”

  I didn’t deny it because she told the truth. “You want it more.”

  For a long moment, she held my eyes, searching for some truth. If she asked me, I’d tell her. Right then, I knew I’d tell her anything.

  Finally, she found it, what she’d been looking for. “Hockey isn’t your passion.” A statement.

  I shook my head. “No.” Notes began to form in my mind, a pattern I wanted to explore. My fingers moved, creating the sound in my head.

  Jordan watched, mesmerized for a moment before she snapped out of it. “But you like it? Hockey?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t hate it.” I just didn’t love it enough. I had to push myself, motivated only by my music. “My dad wants me to play.”

  Jordan frowned.

  And I had a feeling I knew exactly what went through her head. In all probability, I’d start in our first game. And she’d play off the bench. She’d have playing time, lots of it, but my size and strength paired with my knowledge of the game surpassed her combined abilities.

  I would take her spot and I didn’t even want to play. I saw it the moment it dawned on her.

  She jumped up.

  I scrambled to my feet. “Jordan, wait!”

  She’d made it almost to her back door before I caught up to her.

  “Look, I’m sorry!”

  She whirled around to face me, her expression murderous. “You’re better than me. Fine. That’s my problem not yours. I’m not afraid to work. But you don’t even want it?”

  What could I say? She was right.

  “You don’t make it to this level for fun, Asher. Everyone on that team is there because they want it.”

  I heard what she said. She wanted it. To go on and play at the highest level she could achieve.

  “You don’t understand.” I would quit the team right that very minute if I could. My dad assumed I’d change my mind. He thought I’d get a taste of winning and I’d develop a competitive streak. Nothing I said would change his mind. I’d just have to prove him wrong. Until then, as he loved to remind me, I lived under his roof, drove his car, ate his food. And for all that, I had to keep playing hockey.

  Even if it meant robbing Jordan of her dream.

  When I graduated high school, everything would be different. I wouldn’t be under his thumb, wouldn’t have to live by his rules.

  “You’re right. I don’t understand. You don’t get to this level of play without expectations, Asher. It’s not just me. It’s everyone on the team. We all have the dream to play professional hockey.”

  What she didn’t say- my being on the team took that shot away from someone else who wanted it. Someone like her, even though she was already on the team.

  “It’s more complicated than that. My dad-” I broke off. She didn’t need to know all my secrets. “It’s just…complicated.”

  Jordan shook her head. “Seems simple to me.”

  She wasn’t being fair. “You don’t know everything.”

  “You’re right. I definitely don’t know you.” And then she walked away.

  Damn it!

  Brimming with frustration, I turned away from her. It was easy for her to judge! She’d been doing nothing but sorting me into boxes since we met. Stalking up to the house, I whipped the back door open, then slammed it shut once I made it inside.

  “Asher!” Shari looked up, her eyes wide. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” I answered, heading for the stairs.

  “Who was that girl you were talking to?” she called.

  “Nobody!” I shouted over my shoulder.

  Nobody.

  The biggest lie of them all.

  In two weeks time, I’d fallen into the deepest crush I’d ever experienced in my life for a girl who hated my guts.

  Chapter Eight

  Jordan

  For the next week, I avoided Asher as much as possible. I didn’t open my window, didn’t listen to him practice his music, and more than anything else, I didn’t search for him in the halls at school.

  Okay. Maybe I did. But only because I couldn’t help myself. Something about him drew me against my will. It could have been those pictures of him with his little brother. Or maybe his good looks. Or even the depth of feeling in his song lyrics. Whatever it was, I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to push it away, push him away.

  Worst of all, I’d come to the conclusion I had no right to be angry with him. He’d made the team, same as me. I couldn’t blame him for being a better player. My failures were just that, my own. Realizing my anger came from my own pride made me angry…at myself.

  Which didn’t help my attitude. At all.

  Finally, Friday rolled around again. One more day of practice before the weekend. The next day both Natalie and Kelly had sports in town and I planned to spend the day watching my friends compete, while trying to forget all about Asher, his song, and how much I didn’t want to like him.

  Once school ended, I hurried out to my car and shoved the key into the ignition.

  Nothing.

  “What?” I murmured and tried again. No dice.

  Crap. Now what was I going to do? I could call Joe, but he lived on the other side of town. Mom should be at home, but who knew. She could be out running errands. Dad would already be at the rink by now.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through my favorites folder until Joe’s name popped up. My thumb hovered over the call button when a knock sounded on my window.

  Asher.

  Of course.

  I gave him a what do you want? face. He lifted his brow as if to say isn’t it obvious. I waved for him to open the door.

  “What are you doing? Is something wrong?” he asked as soon as he opened the door.

  “My car won’t start.”

  He sat down in the passenger side seat and frowned. “Try to start it.”

  I turned the key in the ignition. “See? Nothing.”

  “Want to jump it? We can use my car, but I don’t have any cables.”

  Ugh. “I don’t, either. I think they’re in Joe’s car.” He’d gotten himself a used car before he moved out. A couple of months ago, his battery kept dying so he’d held onto the jumper cables. I’d never had an issue with this car, so I hadn’t been worried about it.

  Asher checked the time on his phone. “We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry. I’ll give you a ride and you can let your dad know about your car.”

  Without waiting to see what I’d say, he got out of my car. He paused before closing the door to glance back at me.

  “Coming?”

  Practice started in just a few minutes. Chances were Joe had already arrived at the rink. Asher had to be at the same place as me. Refusing the ride would be silly.

  But that didn’t mean I wanted to get into his car. At. All.

  “Jordan, come on. We’re going to the same place.” His dark eyes held mine. “What are you afraid of?”

  Nothing. I wasn’t afraid of anything.

  I grabbed my bag and marched to his car. Before I could sit down, our eyes met over the roof.

  “What?” I asked with more irritation than he deserved considering he’d saved me from having to call Joe or wait for my mom.

  One side of his mouth curved up. “Nothing.
Let’s go.”

  I plopped down on the soft leather covering the front seat, my head falling back against the headrest. His car still had a new car smell and it was so clean my cheeks heated thinking of him sitting in our junker with fast food wrappers and dirty socks on the floor, even if it had only been for a moment.

  His long fingers pushed a button to start the car. Fancy. He pulled out of the parking lot and turned in the direction of the rink.

  “So…” He shifted in his seat. “How’s it going?”

  I rolled my head to the side and glared at him. “Fine. And you?”

  His lips twitched. “Fine.” He glanced away from the road to look at me for a split second. “Heard any good music lately?”

  “No. Not really.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough.” He turned down a side street to avoid the stop lights on the main road. “How are your friends? Where are their names?” His eyes squinted. “Natalie and Kelly?”

  “They’re fine.”

  Asher stopped at a stop sign. “Good talk. We should do this again sometime.”

  I rolled my head again, this time to look out the window while I pondered a witty comeback. Instead, I saw-

  “Wait! Stop the car!” If I hadn’t been so determined to avoid Asher’s gaze I might have missed it, missed him.

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  Too afraid to turn away from the window, I blindly reached for his forearm and squeezed. “Please. Just pull over.” I pointed to an empty spot on the curb. “Right there. Hurry!”

  To his credit, Asher didn’t ask any more questions as he maneuvered his car to the side of the road and parked.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, but I didn’t have time for stupid questions.

  Yanking on the handle, I burst through the car door. “Payton!” Not even bothering to close the door, I took off running after my brother. “Payton!”