by Amber Malloy
“Hey, what are you doing Saturday?” Behind the woman with the super-model good looks, Hawk bugged his pretty eyes open wide. Remy glanced over her shoulder at him before he ducked his head in the opposite direction.
“Say you’re busy,” Lashonda whispered on her way past. More graceful than she could ever be in heels that high, the video vixen of the group had already crossed to the opposite end of the bar.
“We’re throwing this thing for charity.” Remy turned back, pinning her with an intense stare. “You should come.”
“Okay, s-s-sure.”
“You won’t regret it.” Andre chuckled while he licked the buffalo sauce off his fingers.
A shiver of cold ran up her spine as an undercurrent of strange tension pulsed through the group, and she decided to ignore the ‘odd man out’ feeling that washed over her. “Is there something I should bring?”
“No,” Remy cooed, running her hand through her long, silken strands with a far-off gaze. “Your favorite workout gear will suffice. We’re playing dodgeball.”
“Body cast,” Knox coughed out.
“Medical insurance,” Lashonda muttered.
“Sure hope your little ass can throw,” Andre snorted in between his evil overlord-type cackle.
Confused and admittedly a little scared, Lexi locked eyes with Hawk over the bar. She could have sworn pity warmed his hazel gaze. What the hell? She quietly freaked out. It’s dodgeball!
“Hey, if you’re not athletic, it’s no big deal. You’ll be a backup,” Remy told her.
As the small group laughed hard—a little too hard for her taste—that instinctual tingle of doubt rolled into a solid rock and felt heavy in her gut. Andre practically choked on his second basket of buffalo wings laughing hard at…what? My demise?
* * * *
Dog days of summer in Chicago were no joke. Most people sought out air-conditioned shelter. Remy’s annual dodgeball charity event took place two weeks prior to the beginning of Eastern Loyola College’s fall semester. A pretty neighborhood accommodated the college-age youth from the bustling city.
Saturday mornings on the college campus were fairly quiet this time of year. Hawk waited outside the gym, hoping to talk Lexi out of this massacre. Maybe they could go to breakfast or take a walk on the lake front—anything, and he meant anything, other than dodgeball.
“What are you doing!”
“Shit!” he cursed. Caught off guard, Hawk turned around to face one of the three stooges. Yes, he understood that made him a stooge—and no, he wouldn’t admit that out loud.
“Why are you stalking the front door?” Andre chuckled with a mouthful of popcorn. For the smallest one in the group, Andre never stopped eating. The asshole dug deep into his Garrett’s Popcorn bag, while he continued to eye him over the sack.
“Huh? What? No, I-I-I’m—”
“Remy will kill you—and I mean kill.” The grimy mutha fucka plopped a handful of caramel and cheese kernels in his mouth from the Chicago mix, then gleefully chomped away.
Hawk shoved his head in front of Andre’s smug face. “If you snitch, I swear to God I will—” Unlike anyone he’d ever known, Andre could burrow his way underneath his skin and irritate the shit out of him.
“Come on, you two! The damn game hasn’t even started yet.” Knox slapped him on the back and stepped past him to slide in next to Andre. “At least wait until the first round.” He flipped the sunglasses down from the top of his head to hide the dark circles under his eyes.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Hawk said, “but you look like shit.”
“Baby has colic and Remy is…”
“Training,” Andre offered.
“Insane,” Hawk countered.
“Probably pregnant,” Knox grumbled. He brought his coffee to his lips and took a sip after he dropped that bomb.
“Yesss,” Andre hissed. “This game has gotten soooo much better.”
“Wow, man.” Hawk didn’t feel the slightest bit sorry for his friend. “Irish twins… You are definitely going to get your four in no time flat. So do you think maybe Remy should sit this game out?” He threw up a silent prayer, hoping Knox would agree with him.
“Noooo!” Andre screamed.
“And have her use my head for the actual ball? You must be crazy.” Knox dug his knuckle into his eye before he took another swig from his Starbucks’ cup.
“Romeo here was just about to tell his boss…crush…to run.”
“Seriously, Hawk?” Knox moaned.
“No, not crushing,” he rushed out. And what if I am? This evil dodgeball game would certainly put the kibosh on any reciprocal feelings on Lexi’s part. “She’s been through a hard time, and I just want to—”
“Make her feel better with your dick,” Andre cut him off.
“Comfort her with your mouth,” Knox offered.
Avoiding their wide-eyed, goofy stares, he checked over his shoulder to see if Lexi had made it to the campus parking lot and let out a hiss. “Shitheads.”
“Fine… It’s too damn hot to be out here.” Swiping his arm across his brow, Knox wiped the dripping sweat off. “Suggest a fake injury, but don’t warn her to leave. Remy will kill you.” Knox tapped Andre on the shoulder and nodded toward the door.
Hawk waited for them to go into the gym before he dug his phone out of his pocket. Maybe she was still at the bar and he could catch her.
“How big is this thing? I thought it was a small event…you know, for kids?” He turned toward the sweet sound of her voice. Dressed in a pink tank top and yoga pants, the sight of the pretty bar owner made the corner of his lips twitch upward. Forcing his eyes to not drift away from her kewpie-doll-shaped face to check out her sweet body, Hawk had to concentrate.
As the sun caressed her warm, brown skin, little wet curls covered the top of her head. He didn’t want to come off like one of those perverted leeches she dealt with on a daily basis at Moe’s. However, despite the impending danger they were both about to put their lives in, Hawk couldn’t contain his smile. Fuck, she’s hot!
“Want some breakfast?” Grabbing her shoulder, he turned her in the opposite direction.
“What?”
“Yeah, this thing won’t be starting on time.” He led her away from the gym.
“But Remy said—”
Blood rushed through his veins in a flight or fright response. “We can get a quick bite, then come back—”
“Hawk!” Remy called out somewhere nearby.
“Shit!” His insides locked. Picking up his speed, he rushed them into the opposite direction.
“I swear, Hawk.”
What the hell? He was a world-class athlete, who’d brought two Olympic medals and a championship trophy to Chicago. How can my best friend’s wife strike fear in my heart worse than a six-foot-six-inch hockey player?
“Left something in the car,” he lied.
“Is that so?” Remy stepped in front of them with her gang of batshit crazy preschool moms. “Could have sworn I passed by your motorcycle in the lot.”
“Gwarkwahhh.” He worked his mouth, but unintelligible words slipped out.
“Hey, girl, glad you came.” The powder keg of crazy reached out to interlock her arm with Lexi’s. “Why don’t I take you inside while Hawk figures out what he needs from his ghost car?”
Remy and her gang yanked Lexi from his grip.
As he trailed behind, Hawk’s boss-crush peered over her shoulder with a confused expression and wide eyes. Powerless to help her, he did the only thing he could.
“Run,” he muttered to her. “Fucking run.”
Chapter Seven
Trapped between Black Panther’s Dora Milaje guards, Lexi snuck a glimpse over her shoulder. The concern from a moment ago had been replaced with stark horror—or maybe it was closer to pity that she read on Hawk’s big, strong face.
“Don’t listen to him. This is nothing more than a friendly game of dodgeball for charity.”
“A squeami
sh hockey player… Where do they make them?” Everyone laughed at the pre-school mom’s joke.
She tried ignoring the spindly fingers of nerves that crept along her spine while they stalked the empty halls of the college gymnasium before they stopped at the double doors.
“Honestly”—Remy held the metal handle in her grip—“you’ll be nothing more than a bench warmer.”
Isn’t that what they tell kids before they get a vaccine shot? Don’t worry. This won’t hurt…and of course it’s the worst pain they’ve ever felt in their entire little lives. Lexi wanted to ask why a six-foot-four-inch giant had freaked out about one puny game of dodgeball, when the sexy mom pushed the door open to a surge of screams.
“Oh wow, I thought this would be a…” Lexi faced an enormous crowd.
“We’re playing for the animal shelter,” one of the players said.
“Sorry, Charlie, but we’re taking a vote this year.”
As the women argued over which charity would get their winnings, Lexi took a seat on the nearest bench and instantly regretted not heeding Hawk’s advice to put rubber to pavement and leave.
Wall-to-wall people covered the gymnasium. Lexi scanned the crowd. College students and what she figured were neighboring residents cheered from the bleachers. Face paint covered many of their psychotic faces.
“Uh, aren’t they playing?” she asked one of the women closest to her. The crowd got louder when Hawk, Knox and Andre made their way to a cordoned-off area.
“Who?”
Lexi jerked her thumb in the direction of the hot alpha beasts’ bleacher.
“Oh, that’s the VIP section. Professional athletes aren’t allowed to play.”
“But—” The other side of the court filled up with men and women wearing Local 301 Fire Station T-shirts. Villainous boos filled the gym. Officially confused, Lexi caught Hawk’s eye and saw that the frown on his face had deepened.
“Hey, gurl. Sorry, but I can’t play.” Lexi turned toward the sexy Amazon who had joined them at the bar the previous night. Lashonda—she recalled her name—rocked a crazy Nicki Minaj candy-colored wig and an arm sling.
“Are you serious?” Remy hissed.
“Yeah, I was styling a video shoot and must have wrenched it.”
“Really, Shonda?” her husband hollered from the bleachers.
“Shut up, Dre!”
He waved her off as Remy slid her a nasty glare.
Without saying another word, Remy crossed the room toward the judges’ table. Lexi assumed the burly dude who had sidled up beside her was the captain of the opposite team, but at this point she was pretty much in the dark about this whole event.
“This isn’t at all what I thought it would be.”
“Huh.” Lashonda popped a squat on the other side of Lexi. “I can’t believe you actually showed up for this shit.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I could have sworn Hawk was going to warn you.” She muttered something about misunderstanding a vibe before she shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
While Remy engaged in a heated discussion with the refs, Lexi made note of all the exits. Would it be in bad form to ditch a charity event at the beginning? Or should I hustle my ass out closer toward the middle?
The piercing sound from the ref’s whistle pulled her attention to the gym floor. He signaled for the teams to join them. After the soccer moms finished their unbelievably limber stretches, they walked onto the court, meeting the opposing team at the dividing line.
“Welcome to the third annual northside dodgeball competition! We have the Ladybugs defending their home turf.” The place went wild at the adorable name of the woman’s team. “And the Local 301 Fire Station—” Boos rocked the stadium before the ref could finish his announcement.
The captain snatched the microphone. “Rules are the underlying fabric of our society. You can’t go doing what you want willy-nilly without repercussions.”
As the jeers grew louder, the ref took the microphone back.
“Players, please take your places.”
Lexi hadn’t witnessed this much drama at a professional basketball game. “This is the playoffs, and the fire chief tried to get the Ladybugs disqualified last year,” Lashonda explained. “Then he tried to ban our team from playing in the tournament. Remy’s little feud with Local 301 goes way back, and that’s why I thought Hawk would have at least warned you.”
The ref gave a quick rundown of the rules. “We have a substitution for the Ladybugs.”
Completely clueless, Lexi scanned the gym for the extra player. When she felt the heated weight of a room full of eyes on her, she pointed her index finger at her chest.
“Yeah, hot nerd, you’re up.” Remy waved her onto the floor.
What the hell?
As she stepped onto the court, her attention was drawn back to the VIP section. Maybe she should reconsider that truce with Hawk. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed to her.
“Have no mercy,” Remy told her once she joined the team. “And don’t let those kids fool you.” Lexi popped her head out of the huddle to see three girls who looked no older than thirteen lean into a runner’s stance. “They seem sweet, but they’re super-fast. The firefighters have strength but no speed.”
The wall clock went down to zero before the ref blew his whistle. A blur of crazy activity took place directly in front of her. Regardless of her apparent egghead status, Lexi refused to be the first one knocked out.
According to the rules, she could use any ball that was still in play. She delicately tiptoed behind one of the Ladybugs who had already made a run for the ball, and Lexi caught it once it bounced off the blonde’s chest.
As she hid behind another mom to dodge a million small weapons aimed at her body, she slung the ball she had in her hand. An avid video game player, Lexi immediately studied her opponent’s strategy and went in for the kill.
A short twenty minutes of playing hard and fast felt closer to an hour. After Remy pegged one of those psychotically fast teenagers, she leaned into some sort of Matrix-type back bend. Thankfully, Lexi had artfully sidestepped a bullet that her opponent whipped in her direction and beamed the ball she held at the last firefighter standing.
A roar took over the gym. For the first time in her life, she’d won something that held no weight in the techie world. Most importantly, her achievement didn’t hold the burning gaze from men who could make or break her career. It was a frivolous endeavor that she didn’t know she’d be thrilled to win.
Overwhelmed by the loud cheering, Lexi hid her laughter behind her hand. Accepting her kudos from the rest of the team who rushed onto the court, she giggled her way to victory.
Chapter Eight
The dodgeball game winners and losers came together at Moe’s in a surprisingly harmonious gesture to celebrate the Ladybugs’ victory.
Since the pub was packed to the seams, her servers had to squeeze within cracks of space left between bodies. If nothing else ever went right in her life, at least Moe’s had experienced a surge in customers. The sales line had finally eased well into the black.
“Hey.” Remy slid next her.
“Are you going to help me serve drinks?” Lexi asked, pointedly arching her eyebrow. She had given the kids at the community center in California that same look a time or two. Oh, how I miss those girls. “Otherwise, Ms. Boss Lady…” Lexi nodded to the opposite side of the bar.
“Boss Lady… I like that.” Remy nodded.
“Cool. I’ll take Hot Nerd and you keep Boss Lady.”
As she mixed a whiskey sour in the shaker, Remy grabbed a beer mug and turned toward the tap. “About that… I’m sorry, but the captain’s misogynistic crap gets me every time.”
The opposing team was supposed to pay the bar tab, but Lexi didn’t hold out any hope that would happen.
“No worries. I’ve been called worse,” Lexi said.
“I bet. There are not many women in th
e tech industry with your type of clout.”
“Oh,” she uttered in disbelief, “you know who I used to be?”
“Clothes were different than the last time I saw a pic of you.” Remy glanced over her shoulder at her. “And that hair is definitely new, but nope, I would still place you in the bad-ass category.” Remy threw her a quick wink. “Besides, it’s my job to know things. But I have to admit that you’ve managed to keep one hell of a low profile.”
“Yeah.” Lexi poured the whiskey sour into a glass. “That was by design.”
“Well, if I were you, I wouldn’t want anyone to know that I could play with the big boys and beat them at their own game either.”
Taken aback by her word choice, Lexi stopped mid-toothpick-cherry-stab and wondered if Remy knew more about her circumstances. A split among business partners had been announced at the beginning of the divorce, but she’d rarely dealt with the press, unlike her ex-husband.
While it was on the tip of her tongue to ask the stunner what she did for a living, Remy slid a beer over the counter.
“This isn’t what I ordered,” one of the firefighters from the game grumbled.
“But this one is so much better.” Remy pouted. As her big eyes went soft, she stuck out her bottom lip.
“I, uh… I, uh,” he stuttered, “think I want to keep this one, thank you.”
“Your soo-o welcome.” She smirked. The beer she handed to their opponent cost several dollars more than the one he’d originally wanted. Officially in awe of goddess Remy’s manipulative tactics, Lexi forgot about the drink she had made.
“Ahem.” The customer cleared his throat.
“Oh, sorry.” She dropped the cherry in his whiskey sour and plunked it down in front of the man.
“What do you do for a living?” When Lexi glanced up, she found the sexy chameleon had already left the bar.
“We’ve been over this.” Hawk scooched his big body into the spot where Remy had vacated. “I play on ice with a stick. Of course, I’m nowhere as skilled as your athletic prowess.”
“That, I’m afraid, was a one-off,” Lexi told him.
“Not from where I was standing.” He reached around her to swipe an orange slice from the garnish tray, momentarily caging her body between his ripped biceps and the bar. Lexi held her breath to shield herself against the crisp, woodsy scent that wafted from his golden café-au-lait skin.