Hate the Game

by Rose, Callie

  “You bet against me? My own best friend? I am wounded to my core!”

  “Oh come on, this is the first guy you’ve spent any time with since you kicked Brian to the curb. He’s hot, you’re single, it’s bound to happen.”

  “Is not.”

  “Is so.”

  “You know I’m definitely not going to let it happen now, right? I run on spite and indignation.”

  “False,” she said firmly. “You run on curiosity and goodwill, and it’s going to win me my bet.”

  “Oh, whatever.” I laughed. “You and Bobby better buy me pizza with that money.”

  “I certainly would,” she said pointedly. “Bobby won’t. So you better make sure I win, huh?”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Ditto. So what are you going to do now?”

  I sighed, relaxing into the soft pillows. “Now there’s a big bathtub with my name on it and all the bubbles I could ask for. I’m going to get room service to bring me a bottle of wine, and I’m going to enjoy a long, luxurious night off.”

  “But you were working all day. Is it really a night off?”

  “Hey, any day that I don’t have to be in the office with Edwards is considered ‘off’. ’Night, Rebecca.”

  “Goodnight. Kiss Sawyer for me!”

  “Curse you and your twenty dollars!”

  She hung up, laughing, and I tossed the phone aside with a grin. I was determined not to let her win that bet, but I couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would feel like against mine.

  “Probably rough and gross from all the chapping,” I said dismissively to the empty room. “Not even worth thinking about.”

  I called for the wine and started the bath. By the time the former had arrived, the latter was ready for me, deep and steaming and full of silky bubbles. I shivered as the hot water enveloped my naked skin, relishing the feel of it. My little apartment back home had one of those super cheap molded tubs, barely more than a foot basin. A tub like this was absolutely luxurious in comparison.

  I had intended to put work out of my mind—but after two glasses of wine, I no longer had the wherewithal to avoid it. It was a puzzle, and Rebecca was right; I ran on curiosity. I wasn’t so sure about the goodwill part, but she was certainly spot on about my innate nosiness.

  “What kind of man are you, Sawyer Dawson?” My voice echoed softly back to me in the bathroom, so I changed my tone and answered myself. “Why, I’m the burly jock type of man! I’m shallow and half-stupid and broken in ways that make you want to fix me!”

  I shook my head, knowing that wasn’t right. It was what I wanted to believe, but after talking to him, I wasn’t sure it was the truth. Truth was what I was after, after all. I poured a third glass and tried again, from a different perspective.

  “Sawyer Dawson is… charitable, but angry. Hurting, but hilarious. A star. A team player. Everything I don’t want, and super hot. He’s a walking dichotomy. Sawyer Dawson is… .” I took a long drink of my wine and sighed contentedly. “Absolutely infuriating.”

  After I finished my third glass, the showerhead and I had a long, involved conversation about the finer points of Sawyer’s sculpted anatomy.

  * * *

  I woke up to a text message the next morning and could barely read it for the pounding in my head.

  “Stupid wine,” I grumbled, squinting at the phone. “Come to practice… meet the team… eleven o’clock at the stadium. More stuff to tell you.” Groaning, I peered at the time. Nine thirty. “Oh, well that’s fantastic.”

  Growling and grumbling under my breath, I showered and changed as quickly as I reasonably could in light of my hangover. It wasn’t a bad one—I’d had worse in college—but it seemed that the less I indulged, the less I was able to handle the after-effects with anything resembling grace or dignity. I grabbed a greasy breakfast sandwich from the diner downstairs, found my rental—after several minutes of panicked searching—and hurried to the stadium. It was five after eleven by the time I got there, but I figured under the circumstances, it was forgivable.

  I sent him a text telling him I was there and asking what door to go in to. He didn’t respond, and the front doors were locked. Annoyed, I called him. It rang until it went to voicemail.

  “Hi, this is Addison. I managed to find the stadium, but I can’t seem to get inside. Call me back when you get this. Thanks.” I ended the call with a sigh. “I swear, if this is another one of his prank setups, I quit.”

  I waited outside for fifteen minutes in the chilly autumn air before calling him a second time. Voicemail again. I was positively fuming, but I went to try the front door just for the hell off it. Apparently, my luck was almost decent that day, because a janitor just happened to be passing by inside as I approached. I knocked on the glass to get his attention, and he opened the door.

  “There’s no game today, miss.”

  “I know that. Sawyer Dawson asked me to come to practice. I’m writing a story on him for In Deep magazine.”

  The janitor smirked and looked me up and down in a way that left me feeling slimy. “Sure you are. In Deep, huh? Sure you don’t want to get in deep with me?” He waggled his bushy eyebrows. I didn’t bother to suppress my shudder.

  “Yeah, no thanks. Excuse me, please.”

  “Whoa, whoa! Say I believe you. Wouldn’t be the first time Dawson had a chick come to practice. But I can’t just let you in just like that, I’ll lose my job!”

  I sighed at him. “All right, what do you want?”

  “How ’bout a kiss?” He licked his lips, exposing his missing tooth and its rotting neighbors. He leaned in close to me, breathing an acrid mess at my nose.

  “Back off, buddy,” I said, choking on a gag. “Let me by, I have work to do.”

  “So do I, lady, but you don’t see me stressing about it. That’s the key to living a good life, you know. Stop and smell the roses. Give the ol’ janitor a kiss.”

  “I’ll give you twenty dollars to let me by.”

  “Eh. I’d rather have the kiss.”

  “Forty.”

  He wheezed a sigh and squinted at me. “Damn shame. Make it fifty and you can come on through.”

  I fished the cash out of my wallet and shoved it at him. He actually cackled with glee. I ran down the hall away from him, brushing invisible creepy-crawlies off of myself as I went. I was absolutely certain the janitor was another one of Sawyer’s stupid pranks, and I was set to give him a piece of my mind.

  A whistle blew as I reached the bleachers, and a scuffle instantly broke out on the ice. The guys actually looked pissed off for some reason. I could only assume it was Sawyer’s doing. I was too angry to think past him. I chose a perch that would allow me a view of the entire rink while also being close enough to snub Sawyer if he happened to look my way. I was here to observe the team today. Sawyer could suck my left shoe.

  He didn’t seem to notice me at all, though. He seemed to be off his game, and I wondered if I was the only one nursing a hangover. He was clumsy, he missed shots far easier than ones he’d hit with ease only the day before, and he wasn’t communicating at all with his team. The coach blew the whistle after it became painful to watch and pulled him aside.

  While they were talking, one of the other guys skated over to me. After a moment, I recognized him as the player who had worked so well with Sawyer during the game last night.

  “Hi!” He beamed at me brightly, his green eyes shining. “You’re the girl who’s doing the story on Sawyer, right? We thought you weren’t coming! I don’t think he knows you’re here. Hey, Dawson!” He waved over toward Sawyer, who was still getting chewed out by the coach, before shrugging. “Oh, he’ll figure it out. I’m Chase, by the way. What’s your name?”

  “Addison,” I said with a smile. “Glad to meet you, Chase. So, what’s up with him this morning? He’s playing like crap.”

  “You noticed, huh? I don’t know. He was fine when we got here, but he’s been distracted for the last half hour or s
o. I figured it was because you bailed on practice, but you’re here, so there goes that theory.”

  “I was a few minutes late,” I admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t get the message about practice until nine thirty, and it took me a while to get here. I was only five minutes late, but I couldn’t get in.”

  Chase frowned. “You were here at ten fifty? We weren’t on the ice yet then; one of us could have let you in if you knocked.”

  Damn you, Sawyer. “I was told to be here at eleven. I was here at five after.”

  “Oh… yeah, no, that makes sense. We hit the ice at eleven. We get here fifteen, twenty minutes before practice. Probably just an innocent miscommunication, don’t read too far into it.”

  “Of course,” I said, but I was reading as far into it as I possibly could. Sawyer had already proved himself willing to embarrass me at every opportunity. I would’ve bet money he knew what the janitor was like, too, and wanted to see what I would put up with to get in here. I glared at him across the ice, but he still hadn’t noticed me.

  “I’m gonna go tell him you’re here,” Chase said, turning away. “Hope you enjoy yourself!”

  “Thanks! You too?” I called, then scrunched up my nose. “I guess if he didn’t enjoy it, he wouldn’t be here… .”

  Realizing I had started talking to myself, I snapped my mouth shut. I watched as Chase skated across to Sawyer, tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed his stick in my direction. They both turned to gaze over at me.

  Sawyer looked absolutely furious.

  6

  Sawyer

  So she had decided to show up after all. Would have been nice to know before I made a complete fool of myself out there. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on listing ten things I enjoyed, but I came up empty. Right then, the only thing I would have enjoyed would be getting her in a private place where I could give her a piece of my mind.

  “I got it, coach. I’m fine, I swear.”

  “Yeah, okay… just tell me you aren’t hung over again.” Coach’s fatherly face was creased with concern, and I winced with shame.

  “Hand to God, Coach, I haven’t touched the stuff in months. Just feeling a little off my game today. I’m good now, though. Really.”

  “All right, if you say so. Get out there and show me what you got.”

  I was planning on it, but I was more interested in performing for my feminine audience. An audience who, upon closer inspection, apparently had the audacity to glare at me. Oh, yeah. We were definitely going to have words after this.

  “Glad you could make it,” I called through the plexiglass.

  “Sure you are.” Her sarcasm was as harsh as her glare.

  I wanted to demand an explanation, but practice was starting back up. She was there, that was the important part. Now that I wasn’t waiting for her to show up, wondering if something had happened to her, I could focus on playing the game I was paid to play. I didn’t generally require an audience to show off to, but for some reason I couldn’t quite pinpoint, her absence that morning left me shaken.

  I slapped the puck as soon as it dropped and sent it sailing down the ice, slightly to the right of center. Joey didn’t stand a chance of stopping it, but he tried, smashing his face guard into the ice in the process. We restarted, and I did it again. And again. Then one more time for good measure. Coach blew the whistle.

  “Where was that energy half an hour ago? All right everybody, speed laps, go!”

  This was my favorite part of training anytime, but especially when I had a temper to work off. I took off across the ice as fast as humanly possible, with my team right behind me. Back and forth, back and forth, until Addison was nothing but a pink blur on the sidelines. I could feel her eyes on me, and it just pushed me to go even faster.

  We spent another hour on drills before Coach decided to let us scrimmage again. By now the majority of the team was beat, but I was still running hot. Chase kept up with me better than any of them, and we ended practice evenly matched. When Coach released us to the locker room, I skated over to her.

  “Meet me in the lobby.”

  She glared at me. “Are you actually going to be there this time?”

  “Are you?”

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened with fury. I skated away before she had a chance to answer. So she was pissed. Good. That made two of us. I showered and changed quickly, wasting no time bantering with the team. I wasn’t in any mood for camaraderie. Once I was back in my street clothes, I hauled my bag over my shoulder and stormed out to the lobby.

  “Oh, look who decided to show up,” I said when I saw her.

  “Oh, look who decided to be here when I did!”

  “You’re mad at me because you were late? I had practice to get to!”

  “I was five minutes late, which, according to your friend, was actually twenty-five minutes late. You know what, Sawyer, I have had it up to here with your stupid pranks!”

  Her eyes were really pretty when she was furious. It was distracting.

  “Oh, and don’t get me started on the troll you set up! That crossed the line, Sawyer. Setting me up to get hit on by a creepy janitor? That’s low, even for you. You’re lucky I made it in here at all, and you owe me fifty bucks.” She crossed her arms and tilted her chin defiantly. She looked like a warrior goddess. I’d always had a thing for warrior goddesses. This wasn’t going well at all.

  “You really think I would put you in danger?”

  “How the hell should I know? I don’t know you from Adam, Sawyer. For all I know, you could have a whole army of creepy trolls on your payroll!”

  “You think so? Tell me, princess, when would I have the time to hire all those creeps? And why would I do that? It’s insane!”

  “No, I’ll tell you what’s insane. Insane is being this close to unemployment and still acting like such a stubborn child that you’ll throw it all away just to prove you’re smarter and better than the one person in the world who might actually be able to help you.” She was shaking now, and all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her. Damn it.

  “I don’t know what you want from me. I answered your stupid questions, I asked you to come to practice, what more do you want?”

  “Just a little cooperation. Is that too much to ask?”

  I ground my teeth. “Fine. You want cooperation? Here’s the deal. I dare you to spend the next two weeks living in my house. Full access to everything. If I’m hiding something and you don’t find it, that’s on you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you get out of it?”

  “A giant freaking headache, that’s what.”

  “Then why do it?”

  Because I want to spend time with you.

  I shoved the thought away angrily. Irrelevant, untrue, and uncalled for, brain.

  “Because if I don’t, you’re going to be pestering me for months, and I’ve got to be honest here Addison, I don’t know how much of that I could take.”

  She considered my answer for a moment while she studied my face. I opened my hands to her and shrugged.

  “There’s no angle here, Addison. I just want to get this over with.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Two weeks, full access, then I’m done. Whatever I find is mine to use however I see fit.”

  “Deal.” We shook on it, which was probably a mistake. I really liked the way her hand felt in mine. The impulse to pull her close and kiss that stubborn look off her face was overwhelming. Fortunately, at that moment, the hallway was flooded with the rest of my team.

  “You were going to introduce me,” she reminded me, nodding her head at them.

  “Right. Addison PIMA Beyers—”

  “PIMA?” She asked.

  “Pain in my ass. Anyway, this is Chase, Joey, Levi, Mateo, Colton… .” It was fun to watch her try to keep up as I rattled off twelve more names, but the steel in her eyes made me believe that she really was retaining all of it. A lesser man might have been intimidated by her mind. “… Gage, Eli
jah, and Damian.”

  “Sorry ‘bout your bad luck,” Damian said as he shook her head.

  “Sorry?” She asked, tilting her head to one side.

  I glared at Damian, but he only smirked at me.

  “For getting stuck with this jackass. You want a real interview? I’ll give you the inside scoop on this guy anytime.”

  “Waste of time,” I said a little too loudly. “Unless you’re planning to write another unfounded trash piece.”

  She looked intrigued, which was exactly the opposite of my intention. “Here’s my card,” she said, handing it to Damian. “We’ll talk.”

  “Excellent. Maybe over dinner?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and I had the overwhelming urge to punch him directly in his smug face.

  “Not on my watch,” I said, then turned to Addison. “I’ll follow you back to your hotel so you can get your stuff. Then you can follow me to my place. Easier that way.”

  The team exploded in whoops and wolf whistles. Addison looked embarrassed, and Damian was peeved. Ha. Two birds, one stone.

  “You do have a guest room, don’t you?” she asked icily.

  “Of course I do. Six, actually. If you decide you’d rather sleep in one of them, I’ll set one up for you.”

  Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and I grinned. The guys were mumbling comments to each other and laughing, and she looked as though she would love nothing more than to lay into all of us with the fiery fury of a thousand suns. Instead, she turned on her heel and left.

  “Aw,” Chase said. “You guys, you scared her off! Be nice or they won’t let us come to the wedding.”

  “Shut up, ass,” I said, punching him lightly. “Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

  “Bring your lady friend!” one of the guys called. “I always play better for puck bunnies.”

  “See if she’ll dress like a cheerleader!”

  “She’ll get cold… ”

  “Mm-hmm, and then I’ll warm her up, she’ll be like ‘Oh Colton, you big sexy beast, warm my frozen skin’… ”

  “Frozen heart maybe, did you see the way she looked at him?”