Fumbled (Playbook, The)

by Alexa Martin

  “Good, then we’re set, I’ll call Brynn tomorrow and get the passes set up.” He reaches out, twisting a strand of my hair around his finger. His eyes drop to my mouth. I hope it’s because he can hear the silent pleading coming from it and he’ll touch his lips to mine. Instead, the corners of his mouth pull up, deepening his smile lines. “Night, Poppy.”

  “Night, TK,” I whisper, the words all air and begging.

  He drops his head and touches his lips to mine before turning his back on me and retreating to my living room, where he turned the couch into his bed for the night.

  I watch him go. His full, firm ass, the tightness of his quads, the graze of his sun-kissed hair against his muscular shoulders taunting me as he moves. I watch with intense focus things I never once noticed in another man. Every inch of TK calls to me . . . turns my insides into liquid.

  As soon as he’s out of sight, I give up trying to hold myself upright and slide down the wall until my ass is safely on the kitchen floor, which this close up, I realize, needs to be mopped.

  But I can be Cinderella another day.

  One when TK hasn’t reappeared in my life, bringing back ideas of true love’s kiss and happily-ever-afters.

  Fifteen

  I check my phone for what feels like the billionth time, hoping to see a text from TK.

  Before he left on Monday, he promised to give Brynn a call and then text me with her number. I mean, I know training camp starts today and he was probably busy packing or something last night, but he was so insistent that he’d reach out to her that I thought he’d get back to me right away.

  Still no text.

  “Dammit,” I breathe out before putting my phone on the table with a little too much . . . enthusiasm.

  “Swear jar!” Ace shouts with a mouth full of scrambled eggs and points to the embarrassingly full mason jar on the kitchen counter. Though, to be fair, most of the contributions came from Sadie.

  “Fine,” I pout, pushing out of my chair to go pay my fine. “And don’t talk with food in your mouth.”

  “So,” Ace says in a way that clearly indicates he’s about to ask for something. “I know Mrs. Duncan is supposed to watch me while you work tonight, but Jayden is coming back tonight and I was wondering if I could go over there instead?”

  Crap.

  “About that . . .” I smile a smile that I know is showing too many teeth to look natural. “I don’t have to work anymore.”

  “Why?” Ace drops his fork onto the table, his green eyes filled with worry. “Did you get fired?”

  Yes.

  “What? No!” I lie. “I just decided I wanted a job where I could work during the day instead of all night and then I’m too tired to hang with my best guy.”

  “Really?” Ace still looks skeptical.

  “Really.” I ruffle his hair. “And guess what? I already have a meeting at HERS, you know, that place right next to Fresh. If I work there, I can bring home smoothies every day.”

  His face lights up and I see my mistake immediately. If possible, always lead with smoothies. A rookie mistake, really.

  “Awesome!”

  “Right?” I smirk and grab his now empty plate off the table for him. “And since I don’t have anywhere to be, I was thinking maybe we go see that new superhero movie you’ve been talking about and go to dinner tonight.”

  “Burgers?”

  Predictable.

  “We just had them yesterday,” I groan.

  “What about Mexican?” he asks. His eyebrows hide under his loose curls and he rubs his greedy hands together. “Chips and guacamole?”

  “Deal.” I know we just had it too, but there is no such thing as too much Mexican food.

  * * *

  • • •

  I SEND TK a text asking for Brynn’s number before I hop in the shower, but when I get out, he still hasn’t texted me back.

  On a whim, I decide to walk to HERS and introduce myself to Brynn. It’s so out of character that when I look in the mirror to put gel in my hair, I’m shocked to see it’s still my reflection looking back at me.

  I don’t repeat the mistake I made earlier when I ask Ace to go to HERS with me. And even though I just fed him, I still lead with smoothies and muffins. As expected, he jumps at the opportunity . . . after bargaining a large smoothie out of me.

  “Fine,” I concede, convinced this kid of mine is going to be a lawyer of some sort when he grows up. “But you have to get the vitamin boost instead of the energy one.”

  Kid has more energy than anyone I’ve ever met. That caffeine boost they use gives me a major parenting disadvantage.

  “You drive a hard bargain.” He reaches for my hand. “But deal.”

  I look at his extended hand and laugh. “I’m sorry, but are you nine or thirty-five?”

  “A very mature nine, thank you.” He pushes open the front door, decked out in the Mustangs gear TK brought him.

  I lock the door behind us and cringe again when the gate I still haven’t fixed screeches.

  “You really need to fix that, Mom.”

  “Yeah.” I roll my eyes at his obvious suggestion. “Thanks for the advice, Ace.”

  “No problem.” He ignores the sarcasm in my tone and skips away.

  I try to keep up, but I’m too worried about scuffing the one nice pair of flats I own to chance it. Ace gets to HERS a full minute before I do.

  “All right, dude.” I lean into him when I reach the front door. “I don’t think this will take long, I just want to introduce myself and then we’ll hit Fresh.” I fish my phone out of my purse and hand it to Ace. “Read a book, play a game, but turn the volume all the way down. Got it?”

  “Got it, coach.” He salutes.

  Little smart-ass.

  I pull open the door, relieved it’s unlocked. Seeing as this wasn’t the most thought-out plan and I didn’t want to talk myself out of this brave endeavor, I left the house before even googling their hours.

  “We’re still closed,” a peppy voice shouts from the back.

  I look to Ace for any kind of support, a smile, a high five, anything, but he just shrugs, his eyes focused on my phone, and walks to a cozy-looking couch in the corner.

  “I—I actually just wanted to introduce myself to you.” I move to the open door the voice came from, and when I peek in, a gorgeous blonde is sitting at a desk covered in papers. “Are you Brynn?” I ask.

  “I am.” She shoves her chair back and stands when she sees me. “And you are?”

  “Hi.” I start to wave, then cut it short and extend my arm to shake her hand, then cringe at how awkward I must look. “I’m Poppy Patterson.”

  Her eyes go wide, causing lines to mar her otherwise Photoshopped face. “Poppy Patterson?” she repeats, her smile turning from sweet and welcoming to deranged and a little frightening.

  “Ummm . . .” I drag out the word, unsure if I should answer or back away slowly. “Yeah?” I answer because she might be a bit of an oddball, but I’d still like to work for her.

  “Like Poppy Patterson?” She bounces on her tiptoes and claps her hands together. “The Poppy Patterson?”

  “Uh, I don’t know if I’m the Poppy Patterson, but I’ve never met anybody else with my name.” I tug one of the curls by my face, losing the battle not to fidget.

  “Are you TK’s Poppy?” she finally clarifies.

  “Oh!” My shoulders slump and I let out a short bark of laughter. She’s not insane and TK at least called her. “Yeah, sorry. He never texted me back, I didn’t know he called you.”

  “He didn’t,” she half shouts at me, still vibrating with excitement.

  “Uhh . . .”

  Annnnnd I’m back to confused.

  “Wait until I tell Marlee I met you! She’s going to flip!” She turns back to her desk and grabs the
phone covered in a “Smash the Patriarchy” case. “She said she saw you at the park, but you were far away. I get the first good look and she’s gonna be so jealous. You’re stunning, by the way. Not that I’d expect much less from TK. He drives me insane, but he’s hot.”

  “Thanks?” I don’t know if it’s necessary for me to respond—she’s having a pretty lengthy conversation without me—but it seems like the polite thing to do.

  “Marlee,” she says into her phone, her eyes focused on me. “No. Stop talking. Guess who I’m looking at right now?” She pauses. “No.” Pause again. “Nope.” She singsongs and winks, like I’m a willing participant in this game. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you because you’re never going to guess. Standing right in front of me at HERS is none other than Poppy Patterson.” She pulls the receiver away from her ear, laughing, and I hear the scream from the other end.

  “Mom?” Ace asks, peeking his head into the room, no doubt concerned with the noise levels echoing throughout the small restaurant. His eyes shift between me and Brynn, who has gone silent, which is alarming considering her earlier reaction. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, dude. Everything’s good,” I rush out. “Just play on my phone for a little longer.”

  “’Kay.” He doesn’t look convinced, but he turns and pulls the door shut behind him.

  “Sorry about that,” I say to a still-silent Brynn, whose eyes have nearly tripled in size since I looked at her ten seconds ago.

  “Holy shit,” she breathes. Whether it’s to me or Marlee, I’m not sure. “A mini TK with better hair.” She tears her gaze from the closed door and looks at me. “I didn’t know a TK with better hair was possible.” She blinks a few times, shaking her head as if to jar her brain back into action. “Shit. I’m being so rude. I’ll call you later, Mars.” She nods to whatever’s being said but only says, “Bye,” before hanging up and putting her phone back on her desk.

  Meeting people I don’t know is always a special kind of uncomfortable hell for me, but this seems like a whole new level . . . even for me. I don’t know what to say and I want to find TK and wring his freaking neck for not calling Brynn and warning her I’d be coming in.

  “I’m so sorry for just dropping in like this. TK said he’d call you and tell you I was coming.”

  “Please, you are not the one who should be apologizing right now.” She raises both hands in front of her chest, as if surrendering. “And I swear, TK is one of the most forgetful people I know.”

  This information takes me aback for multiple reasons. One, TK has remembered every last detail of everything Ace has told him since he came to my house that first meeting. Which is a lot. Ace never shuts up around TK. Two, the TK I know and have known since I was teenager was my personal recorder. Whether it was something my parents said in passing or notes for our chemistry test, he remembered it all. It’s why he was a straight-A student. It used to drive me crazy. I’d study for hours and barely get a B, and he’d glance at his notes and ace his tests.

  It’s why I started calling him Ace.

  “He said you might be hiring?” I ask, bracing for the instant letdown.

  “I am,” she says, her smile morphing from apologetic back to excited. “I guess TK doesn’t forget everything.”

  “I know I’d need to do a real interview, but I’d really love to apply. Not only is this place right down the street from my house, but I’ve heard nothing but great things and I’d love to be a part of it.”

  This is all true. I’m not trying to butter her up . . . well, not totally. HERS is a bar owned by a woman and marketed toward women. The waitresses aren’t dressed in cleavage-revealing tees, and there aren’t men taking up all the seats and oxygen, mansplaining and acting like you should be grateful to be in their space.

  And after working at the literal opposite for the last two years, HERS is my version of heaven.

  Also, working in pants would be a welcome change.

  “Do you have restaurant experience?” she asks.

  “Umm.” I hesitate.

  I know I need to be honest, I’ll have to provide my work history after all, but I’d hate for her to think less of me. For the look of disgust and superiority I’ve became so well accustomed to from the women who’d occasionally tag along with their boyfriend to the club, to make an appearance on Brynn’s welcoming face. But I know I don’t really have a choice. I pull at the hem of my shirt with both hands and avoid eye contact. “Yeah, I waitressed at the Emerald Cabaret for the last two years.”

  “Two years?” Brynn repeats, but I can’t decipher the tone in her voice. “Good for you, girl. I know you were killing it there. I went a while ago, the waitress uniforms were so cute, I went home and ordered a sequined corset from Trashy. Spent three hundred dollars and wore it once . . . alone in my bedroom. It wasn’t a good look on me.”

  I find that hard to believe. Brynn is basically a supermodel. I’d put good money on everything being a good look on her.

  “Trust me, once in your bedroom is more than enough. Wire piping isn’t the cornerstone of comfort.” We both laugh at the truth in my words, but I still reconsider giving my uniform back. I was the only one who wore my size, so it’s not like they’ll miss it.

  “Yeah, and I’m all about comfort.” She stops and bites her lip, her eyes moving to the ceiling before dropping back to me. “Listen.”

  My stomach clenches as I fight the urge to retreat. She was nice about my nightclub past, but here comes the gentle letdown.

  “I think I’m a pretty good judge of character. I hired Marlee on the spot and that worked out well for me,” she says.

  My breath gets stuck in my chest, a sliver of hope poking out behind the gloomy cloud of dread that’s always following me around.

  “And my gut is telling me you’re good people. If it’s not too late notice, why don’t you come in this weekend right before we open, about ten, and stay until after the lunch rush? We can see how you like it.”

  “It’s not too late,” I promise, feeling a relief so heady my knees go weak.

  “Great!” She bounces on her toes again and I think she’s genuinely excited for me to work with her.

  “Thank you so much, Brynn.” I give her a hug, forgetting in the moment how much I hate touching strangers. “You won’t regret this!”

  “I know I won’t.” She hugs me back, clearly not sharing my distaste for affection.

  Now, I’m sure we are not only wearing matching psychotic smiles, but have matching pitch as well.

  I lean in for one last hug when Brynn’s arms go straight and she pushes me back.

  “Oh!” Her eyes widen and drop down to my feet. “There’s not really a dress code here, just dress how you’re comfortable, but just so you know, I wear tennis shoes.” She points at her red Chuck Taylor–covered feet and I want to weep.

  “Tennis shoes at work?” I pull her in for another hug. “I will never let this job go.”

  Even if I do keep the corset, I decide in this moment, the heels must die.

  I make sure to add lighter fluid and wood for my fireplace to the running grocery list in my head. Tonight, the spiked, five-inch Devils will meet their doom.

  “See you soon.” I wave and walk out of the office.

  Ace’s concern for my safety must’ve been fleeting because he’s so into whatever he’s doing on my phone that he doesn’t even notice me walk out of the room.

  “Come on, dude. Large smoothies and a dozen muffins to go.” I snap my fingers, causing him to jump off the couch. “We have some celebrating to do.”

  Sixteen

  “Answer, answer, answer,” I whisper into the receiver as the phone rings in my ear and I pace back and forth in my room.

  This is the third attempt I’ve made to call TK since I left HERS. I know he’s busy and my new waitressing gig isn’t the most exciting news in the world, but a
fter blowing off sending me Brynn’s number last night and not responding to my texts or answering my calls, I’m getting a complex. I’ve been racking my mind, going over what we said before he left, wondering if I did or said anything to piss him off. But I can’t think of anything.

  “Yo,” TK answers just before I give up hope and hit the End button.

  “Hey!” I say, and cringe at the volume of my voice. I haven’t even started at HERS yet and I feel like Brynn’s already rubbing off on me. “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving meetings from this morning’s practice, about to grab some lunch before more meetings and more practice.” There is something off with his tone. He seems almost annoyed to be on the phone with me. The knot in my stomach tightens and I sneak out of the living room without Ace noticing. “Do you need anything?”

  “Uh, no. I just wanted to tell you about my morning.”

  I stop and wait for him to say something . . . anything, but I’m only met with silence.

  “Me and Ace went to HERS and you’re now talking to the newest waitress!” I dance in my room despite the chilly reception on the other end, too excited to not be unemployed to fight it.

  “Shit, I can’t believe I forgot to send you her number,” TK groans, and I can picture him with his head down, his hair falling in front of his face, concealing his look of frustration. “Congratulations, though. I knew she’d hire you.”

  “It’s not a huge deal, but thank you. I think it worked out better, you not calling,” I reassure him, even though I’m still a little annoyed at his forgetfulness over something that was actually really important. “It forced me to step out of my comfort zone.”

  “I can push you out of your comfort zone,” TK says, all traces of the grumpy, brooding guy I was talking to pushed to the side by the horny teenager I remember all too well.

  “TK!” I scold him, heat flooding my cheeks. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

  “Why?” he asks, and I don’t answer. “I’m alone. Is Ace by you?”