Wildcat
Page 8
She refuses to look at me, but it’s fine. I’m too happy that she’s working here to be annoyed about how she keeps insisting our night together “was nothing” and treating me like the worst one-night stand in the history of casual sex. Maybe it should sting, her ability to so easily dismiss me, but it doesn’t for one simple fact: I know she’s bluffing. If she truly felt nothing, she wouldn’t need to put up a front.
Maybe it’s because of her dad or because she’s working here, maybe it’s because of the prick in London that broke her heart, maybe she really is pissed I didn’t call sooner—but if it’s the latter, then that just sort of proves my point.
Ash nudges me with the clipboard. I scan the questions on the form, then tip my head up to look at her. “This is all you need from me?”
“Yeah. I think Anna got everything else before she left. Dad promised I wouldn’t need to interact with the players much. Thank goodness.” She looks at Ash. “No offense.”
“Lots taken. We’re awesome.”
I tap the pen on the clipboard. “So after this, you won’t have any reason to speak to me?”
“That is the hope,” she says, voice climbing to a playful sing-song.
I skim over the form again. It’s basic information we provide every year. I hand it back without filling it out. “I need to check a few things first.”
She balks. I bite back a smile at the look on her face—the one that says she knows exactly what I’m doing.”
“I’ll come back to you,” she says in a sugary-sweet tone that hardens when she adds,“Figure it out.”
“If you’re trying to make her like you, you might try making her life easier instead of harder,” Ash says out of one side of his mouth.
She’s back a few minutes later, but doesn’t jab the clipboard toward me like I’m expecting.
“I ran out of forms,” she says. “Can you stop by the office later?”
“Oooh. I’m not sure.” I look at Ash. “Do I have time for that?”
“He’s a pretty busy guy,” Ash says. “But I think he can squeeze you in around three after strength training.”
“Thank you,” she mutters the thanks with a great deal of pain in her tone.
At exactly three o’clock, I stop by Anna’s office next to Coach’s. I’m freshly showered and in street clothes and I don’t miss the full-body scan Scarlett takes of me. I take a seat in front of the desk. It’s clean and tidy. Pictures of Anna and her family face me. I move one over to get a better view of Scarlett.
“Here you go.” She hands me the clipboard. She’s scribbled my name on the top line and I like the way it looks in her penmanship.
I take it and lean back in the chair. “Cream and sugar?”
“Excuse me?” She’s staring at a laptop and doesn’t look up at my question.
“In your coffee. Do you like cream and sugar?”
“It depends.”
“On?” I ask, more and more amused at everything that comes out of her mouth.
She sighs and looks up. “If I’m making it, then yes. But I don’t trust other people to mess with my coffee.”
“Dark roast? Medium?”
“For someone who doesn’t like coffee, you have a lot of questions about it.”
“I didn’t say I don’t like coffee. I said I don’t drink it. At least not during the season.”
I finish the form and set the clipboard on the desk.
“Thank you. One more thing I can cross off the list today.” She looks at the clock on the wall. “Crap. Is that the time?”
“Umm…” I glance at it and then my watch. “Yes.”
“I have to take that box of signed shirts upstairs to the media department and haul ass to the bar.”
“You’re still working at the bar too?”
“Once or twice a week when Mike doesn’t have any other options.” She stands and looks all around, grabs her purse, shuts the laptop, and starts to pick up a large box sitting on the floor.
“Go. I’ll take that to the media department.”
“You’ll make sure it gets there? I promised them I’d have it there by the end of today.”
“I promise.”
She hesitates as if she’s not sure she should trust me.
“Thank you.” She takes a few quick steps and pauses, looking at me square on for the first time all day. “See you tomorrow, Leo Lohan.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I sit there for a few minutes after she’s gone, smiling as I think about the small interactions I’ve had with her today. It’s a real twist of fate that she’s here, where I can see her face every day. If only for a week or two, I have an opportunity to remind her how good things were between us and figure out how to make this work where Coach doesn’t send me packing.
One thing is for sure, I have to make the most of this time because something tells me she isn’t going to unblock my number so easily. I pick up the clipboard, take my form and crumble it into a ball.
To making the most of it.
I shoot the ball of paper into the trash can, then grab the box to take upstairs.
11
THE BEST SEX OF YOUR LIFE
SCARLETT
Wednesday morning I get to the arena even before my father. I set three alarms and laid out my outfit last night like I’m a preschooler. I also promised myself I’d stop at Starbucks, but I pressed snooze one too many times, and here I am, coffeeless as I flip on the light to Anna’s office.
My dad’s assistant is organization goals. Once I got into her file system yesterday, I was blown away. She even has a checklist of her tasks every morning, which includes making coffee. She did not include the steps to make said coffee because I guess she just assumed any adult could figure out a coffee maker. Any adult but me.
“I’ve got this,” I say to myself as I enter the break room. “Filter, coffee packet, water. Filter, coffee packet, water. Filter, coffee—”
The smell of fresh, hot coffee fills the air. I inhale and my gaze goes to the carafe that is on and full of coffee. A yellow sticky note is stuck to the top. I pull it off and read the messy scrawl, Turn off the burner, turn on the warmer, look to your left.
I follow his instructions, knowing who wrote it even before I see the Starbucks coffee cup with my name on it. Nicely done, Leo Lohan. Nicely done.
I hold onto those pleasant feelings until Dad asks me to take the forms the players filled out yesterday to the equipment manager. I count through them one more time to make sure I have them all, but come up one short. Ah, Leo’s. But when I look at the clipboard, it isn’t there either. Weird. I watched him fill it out. I go through the forms three more times until I’m certain I’m losing my mind.
Anna’s desk is immaculate so there’s nowhere for it to be hiding. I get up and look around the room anyway. Somewhere near insanity, it hits me like a jolt of lightning. He wouldn’t. Though even as I try to convince myself that Leo wouldn’t have taken the paper just to make my life more difficult, I find myself in Dad’s office, asking where I can find the players.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, perfect,” I say. “One of the guys forgot to fill out a few things.”
“Check the therapy room. Just past the locker room.” He smiles, glasses perched on his nose. “And, before you give the forms to Lewis, fill out the travel preferences for yourself too, just in case you need to come to any of the games.”
“Need?” He’s already mentioned that Anna rarely travels with the team.
“Okay fine. In case I want you to. I like having you close. It’s nice seeing you everyday again.”
I have no plans to travel with the team, but I smile and agree to fill out the form anyway.
I stop off in the bathroom to give myself a pep talk and reapply my lipstick. I go with a fiery red and lean against the counter. “He’s just a guy. An insanely hot guy who was the best sex of your life. But that doesn’t matter because he lied and he didn’t call you.”
Laughter snaps m
e out of my pep talk, and I look up to find Lindsey smiling at me. “Bad combination.”
“No kidding.” I turn away from the mirror and rest a hip against the sink. “You survived picture day.”
“Just barely.” She adjusts her stubby blonde ponytail while looking in the mirror. “Thanks again for your help.”
“Are you kidding? It was the highlight of my week. I was actually hoping we could chat sometime. I’d love to hear about how you got here. I’m thinking of taking some classes or workshops.”
“Absolutely. I heard you were helping out your dad until Anna comes back.”
I nod.
“If you have time, come up to our office one day and I’ll show you around and answer any questions you have. Maybe I can convince you to take a few photos too.”
“I would love that.”
When we both fall quiet, I stand tall. “Well, I guess I better go. I need to confront a boy before I lose my nerve.”
Her lips twist into a grin. “Good luck.”
On my way to the therapy room, I silently go through my pep talk one more time. He’s just another guy. Just another guy. Just another guy. Just another… holy shit. When I spot him getting out of the ice bath, my mouth goes as dry as the Sahara. He doesn’t see me and I have several seconds to take in the glory that is Leo Lohan naked from the waist up, water dripping off him, muscles contracted, black shorts molded to his thighs.
I’m transported to that night in the pool and the hot tub and on the couch. His back yard saw a lot of action. My body heats and desire pools between my thighs. I might not be interested in a repeat, but erasing the memory of him is proving difficult.
I storm forward, ignoring the race of my pulse. When he finally sees me, he pauses, and a slow smile turns up his lips. A smile that tells me he knows exactly why I’m here.
“Scarlett. Good to see you today.”
“Cut the crap, Lohan. What did you do with the form?”
“The form?” His brows pull together, and I’d almost believe he was innocent if it weren’t for the smile that doesn’t falter.
He sits on a nearby bench and wipes a towel over his chest. Several players are back here. A few in the ice baths, others on massage tables. Ash lifts his head from where he lies on his stomach while a pretty brunette massages his back. He smiles when he sees me talking to his friend.
I have an irrational flare of jealousy, wondering if Leo gets massaged by her. I don’t want him, but the idea someone else touches him makes me want to scream. That’s totally normal and rational behavior, right?
“The form you filled out yesterday when you came to my office.”
“I left it in your office.”
“Then how come I can’t find it?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Couldn’t say. How was your coffee this morning?”
I wish I hadn’t drank it now. No, that’s a lie. It was delicious. “I poured it down the drain.”
He grins like he knows I’d never do that.
“The form, Leo. I need your form.”
“What are you doing for lunch?”
“Lunch?” Exasperation makes me snap at him.
“Yeah, that meal in the middle of the day. I have a break then so maybe we could meet up, I’ll buy you lunch and fill out the form you misplaced.”
“Or I could bring you another right now.”
He stands and takes a step into my space. I tilt my head up to keep my glare locked on his. His eyes drop to my red lips.
“Can’t,” he says, then lifts his gaze. “Busy until lunch. Twelve-thirty okay?”
He brushes past me, taking his amazing body and the smell of ice and fire with him. “I’ll swing by your office to pick you up.”
At twelve-thirty, I’m ready to go. I have two forms in my hand when he appears in the doorway. Athletic pants and a T-shirt shouldn’t look so good. The ends of his hair are damp and the smell of his soap is divine.
I slap the blank form down on the desk.
“Bring it with us. I’ll sign it after I eat. I’m starving,” he says and motions for me to come closer.
Rolling my eyes, I hold the other up in the air. “I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of filling out one on your behalf.”
He takes it from me, laughing as he reads it. “Under food allergies, you put all.”
“Can’t be too careful.” I take it back. “This is what I’m sending if you don’t fill out this form by the end of lunch. You’ll be eating cardboard all season.”
“Fine,” he says. “Let me feed you first. All that wit and charm you’re hitting me with must be exhausting.”
I assume we’re going to the cafeteria upstairs, but he exits out the back of the building and starts toward his car in the parking lot.
“I’m not getting in that thing.” My steps falter.
“That thing?”
“Your car.” My cheeks warm. The last time I was in it, he had one big hand on my thigh the entire drive and the promise of sex hung around us so thick I was drunk on it.
“I promise to return you in one piece.” He opens the passenger door for me.
“Fine.” I get in the car, ignoring how having his scent surrounding me makes my breaths come in quick shallow gulps. “But I need to be back in forty-five minutes.”
12
ONE NIGHT OF FUN
LEO
I let Scarlett pick the restaurant. She chooses McDonald’s and then stares at me, daring me to tell her no. Ash is going to give me so much shit. Especially after he joked about taking her to get an extra value meal for our second date.
It’s hard to care right now though as she sits across from me dunking a chicken nugget into honey mustard sauce and casually glancing at the form she placed on the table between us.
Bad news for her: even when she’s glaring at me, I like being around her.
I pop a fry in my mouth and lean back in the booth. “Sooo, photography?”
Her gaze narrows.
“I heard you talking to Lindsey yesterday. You didn’t mention it the other night.”
“We didn’t mention a lot of things.”
“Fair enough. Do you have your camera with you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Can I see some of your pictures?”
“There isn’t a lot to show. I’m just practicing and doing favors for friends.”
“What about the ones you take just for you?” I keep staring at her until she rolls her eyes and relents. She pulls her camera from her purse and then comes over to sit beside me. I hadn’t realized asking to see her photos would get her closer, but I’m high-fiving myself as her hair tickles my shoulder.
She powers it on and holds the display where I can see. She skips through a dozen images of Mike’s bar, finally stopping on one of Jade smiling, eyes downcast, hand up to her face, tucking her hair behind one ear.
“She was tired of posing for me at the end, but it ended up being my favorite. She looks so sweet and innocent.” Scarlett snorts like Jade being innocent is funny, then looks over and our eyes lock. Her gaze darts to my mouth and she licks her strawberry red lips. “She’s a chameleon like that. Sweet and polite one minute and ready to hop on the bar and dance the next.”
“Beautiful.”
She looks away first. “She is.”
I meant Scarlett, but something tells me she knows exactly who I was talking about.
“Anyway.” She moves back across from me. “How’s hockey? Ready for the first game?”
I chuckle at how quickly she’s put space between us—both physically and emotionally. “It’s great, and I’m always ready.”
“Of course you are. I bet you spend the entire off-season counting down the days.”
“Something like that.”
She raises both brows pointedly.
“What’s that look?”
“Nothing.” She sets her empty nugget container on the tray and then pushes the form toward me with one pink nail.
“All right. All right. A deal’s a deal.” I fill out the form and she takes it fast, like she’s afraid I’m going to do something with it. I guess I can’t blame her.
“Tell me what the look was about. Is counting down the days for hockey that bad of a sin?” I take our trash and dump it, then hold open the door for her.
“I’ve known guys like you. Your whole world revolves around the sport and everything else is second. At least you’re honest about it.”
Is that me? Hockey is my job, so yeah, it’s important. I love it, too, which makes it easy to focus on. But Scarlett doesn’t know me well enough to be making a judgment call like that, which tells me this isn’t about me.
“Your ex?”
“He is a Formula One driver.”
I nod slowly as I try to picture her with someone else. I don’t like it. “You came second to his career?”
“It was better for his image if I stayed out of the picture.”
She’s quiet, and I’m sorry I pushed her to talk to me. I didn’t mean to poke at old wounds, and I definitely didn’t want to end this date with her thinking of some other guy.
The ride to the arena is silent. I kill the engine, and she immediately goes for the door.
“Wait.” I place a hand on her thigh. Heat travels up my arm. She looks at my hand and I remove it. “You deserve to come first. Always. You’re right not to settle for less. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You didn’t. It was just one night of fun with a stranger, right?”
I nod, but can’t seem to make the word come out of my mouth. It doesn’t feel like an accurate assessment at all.
After our afternoon practice, coach asks me to hang back.
“The A looks good on you,” he says.
“Thanks, Coach. It feels good.” And it does. We’re finding a rhythm with the new guys and I think we’ve got a great team that can win some games this year.
“I don’t know how to say this delicately, so I’m just going to shoot straight with you.”
I gulp. Oh shit. My first thought is he knows I slept with his daughter, but then I realize he’s far too calm.