Page 30 of The Puckable Playbook

“Meet my family, fall in love with them, take it easy on me.”

“Oh, is that it?”

I nod.

“Well, it is working,” she says, shoulders deflating like all fight is leaving her.

“You could watch the game tape with me?”

She unlocks our suite door. “I’d rather throw myself off the roof.”

She really hates hockey. How is she supposed to write a positive article about the sport if she despises it? Man, girls are complicated. That was one piece of advice my father gave me that still adds up. The man’s a certified genius. Though, I’m not sure you have to be a genius to come to that conclusion.

Len throws up a hand, calling out, “Have a good night,” as she walks directly to her room.

I stop in the mouth of the hallway, taking in the suite. It’s nice to have a clean, organized space. To not have some dude passed out, drooling on his bed. And the smells some guys can produce… I shiver.

This is heaven.

A part of me is scared to leave school, but the other part is so ready for it. I can stay with my parents until I’m settled. Not ideal because they are a bit nosey, but it’s better than other options.

I grab some snacks and relax into the couch before casting the game tape I asked Coach for onto the TV.

Half an hour later, Len comes out. “How can you still eat?” she asks as I bring a tortilla chip topped with salsa to my mouth. “Your mom cancook. I feel like I gained ten pounds.”

She’s back to wearing her frumpy pajamas, and since I’ve now seen her in leggings and know the shape of her body, she most certainly did not put on ten pounds. “Carb loading.”

She grins, shaking her head all the way to the kitchen. Glasses rattle around and then I feel her behind me. “Number 9, right?”

How does she know my number? The question sits on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t ask because it dawns on me that the reason is something I don’t want to think about. “That’s me.”

Surprisingly, she stays there. “You’re good, James.”

I burst out laughing.

“What?”

“Such a fantastic compliment coming from someone who hates hockey.”

She doesn’t make a sound, and when I peer up, her cheeks are red. Coming around the couch, she sits on the opposite end. “Well, it wasn’t hard to guess. You scored a goal in that footage.”

She stays put, and I find myself looking at her more than I do the tape. Her profile is smooth. Pretty, even.

Surprise runs through me. I tilt my head, taking more of her in. She’s wearing an oversized shirt and even bigger bottoms, but they tug tight around her ass as she brings her leg up. She’s got the sexy girl-next-door look going on right now. Like in that Taylor Swift “You Belong With Me” video, the friend you suddenly find pretty, even though Len and I were never really friends. I looked past her whenever Trish was around, which was a mistake. If today is anything to go by, I would’ve had a better time with Len.

“Hey.”

She spins toward me.

“Why did you introduce yourself to my dad as Lenore?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I felt like I needed to be someone different to pull off a meeting with your family.” She settles back, taking a drink. “Turns out, I’m not sure I had to. They were so accepting.”

“They are. So what do you want to be called? Or are we back to square one?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question, relationship guru? Which one is more attractive, Lenore or Len?”

I wave her away. “I’m not deciding on your name. That’s preposterous.”

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