Page 46 of Relationship Goals

I finally letmyself text her when I’m sitting in what the guys like to call the torture tubs. Filled with ice water, the tubs are both the bane of my existence and one of the most effective ways to stop the persistent ache in my joints after practice.

Four of us at a time can sit alongside each other in the physical therapy room, and of course Gold chooses the tub next to me as soon as I pick up the damned phone.

“Who’re you texting?” he asks.

I glare at him.

“Abigail Hunt?” he guesses, grinning at my scowl. “Have you called her since last night?”

“No,” I answer, surprising us both by speaking at all. Fuck. Now I’ve given him an invitation to offer up advice on my love life or lack thereof, when all I want to do is figure out how to ask her to see me again.

“Is she coming to the game?” he continues.

I sink lower into the ice bath, the initial shock of cold beginning to turn to a sort of slow-burning fiery sensation. Pain prickles through my skin, and I grit my teeth, knowing it will turn to numbness soon enough.

And then the physical therapist will take out her frustrations on my calves while I bite my tongue and make myself hold still.

Marino still hasn’t lived down the way he begged for mercy in Italian during his first session with her three years ago. I can’t help snorting at the memory.

“Are you laughing about asking her to come watch?”

“Nah. I was thinking about Marino and the PT—”

“No,” Marino says, glaring at me with his pretty-boy face. He gets on the other side of me, and I roll my eyes. “Do not think about me at all. Wipe it from your memory.”

Gold lets out a laugh, and my fingers hover over the screen. Do I ask her to come watch? I haven’t invited a woman to a game since…my last girlfriend, over three years ago. Haven’t felt like dating since her, either.

Not that I would have even asked Abigail out were it not for the goddamned owners.

“He’s deciding whether to ask the movie star to our match,” Gold tells Marino.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl.

They both laugh, and then Marino curses in Italian as the ice starts working on him.

I should invite her. It would be one more way to convince the owners I’m trying things on their terms, that I want to be released from the roster of players they won’t trade. I get to see Abigail, and I get another piece of ammunition for moving off the Aces and back to Seattle.

“He looks constipated,” Marino says in a hushed voice to Gold. “Do you think she would date me instead?”

Theyshouldhave asked Marino to date her instead of me. He’s more outgoing, he’s pretty, he’s talented—even if he’s not as talented as he believes he is—and he has just as much star-power potential as I do.

The thought turns my stomach, and I tap out a message.

Luke:I enjoyed dinner with you

I send it before I think about it too hard, then immediately regret it. I should have asked her to the damned game.

Abigail answers nearly immediately, and my chest tightens slightly. I flex my feet in the ice, the numbness beginning to creep through my body.

Abigail:Me too! I’m going to your game tomorrow. Michelle invited me. I hope that’s not weird. I didn’t want you to think it was too much

“She’s already going to the game,” I say gruffly.

Gold cracks his eyes open, his head tilted back on the lip of the tub. “Good. Now tell her you want her there.”

“Unless you don’t want her there,” Marino pipes up. “Then I will date her.”

I look at him. Casually. Hold his stare.

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