Page 68 of Pickled
“You’re crowding the kitchen line,” he said after I missed an easy shot.
“You’re hitting everything like you’re trying to break the paddle. This isn’t hockey.”
“It’s hard to believe that you have a tennis background, or did you lie about that too?” His eyes narrowed.
I stopped. His words stung. “Maybe if you’d given me a chance to explain, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Gideon’s jaw tightened. “A chance to explain? You lost that chance when you decided I was too shallow to handle your ‘truth,’ whatever the hell that is.” He air quoted “truth.”
“And you proved me right!” My voice was getting louder, but I couldn’t seem to control it.
Gideon’s eyes flashed. “You want to know what disgusts me? It’s not that you clean houses. It’s that you thought so little of me that you assumed I’d care.”
“Then why did you walk away?”
“Because you lied to me! About everything that mattered!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.” Lisa ran around the net. Our argument had drawn us closer together, and she had to squeeze in between us to push us apart. “Stop it.”
We were both breathing hard. Lisa backed away, looking like she regretted the setup. As she should. I wasn’t sure whether I was angrier at Gideon or her.
“You know what the worst part is?” Gideon said, his voice deadly quiet. “For a few minutes there, I actually thought we could make this work. That maybe we could put the past aside and just play.”
“And now?”
“Now I remember why I walked away the first time.” He picked up his water bottle and towel. “Good luck finding another partner, Piper. You’re going to need it.”
“I don’t need luck. And I sure as hell don’t need you,” I hissed. “Go to hell, Gideon.”
“Already there, thanks to you. Lisa, I’m sorry this didn’t work out.”
He was walking away when I called after him. “You’re exactly what I thought you were. Just another entitled hockey player who thinks the world revolves around him.”
Gideon stopped and turned back. “And you’re a liar who hates herself.”
“I hate you.” I meant it.
“Good. That makes two of us.”
Lisa put her hand on my arm. “Piper, you’re making a scene.”
I hadn’t noticed we had an audience. Three of Judy’s luncheon club ladies, the young, hot ones, had slowed their walk to stare at the court. I was surprised they hadn’t pulled out their phones to film some “content.”
“Show’s over,” I muttered as I walked past them.
“Well,” said the blonde one who looked like Margot Robbie’s sister, “that was the best thing I’ve seen all week.”
I stopped walking. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, nothing personal,” the blonde replied. “That was passionate. Fiery.”
My nostrils flared. It took everything in me to not slap the smile off her perfect face. “Glad I could entertain you.”
The redhead leaned on the fencing. “Gideon’s a catch. How did someone like you get with him?” She studied her nails instead of looking at me.
The brunette, the one who was at the hockey game, patted my shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find someone suitable.”
In my mind, I’d already pulled her long brown hair.
