Page 35 of Lucky
He’s recording a TikTok.
I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I know that smirk.He grins like he’s just won something, and I’m guessing I’m the punch line.Or the headline.Or both.
My mouth drops open and I call out, “Are you filming me right now?”
He doesn’t answer.Just keeps walking, casually lifting his hand in a wave before climbing into his Tahoe.
I stare after him, completely flustered.I should be annoyed.I should yell something clever.Instead, I fumble for my keys with a ridiculous smile spreading across my face.
That man is a menace wrapped up in a confoundingly charming package.
And I think I might like it.
CHAPTER 12
Lucky
The gym atthe team’s hotel in Dallas is about what you’d expect—rows of treadmills facing a muted television, a rack of mismatched dumbbells, and a pile of damp towels that I’m pretty sure haven’t been rotated out since Tuesday.But it’s quiet, which is what I need.
Just me, the low whir of my stationary bike, and an older man walking slowly on a treadmill.He didn’t recognize me when I walked in, which isn’t unusual at away games.Fans tend to know what their own players look like and not the enemy.At least, not third-line enemies.Sure, Drake, Penn, Stone… those guys always get recognized no matter what.That doesn’t bother me in the slightest, and in fact, I just realized… that kind of makes me more normal.
More average.
More acceptable to Winnie’s high standards.Or are they low standards?I’m not clear on that, but I intend to address it on our next date.
I’ve already done weights, stretched and burned through a few miles of cardio.Now I’m killing time, scrolling TikTok like a stalker.Which, let’s be honest, isn’t far off.
Winnie posted a video last night about our breakfast—just her, sitting in her car with sunlight streaming through the windshield.She was smiling like she doesn’t quite trust it, hair a little windblown, eyes soft.
Her caption reads:When the guy who stitched your dating experiment buys you pancakes, listens more than he talks, and makes you laugh until your cheeks hurt.
#BreakfastWithLucky #SecondDateEnergy #StillNotAverage
I grinned like a fool when I watched it and maybe about ten times since.Something about the way she looks in that video knocks the wind out of me.No filter, no fancy angles—just her.Her eyes are this ridiculous shade of hazel that catch every bit of light.And her mouth… God, when she talks, it’s expressive in a way that pulls you in.The corners lift before she even finishes a thought.It’s not just pretty, it’s disarming.
It makes me want to kiss the fuck out of her and that realization hits me hard.This isn’t just about experimenting and gaining more TikTok fame.I’m attracted to her in a way that I know I’ll never be satisfied with a few dates.
And that hits me square in the gut.This woman, with her smart mouth and soft eyes, is rapidly becoming the only thing I want to keep watching.
I glance through the comments and they’re a mix of support, swooning and some douchey comments.
@BookishBarista:You two are so cute I’m filing a formal complaint with the universe.
@TenureTrackChaos:Is it too soon to ask if Buttermilk approves?
@WafflesOverMen:This is what serotonin looks like.
I heart a few, even reply to one.Then I keep scrolling until another catches my eye.
@RealityCheckRenee:He’s way out of her league and we all know it.
The flare of anger within me burns hot and I have to restrain myself not to blast this person.Winnie didn’t, nor does she ever.I’ve seen the way she handles negativity, and that’s simply to ignore it.
She’s a better person than I am and without thinking about it, I respond: @RealityCheckRenee.You have it backward.She’s way out of mine.
“Fucking morons,” I mutter, and the old man turns around to glare at me.“Sorry.”
I continue the slow pedaling cool-down on the bike, and that’s when I get a new notification that @WinnieTheNotWild has posted.
