Page 28 of False Play
“Thank you?” I replied more as a question.
“What about the cat, though? Won’t he get stressed?”
“He’s usually fine for a few hours.” I shrugged. “We’ll take my truck, come on.”
She rose from the couch and shrugged. “Okay. Let me go get my shoes.”
My eyes narrowed in her direction. “It was way too easy to convince you.”
She laughed. “Honestly? I hate driving, and my favorite store is not within walking distance from here.”
“Ah, so you’reusingme.”
She grinned. “You told me to use you. I’m just taking you up on your offer.”
It took everything in me not to reply with, “Oh, you can use me, alright. For everything and anything you’d like.”
Instead, I laughed without a word.
This was fine. No reason to be nervous. We were going grocery shopping. Total normal roommate behavior.
And, come on, it was only a store. What couldpossiblygo wrong?
NINE
KENNEDY
I CONSIDERED IT WELL-DESERVED KARMA.
If you had toldme I was going to my favorite store with my brand-new roommate—who was Henry Anderson, of all people—I would have laughed in your face.
Oh, how life took strange turns.
The car ride was, unsurprisingly, plain awkward.
I’d kept my distance from the guys. Never went to Tim’s or celebrated any big wins with them. Not because I didn’t want to. I was sure most people thought I was a stuck-up bitch. But the reality was, I wanted the Strikers organization to recognize my worth for my work, not for being pals with their players. It opened a risk I wasn’t willing to take.
Though Anderson had taken every opportunity over the years to get under my skin, and I couldn’t lie—he succeeded a few times. He loved being a shameless flirt and a jokester. I’d always found his personality annoying, and…a lot. But now we were roommates, and I needed to work on being nicer to him and to the rest of the team, too.
When I broke up with Joe, I realized how secluded I’d become. It was why I went to Tim’s after the home openergame, despite the clusterfuck that day had been. I needed to go out and socialize more.
I was in the midst of a mid-life crisis, trying to figure out who I was, single. On top of that, I needed to learn how to let go of the reins a little. It felt like high school all over again—when you’re trying to figure out who you are and where you belong. It was draining as hell.
Henry parked then put on a black cap and pulled up the hood of his gray hoodie, successfully hiding his face enough so he wouldn’t get recognized.
He hopped out of the truck. “Stay right there.”
Before I could question him, he shut his door, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door for me.
I shot him an unimpressed glare. “You’re such a cliché, Anderson.”
“You say cliché, I say gentleman. My mother taught me how to treat women,” he quipped very matter-of-factly.
“And what about that attitude of yours? Did she teach you that, too?” I asked as I hopped out of the truck.
He shut the door with a hearty laugh, sending unexpected shivers down my spine. “Fuck, I forget how feisty you tend to be.”
A smug smile stretched across my face as I grabbed a shopping cart. “I’ll take that as a compliment, so thanks.”
