Page 20 of Slapshot
I admit that it was an extreme way to show him I wasn’t someone he could hit on at the bar, give me a few compliments and get the Declan Dalager life story, but if I let him slide, the others will do the same. Still, it gave me more pleasure than I expected. He’s fun to mess with.
I’m smiling down at my phone, texting Vivian to see what her plans are later, when I walk into the equipment room.
Movement catches my eye and my steps falter.
“What are you doing here?”
Lex’s eyes widen and then a slow smile pulls his lips into a cheeky grin that is hard to hate. “Laundry… well, sort of.”
I huff a laugh at the pile of folded jerseys he’s working on. “First time?”
“Doing my own laundry because our equipment manager has it out for me? Yeah.”
“I meant doing laundry. Period.”
“Nah. Though I usually cram several weeks of dirty clothes into a single load and I’m afraid I’m hopeless at folding.” He gives up pleating the jersey he’s holding and drops it to the table.
I forget myself and laugh again. “Don’t hurt yourself. I’ve got it.”
“Just making sure my jersey made it in.”
Silently, I move to the sewing machine.
“And hoping to get on your good side again. I’m sorry about the other night. The guys did send me over, but I really did want to get to know you.”
Translation, he wanted to know more about growing up with the great Declan Dalager.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve not thought about any of you enough to divide you into columns of good or bad.”
“No? Because I’m the only guy whose jersey missed the good smelling magic you worked in here.”
“It’s called laundry detergent. How long exactly did you guys go without someone doing your laundry? Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“We took turns. Captain had us compete to decide who had to do laundry. I never lose a shootout.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Lex leans against the table. “So, what’s your deal?”
“I don’t have a deal.”
“What are you into? What do you do for fun?”
“I like long walks on the beach, pina coladas, and working in silence. Alone.”
He shakes his head slowly. “All right. I can take a hint.”
“Could have fooled me,” I mutter under my breath.
He pushes off the desk and I can hear him moving behind me. “I put all the equipment back and wiped down the benches in the locker room.”
I grunt a response that’s not exactly appreciative but acknowledges his words.
“You’re welcome,” he singsongs, his voice getting farther away. “Later Kaitlyn.”
I don’t turn around or move until I’ve finished the repairs, but when I do it’s to fully appreciate the clean locker room and organized equipment.
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