Page 118 of Pipe Dreams
“Shh!” Lauren said suddenly, squeezing his hand, and stopping on the sidewalk. “Look!” she whispered.
“At what?” he asked, sotto voce.
She pointed.
Ahead of them, the sidewalk passed the curved facade of an office building, with a nearly deserted plaza outside it. A couple had paused there under a street light, the man’s hands on the woman’s waist. As they watched, he leaned forward to give her a lingering kiss.
Lauren made an excited little squeak beside him. “That’s Nate and Rebecca!”
“Uh-huh,” he agreed. “But honey—I knew they were a thing.”
Her glance cut toward him. “What? How? You didn’t tell me!”
“You’re the one who knows Nate best,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “I just assumed you knew. But remember that night I, uh, let myself into your hotel room in Bal Harbour?”
She gave him a smile. “How could I forget?”
“The next morning when I snuck out of your room and let myself into mine, he was sneaking out of Rebecca’s.”
“No way!” Lauren giggled. “Finally!”
“Finally,” he agreed, but only because he could see the hotel in the distance. “Is it safe to keep walking now?”
Lauren squinted toward Nate and Rebecca, who were now walking toward the hotel, hand in hand. “Looks like it.”
“Good. Because I’m going to take you up to my room now, and nobody is sneaking out afterward.”
She wrapped an arm around his back. “Sounds perfect.”
And it was.
THIRTY-THREE
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
There was a delay boarding the team jet in St. Louis.
The Bruisers were in the middle of a six-day road trip, so the players weren’t feeling bent out of shape by the holdup. They weren’t racing home to their girlfriends or families. Tonight would mean another hotel bed and another team dinner.
Beacon was feeding quarters into a claw machine, trying to win a stuffy for Elsa. “Trevi—it’s going to work this time. Are you ready?”
“Sure, man,” he chuckled, holding up Beacon’s Katt Phone. “Go.”
The video was for Elsa’s benefit. Because he’d finally figured out how to position the claw properly before lowering its metallic jaws toward the toys. She’d freak if this worked.
He fed in the quarters and began the work of angling the jaw into the corner where the toys were piled the highest.
“It’s a tough angle,” Trevi narrated for the video’s benefit. “But he’s a skilled competitor...”
“And... now,” he said to himself, dropping the claw.
“Go, baby!” Trevi enthused. “YEAHHH!” the kid whooped as the claws closed around something. “Will it be the pink pig? Or that blue thing...”
The mechanical arm jolted, lifting not one buttwotoys in its steel teeth. Unbelievable.
“Looking good as he heads into the dismount,” Trevi said. “This could be a world record...”
Unbelievably, both the pig and a little blue bulldog dropped into the corner where the chute was. Mike yanked them out and laughed.
