Page 33 of Sure Shot
She flinches. “You and I aren’t a good idea.”
Now there’s a blow to my ego. “Not true,” I argue. “I’m gonna have good ideas all day long, and you’ll be the star of all of them. Besides, you’re the only one in Brooklyn who likes me.”
“Not true,” she echoes, her expression softening. “At least it won’t be true for long. You’re a good guy, Tank. And agreatplayer. They just need a little time to adjust to your way of doing things. Maybe you should spend some bonding time with the team.”
“I’m not here to make friends. And you didn’t answer the question. When am I seeing you again?”
“I don’t know,” Bess says softly. “We can’t have a fling, Tank. Not like we did before.”
“Why the hell not?” And is it just me, or aren’t we having one already? “You’re not the new girl at the agency anymore, trying to make a good impression.”
“You’re right. The stakes are even higher now.” She trails a hand down my ribcage even as she gives me the brushoff. “I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t date players. And it’s not like you really need any gossip swirling around you, either.”
“I don’t care what strangers say about me. They can fuck right off.”
This conversation is interrupted by her phone ringing. Or maybe it’s mine. I’m still not used to my new phone. “Is that me or you?”
“It’s mine. Get off me so I can see who’s having today’s first emergency.”
But I don’t. I grab her phone off the bedside table and hand it to her.
“Eric?” she says, answering. “Is something wrong?”
“Yeah,” he says, and since I’m six inches from the phone I can hear him. “What’s wrong is that you didn’t answer any of my texts during the game last night. And then this morning I remembered that you went on a Tinder date with a stranger. So then I worried you were dead.”
I chuckle before I realize that I shouldn’t.
Bess gives me a very stern look just as Eric’s voice says, “Who’s that with you?”
“The TV,” she says. “I’m not dead.”But you might be, her eyes threaten.
She gives me a little shove, and I allow myself to be pushed off her body. I grab my briefs off the floor and head for the bathroom so she can talk to her business partner in peace.
“That reallywasthe TV,” I hear her say. “Believe whatever you want. I appreciate your concern, though.”
I can no longer hear the phone, but I’m certain Eric Bayer is laughing.
When I leave five minutes later, I make sure to steal a kiss. I make it a good one, because I need her to realize that she and I aren’t over.
* * *
Unfortunately, my new teammates aren’t as happy to see me as Bess was.
In the heat of a drill, I swing around to catch a pass, but there is no puck flying toward me. Instead, Jason Castro is on his ass on the ice, looking pissed-off, while Ivo skates away with the puck looking pleased with himself.
The whistle is loud and shrill. “Again!” yells the assistant coach.
“What the fuck was that?” Castro spits, getting up.
“You tell me,” I grumble. “If you got the pass off, I would have scored.”
“Really,Sure Shot?” he scoffs, using my old nickname. “You can’t get the pass if you’re outta position! The blue line is that way.” He jerks a thumb toward a spot behind him.
“I was open and ready. It’s not my fault you can’t find my stick with a compass and a map.”
“Because you’re in the wrong fucking place!”
“Not hardly,” I snap. “Get a clue. I’m not here to do things the same way you’ve always done them. And I wouldn’t be standing here if Coach didn’t think your playbook needed a few fresh pages.”
