Page 140 of Power Play
The locker room is a blur of victory noise. Slaps on backs, chirping, the stink of sweat and adrenaline. Ollie’s singing something tuneless while Jacko throws towels like grenades and someone chucks a water bottle that misses my head by about an inch.
“Win looks good on you, Murph,” Ollie grins, skidding past in his socks. “Play like that every game and we’ll take the season.”
“Can’t,” I say. “Too busy being emotionally wrecked and wildly in love with a woman who hates my guts.”
Jacko whistles. “That’s the most poetic thing you’ve said all season. Proud of you, Murph.”
“Ta.”
He squints at me. “She was here, wasn’t she?”
“Front row,” I say, towelling off my hair. “Didn’t smile once.”
“That’s basically a love letter from Sophie.”
“Think it means she might not kill me in my sleep,” I mutter. “Which, honestly, is progress.”
Jonno barks something about post-game cooldowns and physio appointments, but I’m already somewhere else. Already thinking about what comes next.
Because now I’ve got confirmation; she hasn’t written me off. And that means I’ve got a shot.
One shot. Maybe the last one I’ll get.
So it has to be huge.
It has to beloud.
It has to be something onlyIwould do.
By the time we get to the pub, I’ve already chewed the cap off a pen and scribbled half a dozen ideas on the back of a napkin. Jacko snatches it from me before I can stop him.
“What the hell is this?”
“Private,” I snap.
He squints. “A mariachi band? A live hawk?”
“It’s a draft.”
“Is this a diagram of a blimp?”
“It’s aconcept, alright?”
Mia slides into the booth beside him, eyes narrowed. “If this is what I think it is, don’t you dare rent a blimp. Sophie will throw herself into traffic.”
“Don’tencouragehim,” Jacko adds, nudging the napkin away like it’s contagious.
“Look,” I say, dropping my head into my hands. “I can’t justtexther anymore. That was phase one. Passive Murphy. Rebuild Murphy. But now we’re at phase two.”
“Which is?”
“Public Humiliation Murphy.”
Ollie looks way too excited. “Oh my God, are you proposing?”
“Jesus, no.”
Mia kicks me under the table. “Then what’s the plan?”
