“Classy, Romero.” Westinghouse gives him the eye and takes a swig from his beer.
“There’ve been some interesting rumors floating around out there about you since my engagement party,” Waters says.
“Oh, yeah?” Lance spins the coaster on the table.
“You might want to watch yourself a little better,” Waters adds.
Lance frowns. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“If you say so.” Waters shrugs. “But if Coach finds out, best-case scenario is you being benched. Worst case you end up traded. That’d be a real shame, considering—ego aside—you’re a good player.” He downs his beer and sets the bottle on the table. “I’m gonna call it a night.”
Westinghouse leaves his beer half-full, pushes back his chair, and nods to us. “See you on the bus.”
Lance waits until they’re gone before he turns to us. “Who the fuck told Waters?”
“Told him what?” I lean back in my chair and glance at Miller, who’s checking his phone for the seventy-fifth time.
He looks up and frowns. “Are you talking about whatever’s going on with you and Tash?”
“Yeah, man. Did you say something?” His accent comes out. Usually the vague hint of Scottish brogue is undetectable, apart from when he’s upset about something.
Miller turns off his phone, which beeps at him, and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why would I tell Alex?”
“I don’t know. You two are all buddy-buddy now, soaping each other’s backs in the shower.”
“Fuck you, Lance. He’s gonna be my brother-in-law. I’m dating his sister. I don’t have much of a choice unless I wanna make my life more difficult. Besides, he’s a good guy. A weirdo, but that’s not much of a surprise considering he’s with Vi and all.”
“Well, someone said something to him.” He spins his bottle between his palms. “It’s not like it’s a big deal.”
“If you say so, but you should be careful. Tash can’t be banging the players she’s training, if that’s what’s going on.” Miller’s phone rings, so he checks it. “I gotta get this.”
It’s obviously Sunny. He takes the call and covers the receiver. “I’mma head up to the room. See you guys later.”
Lance watches him leave. “Do you think I should be worried?”
“Miller’s got a point. It’s not professional. It makes her look bad.”
He pounds back the rest of his beer. “I think I’m done for tonight.”
“Yeah. Good plan. It’s gonna be an early morning.” The bus leaves at nine, and the drive from New York to Toronto for our next game is about eight hours plus stops. We’ll be on the road all day.
Lance and I go our separate ways. When I get to the room, Miller’s in the bathroom talking on his phone. I key in my passcode and find a new message from Lily.
Nice goal.
It was sent more than an hour ago. I’m surprised I missed it. I shoot her a message back.
Thanks. U awake?
I lie down on the bed that isn’t covered in Miller’s discarded clothes and wait for a reply. We’ll be in Toronto by tomorrow night, and I want to know what my plans are going to be.
I’ve already booked a better room than the ones we usually stay in during away games, just in case I need privacy. I’m hoping. My plan is to require privacy as much as I possibly can in the short time we’ll have.
I take off my shirt and lose my pants, dropping them on the floor beside the bed. I’m tired. And in need of release.
My phone vibrates with a message.
Getting ready for bed.
I fire one back.
Pic please.
I get one a few seconds later of her empty bed. It looks small. Not big enough for the things I’d like to get up to with her.
Of u. Not ur bed.
I don’t wait long for her curt reply.
No.
I grin.
Y not?
The inchworm dots appear.
My face looks awful.
An image follows. She’s wearing a paper bag over her head with holes punched through for her eyes. I love that she doesn’t automatically send me naked pictures. I hit the call button. She answers on the first ring. It’s late. After midnight.
“You can beg all you want. I’m not sending a picture.”
“I have a ticket for the game on Friday. I’ll deal with no picture if it means I’m going to see you.”
“About that—”
I get this sinking feeling low in my gut. It’s not something I’m used to. Girls usually bend over backward, literally, to get what I’m offering. I brush it off and roll with it. “You don’t wanna come?”
“It’s not that. I have to work. I can’t get out of my shifts.”
“Call in sick.”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. It’s easy. You pretend you have the flu, and you call in. Then you come to the game. Then we get naked, and I make you come.”
She snort-laughs. “You make it sound so appealing. I wish it was that simple.”
“I’ve already got a room booked. I can rent a car and drive you back the next morning to wherever you have to be.”