Tomboy

He wanted to play hockey. It was all he’d ever wanted. But now that it seemed like his skates weren’t covered in toxic sludge, he didn’t want to go back to playing like shit again.

He needed his Lady Luck—that’s why he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It wasn’t because of how he’d made the second stupidest mistake

in his life by almost kissing her in the security office. It definitely wasn’t because he was kinda pissed at himself for listening to reason on that. And most assuredly, it wasn’t because he’d spent the night wondering if she was still wearing his hoodie. She could wear it every day or burn it in her backyard, he didn’t give two shits as long as his luck didn’t turn.

She’d promised him one game. He needed more.

He grabbed his phone off the island and opened his contacts. She was right there under Zach Ate More Tainted Muffins. Yeah, that wasn’t going to do. He tapped on edit and changed the contact name to Lady Luck. Then he stared at it. Yeah. That made him sound like a twelve-year-old. He was not doing that. He shortened it to LL and tapped start message.

Zach: We need to reopen negotiations.

LL: You better not be ditching the appearance.

Zach: Nah, I’m there. Need you at more games.

The talking heads on TV had moved on to football, but he could barely hear them over the blood rushing in his ears. He needed her to say yes.

LL: Negotiations, huh? You wanna get your agent on the line?

He laughed out loud, the rusty sound bouncing off the bare kitchen walls. She was such a smart-ass.

Zach: I can take care of it myself.

LL: Okay. Tell me what you want.

What did he want? That seemed like a bigger question than he had an answer for at the moment. So he kept it simple.

Zach: Pre-game phone calls when I’m on the road and you show up in person to home games.

It took a couple of beats after he hit send, but the three dots in the comment bubble finally appeared.

LL: I do have a job, and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be at your beck and call like that.

Fair enough, but that’s how these negotiations went. His first contract had started off with his agent at the time asking for millions more than he as a rookie was worth.

Zach: So now is when you counter.

LL: Is that how negotiating works? You make an offer and I counter offer?

He didn’t need Fallon here to picture her body language at the moment. No doubt she had her arms crossed, one hip popped out, and a no-shit-Sherlock expression on her face. This is what he got for trying to be nice for once?

Zach: Do you always go for the sarcasm?

LL: Do you always treat people like they’re dumb?

Okay, that had all just escalated way too quickly. Instead of shooting off another text, he hit the info button and then call contact. It rang. And rang. And rang again. Finally, she picked up right before it would have gone to voicemail, but she didn’t say anything.

“I was not meaning to call you dumb,” he said, the words coming out in a rush because he spent most of his time getting out of having conversations—not trying to get people to engage. “I’ve just been through a billion negotiations. It’s not a me-Tarzan-you-Jane thing.”

“Sorry, I’m a little sensitive with all of the comments about how unacceptable I am that people I don’t even know are leaving all over social media.”

Shit. He was hoping she hadn’t seen them. He had. There was a whole man-hands meme going around, a poll on one of the social media sites asking if women like Fallon emasculated men, and a Photoshop challenge to give her a virtual makeover.

“I’m sorry.” And he was. Also? He was a selfish jerk for needing her to put herself out there anyway. If there was any other way, he wouldn’t, but everything was riding on him playing like he was now—and he’d find a way to protect her from the social media attacks. He just needed time to strategize.

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re not the douchebag telling me to get my eyebrows threaded and you didn’t punch the guy out.”

“But I would have.” Hell, he still wanted to. “Making sure people know they can’t mess with my team is pretty much in my job description.”