I grip his proffered hand. “Hansley, nice to meet you in person.”
He grins. His eyes flicker beyond me to Lemon’s door. “I see you’ve met Coach Lemon.”
Frowning, I glance back before continuing down the hall with them alongside me. “Yes. I’m still confused about why he hates me.”
Alka laughs. “He hates everyone. I win championships, so he hates me. I have a porn star husband, so he hates me. Declan and I fake dated when he wanted Declan, so he hates me.”
“I didn’t want him, so he hates me,” Declan adds, shrugging. “I don’t show favoritism to football or his athletes, so he hates me.”
“That sounds exhausting,” I admit.
They chuckle.
“You get used to it,” Alka says, “and learn to find amusement in it and how to avoid situations where you have to deal with him as best you can.”
I shake my head. Putting yesterday’s kiss out of my mind, I decide that it was obviously a mistake. It doesn’t matter. That’s fine. Perfect. Knowing this, I can move on easily enough.
“He’s lived up to his name. Lemon is sour and bitter, just like the fruit he’s named for,” Alka says sadly, shaking his head.
“Clearly he just needs a little sugar to make him sweeter. Like lemonade,” Declan teases with a smirk.
While they banter about Lemon, I muse over the things he’s said in the last two confrontations. They’re right about one thing—he’s a bitter man. Angry. And then there’s the other thing that was made much clearer just now.
Lemon Frost wants me to fail. I will not give him that satisfaction.
CHAPTER 7
LEMON
Istill hate the idea of fundraising. Everything about it just makes me cringe. I only stop pulling the hockey flyers down when Dean Devaroe comes to my office to tell me to stop. Apparently, students have seen me do it several times. Arguing that he’s not even in this building doesn’t help my cause.
Amelia, Devaroe’s receptionist, calls me and tells me to act like a grown man and stop throwing a tantrum for not getting my way. I think she’d have said more, but she cut herself off. “Watch what you say and do, Frost,” she told me, her tone icy. “You already have a very long list of transgressions in HR. The students see you.”
Now I’m pouting in my office. I don’t want to get fired over this, that would just be stupid. But I’m so damn angry. This isn’t fair!! And then he had the audacity to show up in my office and try to show me pity by inviting me to participate in his events! Ugh. How does no one else besides me see how manipulative that is?!
It’s fine. I don’t need to remake the wheel. That’s what Sugar told me last night. She’s right. I have more than a hundred players at my disposal. I can take these cliché fundraisers thateveryone does and make them great. They’ll get the Lemon treatment and it will be great.
I’ve even run the ideas by my coaching staff and while many of them were frowning at me for whatever reason, they agreed. Mostly.
“You cannot require them to wear Speedos,” Coach Norman said.
“That’s the point of the sexy car wash,” I say, waving my hand to encompass the other things, too. “How else will I attract a lot of people?”
“Because it’s for a good cause?” Coach Leonard suggests.
I roll my eyes. “I need extra draw. Pizzazz. Otherwise, why not just go to the automatic wash down the road where they’re fully clothed?”
“If you want a sexual harassment suit against you, by all means, require them to wear Speedos,” Norman deadpans.
“That’s not?—”
“It is,” several of my coaches say in unison, interrupting me.
“It’s no different than if Dean Devaroe required you to come into work in a thong and nothing else because it fit his agenda,” Norman says.
I’m sure it’s different. A completely different situation. While I’m not sure how it’s different, I’m confident it is. However, I give in. We willsuggestbathing suits of whatever nature they choose, but obviously they can wear whatever they want.
Before practice, I head to The Queer Palace Café for a drink and a sandwich. Amelia’s words ring in my mind, so I try to keep my irritated expression as neutral as I know how. I’m not sure I succeed since everyone still gives me a wide berth. Maybe I ought to work on my expressions.
