Crap.
Things areseriouslywrong.
Forty-Three
I’m not even dressedwhen my phone rings with a call.
It’s Maggie.
I grin at her name on my screen.
We beat the Rhino’s two to one. I had an excellent game. And I’d bet money that my girl is still in the building. I am in a very pleasant mood.
I walk back toward the showers and hold my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“I need you to come here.” She whimpers more than speaks.
“Maggie?” I say, feeling the blood drain from my face. “What’s the matter?”
“Just come.” Her voice cracks. “I’m in the locker room.”
I don’t waste time putting the rest of my clothes on. I’m in sweatpants. No shoes, no shirt. And yet, if I were in my boxers, I’d race from this room as is. No time to dress.
I charge through the crowded locker room.
“Lucca,” Roman says. “Where’s the fire?”
But I ignore him. I hurry through the exit and down thequiet hall, pushing through the door of the women’s locker room.
“Maggie?” I round the first set of lockers to see her sitting in front of the large floor-to-ceiling mirror. There are tears on her cheeks, and her nose is as red as a strawberry.
She runs a hand down her face. She pushes herself up from the floor, and I rush over. But she holds out a hand, not allowing me to embrace her.
Did I do something wrong?
“Why didn’t you argue with my call today?”
My brow furrows and I search the ground, making sense of what she’s saying. “I—I don’t know.”
“It was alousycall. But you didn’t argue.” A cry heaves from her chest, and tears fill her eyes.
I step one inch closer, but she shakes her head. So, I did do something wrong? “Uh—it was a decent call. I clipped the guy.”
“Barely!” she bellows. “You barely touched him. You were clearly going for the ball.” She exhales and, in a low voice, huffs out, “It was kind of a fire move.”
I can’t stop the grin that tickles my cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I gave you a yellow card!”
“I noticed.” I don’t understand what’s happening here. “Are you saying you disagreed with your own call?” I lift one brow, waiting for an answer, utterly confused.
“Yes!” She flaps her arms at her sides.
I scratch the whiskers on my chin. “This is new. And I’m sorry, I should understand what’s happening here, but I’m a bit confused at the moment.”
She covers her face with both hands and cries into her palms.
“Maggie Pie,” I whisper, stepping closer. I wrap both arms around her, and she cries into my chest. “Shh,” I tell her. “It’sall right.” I never imagined one lousy call would make her this upset.
