Fletch doesn’t even look up. “Yup.”
Lane’s expression shifts from casual to mildly threatening in point-five seconds. “Why are you texting my wife?”
“Relax, Romeo. I’m telling her to come down here so you two can make a mutual, adult decision about whether to get a dog, instead of you being suckered into randomly bringing one home because Kai and Mya gave you puppy-dog eyes.”
He tips his head from side to side as if Fletch makes an excellent point and may have just saved his marriage.
“Nothing wrong with random dogs,” I point out.
The entire locker room turns to look at me.
“How many dogs do you have now, Culpepper?” Grady asks.
“Three.”
“Three,” Hayden repeats. “You have three dogs in a two-bedroom apartment.”
“It’s spacious.”
“It’s a fire hazard of fur and dog toys.”
“April is good at training them,” I say defensively. “They’re very well-behaved.”
“But she’s still working on training you.” Grady chuckles.
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The guys exchange looks. The kind of looks that come with a silent conversation I’m not privy to.
“Nothing,” Redd says, way too innocently.
I power up my Superman heat vision and scorch them all.
Mikey flinches. “It’s just that you and April seem pretty close.”
“We’re friends.”
“Right. Friends.” Fletch makes air quotes.
“Best friends,” I clarify.
“Sure,” Mikey says. “Just like how I was ‘just friends’ with Juniper for years.”
“You mean enemies?”
“Same thing.”
“April and I are actually just friends. Period. Full stop.”
Hayden leans back against his locker, arms crossed. “Dude, you literally talk about her every single day.”
“I do not.”
“Yesterday you told us about how she reorganized your pantry over the weekend.”
“That benefited you because I can actually find things now. If you recall, I brought the vat of seven-layer dip to board game night, which I shared with your dumb butts.”
Beau, another goalie, grunts. “It was good.”
