“C’mon, baby,” I urge, coaxing it along the court with the power of my words and will till it smacks the target ball.
I thrust my arms in the air, victorious. “Pretty sure I’m undefeated now,” I tell my teammates at The Gameyard, a new Cozy Valley bar and grill that’s known for its good food, but also its lawn games. My teammates kidnapped me a few months ago and forced me to join them for theirexcursions. I’ve made them regret that every day by beating their asses every time I play. Like I did just now.
“Why did we want him to join our club again?” Corbinasks with a groan as he records my winning score on a piece of paper. “It’s bad enough I had to see him at my bakery last night.”
“It’s okay,” Ivan says, then lifts his phone and snaps a picture of me. “We have blackmail power now. We can release photos of you being social.”
“No one would believe they’re real anyway,” I say with a scoff, then sink down into a lawn chair, relaxing. It’s good to chill for a bit after we all met for a hard workout this morning at Miller’s home gym. We’ll hit the road tonight for some away games.
“That’s true,” Riggs says thoughtfully, twisting at the label on his bottle of bubbly water. “Everything is fake these days.”
I flinch. Does he know about my fake romance? Do they suspect it’s all a ruse? But how could they?
“And I’d deny it,” I say, keeping the focus far away from my inner thoughts and my outer dating life. “And thank you for inviting me to your Lawn Men Club so I could eviscerate you.”
“Feel free to leave now,” Miller says, nodding to the bar. “And don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“You’re stuck with me schooling you now,” I say.
“And since we’re stuck, let’s talk Montreal,” he says, shifting gears to chat about the team we’ll be playing next on their turf. “They lost their star forward and their offense has been weaker this season. We need to control the blue line and be aggressive with puck possession.”
“And that also means the D-men need to keeptheirD-men off the puck too,” Ivan puts in.
We dig into a game plan, something we’ll share with the other guys on the plane and the coaches. When we’re done, Ivan turns back to me, stroking his chin.
“You went to the coffee shop the other day. For a team promo.”
It doesn’t sound like a harmless observation. More like a setup. “Yeah,” I say, nonchalant.
“What’s that about? Is this another layer of the Lake onion?” Riggs asks.
“Just wanted to help,” I say.
“More like help your new woman,” Ivan says with a satisfied grin, then wiggles his bushy brows. “You’ve got it bad. Admit it.”
“Please,” I say, adding a scoff to sell it.
Riggs pats me on the back. “Our boy is smitten.”
I turn it right back to him. “Like you too, Fanboy,” I say, using the nickname Corbin gave him when he pursued and fell for a reality show star—now his girlfriend.
“Yep. I’m calling it,” Ivan says, then reaches for his wallet. “Here’s a grand on Lake falling in love.”
I double scoff. They have no idea how far off they are. “I’ll bet against it.”
Corbin whistles, then shoots me a sharp stare. “You really want to go there?”
Remy deserves the world. She deserves a man who’s not broken. She deserves someone who believes in romance.
And that’s just not me.
“I do,” I say, and I bet against us.
18
THE PERFECT SQUISH
REMY
