Page 61 of Offensive Plays
I turn to look at Libby skating alongside her nephew and brother. She’s gliding.
“Is she single then?” The guy asks.
Is he serious right now?
“As far as I know,” I mutter.
“She really is gorgeous,” he says tracking her movements. I feel bile rise into my throat at the comment.
“She is,” I admit.
The little girl is listening in because she says to her dad, “You should date her. She skates better than you.”
He laughs and looks at his daughter. “That’s all the more reason why I shouldn’t date her, Carly. She’d skate laps around me. I’d never be able to keep up.”
“Nobody can keep up with Libby O’Connor,” I say from the corner of my mouth.
I hope he takes the hint. I know Libby is a beautiful girl. But now, she’s my girl. At least for all intents and purposes.
“Well maybe she can teach you like Mr. Ferguson is teaching me.”
Carly’s dad looks pensive as we pass the trio. Libby watches us skate by, her arms resting against the boards as she leans back and chats with her companions who are pausing for a break.
“Could you maybe put a good word in for me?” The man asks.
My face shoots in his direction, “Me?”
“Yeah. She’s your teammate’s sister, right? I’m sure you guys talk.”
I rub the back of my head, looking over at her before meeting his eyes again.
“Yeah, I can… put in a good word, I guess.”
When we’re done with the lesson, Carly and Phil thank me for volunteering my time and ask me to keep them posted on what Libby says.
I bring my hand up to my forehead and hit it a few times. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
There’s no way in a million years I’d willingly convince Libby to pursue another guy. Much less one who admittedly is trying to turn his life around.
But I gave them my word.
So I’m officially the world’s biggest idiot.
Chapter 16
Libby
“You know what they say!” Kesley squeals next to me. “What happens in Vegas…”
“Get’s plastered all over Page Six?” I say with a smirk.
“I mean, I really hope not. Because I intend to do some pretty questionable things with my husband while I’m here.”
“Ew. Please don’t talk about sexy things when it has to do with my brother,” I say, my nose scrunching at her comment.
She giggles to herself as she pulls her luggage behind her.
We don’t fly with the team like Rina and Izzy do. But technically I’m here to help with the Heatwave social media efforts so for the first time I’m not only going to be watching the game—I’m going to be posting about it too.