Page 12 of So Pucking Over You
I nod. We drive to the sandwich shop and order three footlong sandwiches and each down a cup of soup in deference to the dropping temperatures. A light snow has started to fall, getting heavier and heavier as we proceed, impacting visibility and slowing us down to an almost crawl. The highway message signs are flashing warnings to get off the road until the storm passes. We’ve come across at least three cars abandoned off the side of the highway and traffic is non-existent.
Oakley’s phone rings. She glances at me. It’s Gordy, she mouths before answering. “What’s up?”
She pauses, concern etched on her face. “Let me put you on speaker.”
“Get the hell off the road,” he snaps. “There’s a five-car pileup in front of us. We’re going to be stuck here for hours, and the weather is predicted to get worse. I want to know you’re safe.”
“We’re fifteen miles from the next exit,” I respond. “I’m familiar with the town and was already planning on pulling off. Once we’re settled, we’ll let you know where we are.”
“Take care of my sister. I’ll keep you posted on what’s going on with us. We’re down to seventy-two hours before the next game. If we even get home in time, we’re going to be playing onno real rest. If we have to push to the next day we’ll be playing back to back games again. This sucks.”
“Don’t buy trouble. We’ll deal with it as it comes.”
Creeping down the highway, it takes us almost an hour to get to the town. There’s a motel right off the exit next to a truck stop and diner.
Stopping to fill up at the gas station first we go to the motel next. I get the last room available, a single queen bed.
“Why don’t we get our stuff into the room then walk over to the diner for a hot meal. No telling how long this storm is going to last, or when we’ll be able to get back on the road. All we’ve had is junk food today,” I suggest getting my thoughts off the single bed.
I woke this morning to her cuddled against my side, one arm over my chest and a leg thrown over my thighs. It took me ten minutes to slide out from underneath her without waking her. Then another ten in the shower to get my boner under control. I don’t know if I can handle another night like that.
She nods in agreement.
Inside we both layer up. She pulls a sweatshirt over her thermal top. This one saysI don’t need your attitude. I brought my own.
After pulling on our boots, we walk to the diner. The place is packed but we’re led to a small table for two next to the window. We’re barely seated when her phone pings, pings again, then pings once more. She glances at her screen and frowns.
“Something wrong?”
She chews her lips for a minute then shakes her head. “No. All’s fine.” She texts a reply and lies the phone on the table.
The waitress comes and we both order the meatloaf special. After taking one sip of her coffee, she folds her arms on the table and meets my gaze. “So, tell me. How’d you recognize Sabrina White?”
I’ve been waiting for this question from her. “During the off season I went to Florida to visit my friend PJ. We were invited to an exclusive party at a restaurant PJ had heard about and was dying to sample. PJ’s a chef and he’s always scoping out the competition. And he’d tried for a month to get us reservations at this place but it was always booked.
At first, I thought the invite was because of PJ. I’m banking his new restaurant in Buffalo, and I thought I was going to protect my investment in case the competition was trying to recruit him for their restaurant. Turns out the party was being hosted by the White’s. It quickly became clear they were trying to recruit me for the Arctic Bears.
“I turned them down and I’m glad to say, so did PJ.”
“Were the Whites there?”
Something is off with this questioning, but I play along. “Yes. Wilson tried to impress me, then made me an offer to join the Bears. When I turned him down, his daughter took over the negotiations and tried to make me an offer of a different kind. I turned them both down. They lack the integrity I prefer in my dealings. Both business and personal.
“Why are you asking?”
She opens her phone and hands it to me. There are two pictures of me with Sabrina White. The same ones I was aware of, but these have been doctored to appear more intimate. “That’s not me. I never put my hands on her. I told her to get away from me and when she backed up, I stood and walked out.
“The team is aware of me attending the party and my response to the Whites. Who sent this to you?”
“It came from Trevor’s number.”
My heart twists. “Do you think he realizes how stupid he was and wants you back?”
She shakes her head. “I doubt that. He sees her as his next great conquest. I think she probably sent it from his phonetrying to cause trouble. Maybe to try and one up me since I’m with you— according to how we’re playing this.
“I’ve done some research on her, drama and pitting people against each other seems to be her default technique.”
“Oakley, I….” What am I doing? This isn’t real. I can’t tell her the truth, how I feel. It’s just for show until the drama dies down. Until we make the playoffs. Nothing can come of it. She’s too young and my best friend’s sister. She can’t be interested in me.