Page 17 of The Game She Hates

Is she genuinely not interested in talking to me? I thought she was only putting up this front, but what if she really has no desire for a friendship with me?

I swallow my pride and decide to change tactics. I’m going to bend my rule of never resorting to coercion, just this once.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I just really want someone I can talk to, you know? I’m going through so much, and Coach really talked you up,” I say, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. The only fib there is the idea of needing someone to confide in. Opening up to anyone about my problems is something I usually avoid. But desperate times call for desperate measures if I’m ever gonna get a shot with Pearl.

Her expression softens. “I promise I’m looking for the right person for you to talk to and process everything that’s going on with you.”

“I meant I need to talk to you as a friend,” I say as sincerely as possible.

“Just a friend?” she asks skeptically.

“Yes, of course. Only as a friend.”

“Are you sure?” She squints her eyes, trying to discern my expression beneath the cover of my hood and sunglasses.

“Your suspicious eyes tell me you don’t quite buy it. Why’s that?” I smirk.

She twiddles her fingers, her body swaying slightly from side to side. “I don’t know, guys like you are never looking for friends. You already have enough of that on your team, I’d assume.”

“How about I get you today’s coffee and tell you how I’m not the guy you think I am?” I propose, guiding her back to the counter.

She gives me a once-over again, and I quickly add, “In a very friendly way.”

Finally, she relaxes her shoulders, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I order our drinks, along with Randy’s danish—which turns out to be one of her favorites too. Looks like we’re off to a good start.

14

Pearl Davis

I can’t believe I ended up here.

Sitting with Zane in the back corner of Randy’s café was definitely not my brightest decision, especially after he removed his sunglasses and I realized the predicament I’d landed myself in.

His hood is still pulled over his head and he adjusted his chair to face me, making sure that he’s angled toward the wall to avoid being spotted. And there’s just a tiny table between us.

Everything about this interaction feels wrong.

I really don’t want to be seen with a guy, especially in a corner of a café in a town where gossip spreads faster than wildfire. The last thing I need is rumors flying around about me being on a date and squandering all my chances of finding my soulmate.

No, I’m only here because Zane needs a friend, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself every time I find myself getting lost in his eyes.

So far, he’s been talking about his recent game, which I pretended to know nothing about, and the potential of becoming captain, but he admits he needs to bridge some gaps with his team, especially one guy he’s been butting heads with since he joined the Glaciers.

I’m offering very little advice. I’m mostly just paddling in the ocean of his eyes, making sure not to drown.

He has this intense way of maintaining eye contact that’s only unsettling because it’s him. Meanwhile, I’m caught up analyzing the perfectly symmetrical lines of his jaw, almost too perfect to be natural. There have been plenty of awkward silences, which, in other circumstances, I’d fill with chatter, but I’m going to keep my distance and maintain the illusion that I never say much.

I need to be careful to avoid getting too attached. It’s not my first rodeo with charming guys, and I know how it usually ends—with me being the one hurt.

Then there’s the fact that he actually took my advice and is dressed in neutral colors today. It’s a subtle detail, but our color palettes match so perfectly that I’m imagining how cute we’d look together in a picture.

It’s a weird thought for someone who doesn’t take pictures all that much, but I’ve always had a thing for color coordination and envisioning matching outfits for future family photos.

Uh oh, these musings are definitely not appropriate for a coffee hangout with Zane.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, considering how many people in your practice’s reviews say you’re quite the conversationalist,” he says, taking another slow sip of his coffee.

He read the reviews on my practice? Heat creeps up my cheeks.

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