Page 18 of The Game She Hates

I definitely shouldn’t blurt out the questions swirling in my mind, like why he’s sporting a full tan in the middle of March. That’s information I absolutely don’t need to know.

“Well, talking to people is sort of my specialty, but I’m not exactly wearing my therapist hat today, am I?”

“So, does that mean you’re not much of a talker when you’re not on the clock?”

I bite my lip. I can’t tell him the truth, but I also don’t want to lie to him. He can’t know that my silence is my self-protecting mechanism. I can’t fathom being just friends with someone I clearly find this attractive and I’m weirdly so drawn to. Maybe some people can, but I know for a fact I’m not one of those people.

Before I can respond, I spot Kate and Duke approaching the café as I look through the window, and a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I think they are coming inside Randy’s because that’s where I met Duke.

“You look stressed, like you’re late for something?” Zane observes.

I scramble for an excuse. “I really have to go,” I blurt out, hastily gathering my things.

“Can we do this again? Tomorrow maybe?” Zane suggests.

But I can’t think about tomorrow right now. “I don’t come to Randy’s on Saturdays,” I reply, trying to sound apologetic.

Zane doesn’t miss a beat. “Great, that means I can take you somewhere different. Somewhere low-key?”

“Hmm, can we table that for now? Gotta go,” I mutter, rushing toward the door without even thanking him for the coffee. I feel like a complete dupe, but the thought of facing Kate and Duke without Robyn by my side is enough to send me into a panic. And I definitely don’t want them to see me with a guy like Zane and tell the whole church. I’m not sure he wants that either.

When I reach the door, they are already coming inside, holding hands with bright smiles on their faces. My muscles tense instinctively, but I force a smile.

“Pearl, hi!” Kate squeals.

“Hi,” I reply, summoning every ounce of enthusiasm I can muster.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about the engagement party,” Kate continues, her voice bubbling with excitement. “The girls want to do something after church. I said you’d obviously be there, but what about Robyn? Do you think she’ll be available? Please beg her to come. It’s super last minute, but I couldn’t say no to them throwing us a party.”

Out of genuine curiosity, I ask, “What made you so sure I don’t have plans on Sunday evening?”

Kate bats her eyelashes. “Come on, Pearl. It’s you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Sorry if that came out wrong. But seriously, unless you have a date with Robyn, which I’d kindly ask you to reschedule, it’s not like you do anything else outside work and church, do you? And, uhm, you don’t date either.”

I’m completely floored by her words. Nothing she said is untrue, but it’s the way she says it and the fact that she says it at all that makes this the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had with Kate. And with Duke standing right next to her, I feel even more embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I do have plans,” I blurt out. But even as the words escape my lips, I feel the sorrowful tug of the Holy Spirit within me. Yet, the sinful part of me refuses to stand idly by as another woman snatches a man I once had a crush on and trample over me in the process.

“Come on, Pearl, are you lying to us? What plans could those be?” Kate presses.

Now I’m gulping, feeling as if all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. This is how it always starts, isn’t it? One small lie leads to another until it spirals out of control. Why did I put myself in this situation? Why did I feel the need to defend my stupid honor? Who even cares if I don’t date? It’s not like Kate and Duke are the arbiters of my love life. I haven’t found the right one yet, and that’s more about God’s timing than mine. So who am I even trying to please here? Certainly not myself, because now I’m about to admit I lied, and these two wouldn’t care about my dating life if their lives depended on it.

I’m breaking into a cold sweat and suddenly I feel a presence behind me. Judging by Kate and Duke’s startled expressions and the way their mouths are currently forming perfect Os, I know it’s Zane behind me—I can even detect his distinct fresh smell.

My heart skips a beat as he speaks up. “With me. She has plans with me.” I subtly turn to find him standing very close to me, his towering height making me tilt my head up to meet his gaze. The seriousness in his eyes ties knots in my stomach.

What’s going on?

“Zane Ortiz, the legendary center?” Duke says, extending his hand.

“How?” Kate manages to utter, clearly taken aback.

I want to ask the same question, or maybe just faint. Fainting sounds like a tempting option right now, especially since Zane just risked being seen in public to save me from this embarrassing showdown.

“Can I take a picture with you? I’ve been raving about last night’s game.” Duke practically pushes me aside to ask for a selfie, and suddenly multiple people are lining up to take pictures with Zane. I’m left staring at the chaos, feeling responsible for it all.

---