Page 24 of Caught Stealing

“You know anyone who plays for the Arctic?” I wipe down my equipment and drop the dirty towel in the laundry bin while Koa thinks.

“Nah, not really. I used to know a guy back when we all hung out at Delmonico’s but he got traded two years ago. You sure he plays for the Arctic?”

“I assume so, but I guess he might play for another team. I got the feeling he was local, but I could be wrong.”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask my cousin. He follows the Arctic. Maybe he can tell me who had a recent break up, but does it really matter? Knowing who the guy is won’t change how she feels right?”

This brings a deep frown to my lips. I don’t know why I need to see this guy’s face. Maybe it’s to put a face to the annoyance I feel every time I think about someone hurting Lottie—or any woman for that matter—the way he did.

“Doesn’t matter, I guess. I’m curious is all.” I snatch my keys from the bench and nod my goodbye. “Have a good practice. See ya later.”

“Yeah, man. Talk soon.”

We part ways and I think back over our conversation. It’s possible Lottie’s ex plays for the Charleston team, maybe even Jacksonville or a little farther out. That could put a strain on the relationship too, perhaps entice a weak-willed man to cheat. But Koa is probably right. It doesn’t matter, and if Lottie wants me to know who he is, then she’ll tell me.

My ride home is uneventful except for a brief stop at the grocery store to pick up the things my sister requested for my meal prep this week. I have no clue what she’s planning to make, but half of the ingredients aren’t carried at my usual store. I’d stop at another, but there’s a good chance Goblin will decide my living room floor is a perfectly acceptable bathroom if I don’t get home and let him outside.

As usual, Goblin’s nose is pressed to the window when I arrive and pull into the garage. Nancy isn’t home, so I’m free to head inside for some lunch and relaxation—which amounts to catching up on all of the major league games I’ve missed.

And playing with Goblin.

And maybe stalking the Arctic’s players page while worrying that I scared Lottie off with my cryptic message. I’m not ashamed to admit that this has become an obsession, primarily because this guy has made my life difficult. There is every reason to believe that things with Lottie could be so easy if not for this hiccup. Of course, it’s hard to say that for sure after one date, but if the woman she presented to me last night is the real Lottie Clarke, then I want in. I want to claim every free night she has to get to know her better. I want to be the man she thinks about instead of him, and show her that just because I’m an athlete, doesn’t mean I’m an imbecile.

A knock on my door interrupts me on the fourth single player’s page, which is probably a good thing since I actually enjoy watching hockey and scouring the website has made me resent people I don’t even know.

On the other side of the door is my sister holding two grocery bags and wearing a big smile. “You forgot again, didn’t you?”

I try to grin my way out of it, but I definitely forgot she was coming over while doing unnecessary recon. “How could I forget my favorite sister?”

She pushes past me with a groan of indignation. “I’d love to believe that but seeing as I am your only sister and you say that all the time, I don’t. How are you doing?” As she unpacks the groceries ready to dig into meal prep—because she knows me well enough to know I didn't get half of what she requested—she glances up to see if I’m lying.

“It hurts. Not gonna lie, but it’s been worse.” I bite into an apple she left on the counter and lean against the wall. “How have you been?”

Layne blows hair from her face and checks the expiration date on a carton of milk I forgot about. “You know. Same old, I guess. Working, reading historical romance, and pretending there are real men out there in the world who still have manners and chivalry.”

“Hey,” I say, throwing my free hand in the air. “I have that. And I went on a date last night.”

Layne freezes and practically turns her head all the way around like an owl. “Did you say you went on a date?” I nod which prompts her to shove the bags in the fridge and escort me to the sofa. She shoves me down and flops beside me, elbows on her knees, and her head resting on her fisted hands. “Tell me every detail. Don’t leave anything out.”

“Wow.” I can’t help how wide my eyes get while watching her salivate.

“Look, it isn’t every day my big brother has a date. My love life sucks, so I’ll have to live vicariously through yours. Was it great?”

My cheeks warm, which is odd in itself since I’m not easily flustered, but in front of my little sister it’s downright embarrassing.

“Oh, this must be good. Come on, Drew, tell me!” She tucks her dark hair behind her ears and grins like the annoying little sister she’s always been. Still, it might be good to get her perspective on the situation.

“It was pretty great, actually. Owen set me up on the date and that’s how we met. First date was last night, and she’s…” I pause to consider how I should describe Lottie and decide showing her the profile picture is probably the best way. I pull out my phone and open the app. “This is her. She’s sweet and fun and just…she’s…kind of perfect, except for one thing.”

Layne arches an eyebrow and glances at the image. “Okay, she looks like fun, but what’s the one thing? Setting aside the fact that there is probably more than one, but I’m listening.”

“She’s not interested in dating athletes. Her ex cheated on her and he plays hockey, probably for the Arctic since I’m pretty sure he’s local. I didn’t get a chance to tell her that I play baseball, but I think it’ll be a deal breaker for her.”

“What? That’s crazy!” She shrugs. “I mean, I guess on one hand I get it. She’s trying to protect her heart and she associates athletes with being cheating jerks, but that’s not you.”

“Yeah, I already know that, genius, but I can’t force the woman to change her opinion.”

She chews her lower lip and glances between Lottie’s image and me. “When are you going to see her again?”

---