Page 6 of The Love You Win

Coach pins me with his best take no shit stare before clapping his hands together. “All right, that’s it. You’re all dismissed. I expect everyone in the weight room by ten a.m. tomorrow.”

There’s a chorus of Yes, Coach, and he strides out of the locker room without a look back. I stare at his retreating form, at a loss for words. I’m so focused on Coach disappearing that I jump when Byrne claps a hand on my shoulder.

“Looks like our boy here could use that drink. Meet you all at Chasers in fifteen.”

I grunt my agreement and fume the entire drive. I’m so irritated by the whole thing that I’ve got a perpetual scowl etched into my face, even when a few patrons cheer at my entrance and clap me on the back.

“Lighten up, man,” Wright says when I head back to our table in the corner. “You look like your dog just died. Or maybe like you’ve got a turd prairie-dogging it, and you’re struggling to keep it contained.”

Navarro turns to look at Wright with a raised brow and curled lip. “Classy, Griffin.”

Griffin Wright shrugs. “You’re all thinking it.”

“I can tell you we weren’t,” Byrne says with a laugh. He slides a foamy pint across the table to me. “Drinks are on me tonight.”

The beer is cold, and it goes down smooth, but the flavor’s tainted by the knowledge that, in just a couple of weeks, I’ll have to sit at some fancy restaurant in one of my best game-day suits and try to make a strange woman feel like I enjoy her company. “Thanks, Logan.”

Byrne nods. “So, a date auction, huh? That should be fun.”

Right. Fun. “I’d rather have second-degree sunburn on my balls.”

“Are you going to sign up to go on a date?” Navarro asks Byrne, ignoring me.

“You know there’d be a bidding war for a date with the Logan Byrne.” He puffs out his chest and does that douchey thing where he smooths his fingers over his eyebrows. “I’d hate to overshadow Madds’s big day.”

“Oh, jump off a cliff,” I grumble. Even so, it’s a struggle to smother the smile trying to twitch its way onto my face.

Wright and Byrne start talking about the women at the bar and who they want to bring home, and Navarro leans toward me. “Seriously, man. You okay?”

No.

“I’m fine. It’s just crap.”

Navarro nods, and his expression is so solemn I know he’s not just humoring me. He knows the whole story behind the exposés. He knows how they affected me, my sister, and my mom. I’ve worked hard to get where I am for them, and those women I dated almost blew all of it to hell. I won’t make that mistake again, which is why being forced into this date is such a slap in the face. I don’t have room for relationships in my life outside of the guys on my team and my family. They’re what matters and the reason I strive to be the very best.

“Maybe it’ll be better than you expect,” he says before taking a swig of his IPA. “Who knows, maybe she’ll be smart and pretty, and you’ll fall madly in love.”

I hold his dark gaze for a few beats before we both burst out into raucous laughter.

Right. Maybe she’ll be my soulmate.

And maybe tomorrow I’ll be crowned the King of England.

three

ISLA

This is a terrible idea.

“I’m sick,” I say as I open the door for my two overly-excited besties. I do my best to look absolutely pathetic. A little shoulder hunching, a few coughs straight out of the finest production of Oliver Twist, and my hair looks like a rat’s nest. Though, that’s just because I haven’t combed it yet today. It’s Saturday and summer. I don’t have students or fellow teachers to fool into thinking I have my life together, and I’m embracing the mess.

Be the mess you want to see in the world. Gandhi said that, right?

In they come: a tornado of snacks, makeup cases, and massive smiles. Jess boops me on the nose as she passes me by. “Nice try.”

“I am,” I say, trying to make my voice sound raspy. I’m not a good actress. It doesn’t work. “I’m so sick, Jess. Guess one of you will have to go on this date with Mr. Hockey.”

Nevaeh arches one eyebrow as she grabs my cheeks with one hand, squeezing my lips open like a fish. There’s a thermometer in my mouth before I can even register what she’s doing.

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