Page 103 of Penalty Shots

"That's you trying to blend in?"

"What? Isn't that how New Yorkers talk?"

I shake my head at him and try to conceal my embarrassment when the waiter suggests something that everyone from out of town tends to order.

I shoot Keelan a look that lets him know he did this to us, and he just shrugs and orders what the waiter suggests.

"Well," he says, taking a sip of his orange juice. "I gotta admit. You do know how to have fun. I honestly didn't think you had it in you."

I kick him under the table. "Of course, I know how to have fun. I just have to keep my business foot forward at work and you happen to almost exclusively see me at work. So…"

"So maybe we should change that," he says casually.

"Change what?"

"Don't just see me at work. Be my girlfriend."

I almost instantly deflate. I've thought about it. I really have. But I've had the conversation with Mack. I am not to fraternize with the players. A relationship with Keelan means the end of my career, clear and simple.

"Maybe one day," I say, pulling out my phone and replying to a text from Toby.

"Like… after we secretly elope in a Vegas wedding?"

I shoot him a glare because that's how Redmond and I got married.

"What? No… like when I feel like I've done everything I can do at my current position, and I'm okay with letting it go."

"Your current position?"

"I can't date you, Keelan. It's in my contract. I can't have a romantic relationship with any of my players."

He is about to take another sip of his drink but stops midway and sets it back down.

"According to who?"

"Didn't you hear me? My contract. This—" I motion between us. "Is a conflict of interest. And if it were to come out that I had a relationship with you… Keelan, I'd be fired."

"What? Mack wouldn't do that to you. She'd fire me before she'd ever fire you."

"Please," I say. "You're Houston's golden boy. The man with the master plan on the ice. She's not going to let go of her star center. It's me. I'm the dispensable one here. Which is total bullshit because we've both worked hard to get to where we are. But I'm not the one with the skills on the ice. I don't have a job without you."

I sit back as the waiter comes by with our food and sets it in front of us. We mumble our thanks but don't move to eat. We just stare at each other.

"So… we're just back at square one. Like we always are. Something is always going to keep us apart. If it's not roommates, it's exes. If it's not exes, it's work. It's just never the right time for us. Ever!"

I look around the small restaurant, grateful that it's dark in here as we have this very public exchange.

"No," I say softly. "It's never the right time for us."

He sighs heavily and reaches for his fork. I reach for the syrup and pour it over the stack of pancakes I ordered.

His fork clatters to his plate.

"This is bullshit, Rina. I knew you before we ever started working together. Would it make any difference if we came to the Heatwave already married? Because that could've been a very real possibility for us."

"It could've been. Once upon a time," I say, holding his gaze.

He shakes his head. "Well, maybe, if you would've told me the truth, itwouldhave been," he says.

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