Page 58 of Dream Girl Drama

“That’s her...” Corrigan trailed off, scratching a red eyebrow. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah,” Mailer echoed. “It’s complicated. More complicated than baseball, that’s for fucking sure.”

“Bottom line, she’s a hockey girl. She’sourhockey girl.”

“Don’t get carried away, Corrigan,” Sig said.

Chloe poked him in the shoulder. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

He turned and winked at her. “Did you do your hair different this morning? God, you look beautiful.”

Giddy pleasure shot straight down to her toes. “I used a beach waver...”You’re being had.“Hey, you’re just trying to distract me from the fact that you’re ambushing this poor guy.”

“Poor guy, Chloe?” Sig snorted. “That’s a bichon frise.”

“What isthatsupposed to mean?” half shouted Elton. “Whatever. You think baseball is so easy, why don’t we have a little matchup?” Elton stepped toe-to-toe with Corrigan. “Your team versus mine.”

Mailer and Corrigan fist-bumped. “Done, son. Name the place and time.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Chloe burst out, throwing up her hands. “This is exactly like theSandlot, except you’re full-grown men, so it’s not a rite of passage, it’s just toxic behavior.” She shook her head at the man in front of her. “And in front of Pierre, too, Sig. You’re setting a bad example.”

Elton craned his neck to smile at Chloe. “You like theSandlot?”

“You’re finished speaking to her,” Sig growled, sidestepping again to block Elton’s view. “Consider yourself lucky you were allowed to do it once.”

“Allowed?” Chloe sputtered.

“Yeah,” Corrigan piped up. “We didn’t evengetone shot.”

“Okay, I think I’m done here. Pierre!” She put two fingers inher mouth and whistled, but the bulldog only sunk deeper into the grass, forcing Chloe to march over to the grassy patch near the water fountain and hook the leash to Pierre’s collar. “Seriously, Pierre? You barfed this morning when a pigeon landed on the fire escape, but you managed to keep your breakfast down around all this male posturing? That’s called selective barfing.”

She snapped the leash into place and the sound must have rattled something to life inside of the bulldog, because he rolled to his feet and snarfed, apparently as ready to go home as Chloe. She sent the group of men one final, disappointed look, then let herself out of the rear gate so she wouldn’t have to wade through all their egos by leaving through the front.

They’d only made it about a block when she sensed Sig trailing behind her.

“Chloe.”

She made sure he heard her gasp. “Don’t say my name.”

“Ah, come on. It’s my favorite word.” Silence fell as she walked faster, shocked when Pierre matched her speed. “I hate when you’re mad at me.”

“Good.”

“Chloe.”

“No.”

“What are you saying ‘no’ to?”

“Your presumed ownership over me. If I want to give a man my number, I’m allowed to do that. We agreed to see other people—”

“No, we didn’t.”

“—becauseourrelationship is complicated and that’s all it will ever be.” Chloe’s building was only a block away now and she couldn’t wait to get inside, slam the door, and scream at the ceiling. On behalf of her confused heart, battered hormones, and womankind for having to exist in the same universe as hockeyplayers. Who she actuallyreallyloved, but God. What gave them the right to swoop in like that and treat her like a piece of property? “I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Sig!” she shouted over her shoulder.

Pierre yipped and she gave him a grateful look for being the goodest boy/hype man.

“What?You don’t want to talk to me ever again?” Sig shouted back. “I just saved you from a baseball player.”

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