Page 22 of Slash & Burn

I downed the rest of my beer. “Nothing is happening.”

Taking another ball from his bucket, Cory breezed through a practice swing still wearing a smirk on his face. “You sure? Cause you seem kind of hot about something that’s such a non-issue.”

“I’m not hot. I just don’t like that everyone keeps looking at me like I’m some sleaze who’s going to take advantage of her.”

Cory laughed, his expression a hell of a lot lighter than I felt. “No one said you were a sleaze. It’s just not hard to imagine you…” He rocked his head back and forth, his eyes on the pine trees that lined the driving range. “Having a good time while home. And being around Jill all summer just sort of makes her the low hanging fruit.”

I ground my teeth. How the hell anyone could call Jill ‘low hanging fruit’ was beyond me. The more Cory put into words what I knew everyone was thinking, the more pissed off I got. Not just because of what it said about me, but because it gave Jill no credit at all. She wasn’t some damsel falling prey to my charm. She was a strong-willed, super smart, extremely capable woman who’d yet to give me the time of day. If anything my ego had taken a beating since being home, not the other way around.

But I knew if I said all that to Cory he’d read into how much attention I’d been paying Jill, even though I knew better. So, instead I waved at the waitress for another round, and stepped up to the tee.

“She’s off limits. Always has been, always will be. I don’t need to have a good time this summer. I need to get back in shape. Reading a few books along the way is the most distracted I plan to get.”

I wasn’t sure if it was my tone or the glare I gave Cory before hitting my ball into the sand trap a hundred yards out, but he only nodded back to me, his lips clamped shut exactly how I wanted.

“Speaking of other women that are off limits,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “How’s married life?”

After thanking the waitress, Cory handed me a fresh beer. “It’s probably better than you’d imagine. People say all the time that it’s no different, that nothing changes once the rings are on. But that’s bullshit. Cause everything got better once Skylar was mine.”

Considering the way Cory had looked at Sky that first Thanksgiving, it wasn’t shocking to see him even more awestruck. There was no way any of us who’d known Cory back when we were kids would have predicted this. He was the most wild and crazy among us, as if the thrill of being a mad man was all that mattered to him. Now, it was pretty damn clear it was his family that ranked the highest. I felt a surge in my chest, a warm tightness at the look on his face. After everything with his mom, no one deserved to feel some peace more than Cory.

“She like it when you call her ‘mine?’” From what I knew of Skylar, she didn’t strike me as the type to like being owned by anyone.

Cory laughed, setting his beer down as he coughed into his hand. “Oh, she’s okay with it.Now. She had to see for herself just how much I was also hers, though. Goes both ways.”

My longest relationship had been a year. I’d been a sophomore at Michigan when I’d met Hannah. She’d been a sweet midwestern girl and her family had practically adopted me on the spot. But as soon as it became clear I had a shot at the pros, we’d broken it off. Or, I guess, I had. I’d needed to focus and she wasn’t ready to sign up for the NHL lifestyle. Since then it had been nothing but flings because I was serious about only one thing: hockey.

Cory was still looking off, his smile easy as he said, “It just takes the right one, you know?”

I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I’d ever know. I’d always assumed I’d settle down eventually. But the time never felt right, I still had work to do and goals to reach. “I’ll take your word for it.”

When he looked back at me Cory’s grin only widened. “You’ll see. One of these days you won’t even mind hitting one shitty shot after another, cause you’ll know you’ve got someone at home who doesn’t love you for your golf game.”

Tugging a different club from my bag, I flipped him off as I went back to the tee. “Keep gloating, Ellis. I’ll kick your ass before the end of the summer.”

“Can’t wait,” he said, his stupid arrogant grin egging me on.

CHAPTER 11

GRADY

Jill’s silence was killing me. I’d tried every joke and silly jab I could think of to bring her out of her shell, but from the minute she’d gotten in my car to head for the photo shoot, she’d been this stiff, frozen version of herself. I knew she hated attention, but this was worse than I’d expected.

It didn’t help that the photographer was a chatty redhead who kept trying to flirt with me. I knew she was just trying to warm us up for the camera, but she was focused entirely too much on me and not enough on the gorgeous brunette next to me who’d yet to crack anything resembling a genuine smile.

But when the doors to the small studio opened and a trio of marketing executives from the Brawlers walked in, Jill suddenly wasn’t the only one feeling anxious.

“Holloway,” the first one said, approaching me with his hand out. The guy’s gray pinstripe suit fit him so well there was no way it hadn’t been custom made and his smile was so bleached it made his fake tan look orange. I shook his hand, the overly soft skin creeping me out before I hastily let it go. “Arnold Thayer, we met last year, but I’m sure you don’t remember me.”

“Of course I do,” I lied, plastering on my best fake smile. My pulse had started to thrum hard in my ears, as if the appearance of team management had me running a marathon. These guys had no say in team dynamics, but they controlled my image as much as I did. This whole summer program was their idea, and making sure I pulled it off was the best way to stay in their good graces.

“This is Majorie Callun and Sam Jones. We thought we’d pop up here to Maine to see how things were going.”

I looked back over my shoulder at Jill. The photographer had her arms full of books and was trying to cajole her into smiling again, but the best Jill was giving her was a freakish curl of her lips. When I turned back to the marketing team they’d seen the same thing I had and were scowling at the obvious issue.

“We’re doing great,” I said, keeping my voice low but lighthearted, hoping to distract them, but feeling my heart starting to race. I knew, logically, that none of this was going to directly affect my spot on the team as much as my being able to play like my old self again, but my stomach still churned at the disappointment on their faces.

“Isthatthe librarian?” Sam asked.

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