Page 45 of One Pucking Chance

I throw the poster board toward him. He scans the magazine clippings with a handful of guys looking over his shoulders. “Can we have your autograph?” He grins.

“Shut it.” I roll my eyes and pass the group admiring the poster. “Toss it in the trash when you’re done ogling me.”

At this point, the whole team knows what’s going on. They’re all privy to the deal I made with Anna. I’m thankful I can trust them enough to share because I’ve needed to talk about it over the past month. These guys are my family, and they’d never spill the tea and jeopardize the ruse. I thought talking to Beckett, specifically, would be helpful since he had a fake marriage arrangement with his wife for a few months. Though, I quickly realized that talking to Beckett was the last thing that would make me feel better. Unlike my situation with Anna, Beckett and his wife were screwing like bunnies almost from the beginning. They fell in love hard and fast despite claiming it was all pretend.

Did a little part of me think that would happen with Anna and me, too? Sure, and if I’m being honest, not even a little part. A huge part of me thought I could charm her into more from the beginning. But I was ill-prepared for someone as disciplined as Anna. That woman has her feelings locked up tight in an impenetrable vault. Or maybe she’s really just not into me. At this point, I don’t know which is worse, and the fact is, it doesn’t matter. It is what it is—and it sucks.

“Will there be photographers at The Station?” Finn questions.

“Oh, I’m sure,” I deadpan.

Max nudges Finn’s shoulder with his own. “What is it, Johnny Bravo? Looking for a redo? Too late for that!”

The guys laugh, and Logan, known by the nickname Sean, slams his locker shut, showing Finn's enlarged picture taped to the surface. The laughter ensues.

Finn had the unfortunate mishap of walking behind Anna and me as one of the paparazzi snapped our photo. While our picture looked great, Finn—in the background—did not. He was wearing jeans and a black shirt. The wind was blowing his floppy blond hair up into a tall swish. His face was scrunched, making his mouth and nose appear smaller than usual. His outfit, sunglasses, and windblown hair gave him a cartoonish appearance. He looked like the human version of the cartoon character Johnny Bravo—the resemblance was uncanny. I laugh every time I think about it.

Logan took the liberty of cropping the photo, blowing it up, and getting copies made. The day after the picture showed up in a tabloid, we all came into the locker room with a poster-sized picture of our very own Johnny Bravo taped to our locker. It’s one of the best nickname origin stories we have.

“Can you blame me?” Finn grumbles. “I deserve a redo.”

“It doesn’t matter how many photos of you end up in the tabloids. You’ll now and forever be Johnny Bravo to us,” Cade states. “Hell, I’ve been married for over a year, and I’m still Heartbreaker. When you earn a nickname on this team, it sticks.”

“And honestly, it could be worse.” I scoff. Not that I have room to talk, given I have the tamest nickname on the team.

“So what’s the deal tonight?” Miles asks. “Is it going to be different tonight because Annalise is coming?”

“Oh, definitely.” I pull my jersey off. “Lots more security. An approved guest list.”

Logan raises his eyebrows. “Translation: fewer girls.”

“Pretty much.” I close my locker and grab my shower supplies.

“Boo!” Finn groans.

“I don’t want to hear it. I sent a message to the group thread yesterday and told you all to let me know who you wanted on the list.”

“I didn’t think you were serious,” Logan grumbles.

“I didn’t see anything about a list,” Finn protests.

“Did you read the messages?” I ask.

He throws his hands up. “A lot is going on in that thread. This team is so chatty.”

“I hear that,” Gunner huffs.

The conversation continues, but I ignore it, making my way to the showers. I need to clear my head before I leave here. It takes a certain headspace to deal with my new reality. Hanging out with a woman I’m infatuated with, kissing her for the cameras but keeping a distance in real life, isn’t easy. Yet who am I kidding? If I’m going to have a problem—it’s a good one to have.

“This is the place.” My fingers entwined with Anna’s, I lead her into our favorite bar.

She looks around. “It has a cool vibe. I like how they’ve kept a lot of the old firehouse elements.”

I nod. “Yeah, people love the pole. One of the best parts of this place is Betty.”

“Betty?”

“Yeah, the bartender. She makes the best drinks. She’s like a master mixologist.” I smile. “What would you like?”

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