Page 27 of Huge Pucking Play

Disappointment and relief war in my chest. This is for the best. We can't...It's not...

But God, it's so unfair.

A heavy thud jolts me from my thoughts. Barnesy plops down beside me, grinning.

"Couldn't let you sit alone, Dr. Cyn."

“You know I’m not a doctor, Barnesy,” I say, exasperated.

“Yeah, yeah, but it sounds cool, right? Dr. Cyn,” he says again, obviously very pleased with himself.

I force a smile. "Hilarious. You probably want to sit somewhere else because I’m planning to read most of the flight. I’m behind on my book for next week’s book club." This is a total lie. Not only am I not behind on a book but I’m not even in a book club.

"Come on, it's a long flight. You can’t read the whole time. We can chat."

“Suit yourself.” I pull out my book, hoping he'll decide to sit somewhere else. No such luck.

"So, when are you gonna let me take you out?"

"We've been over this. I don't date players."

He leans closer. "What about ex-players? I hear Coach Hughes is single." He waggles his eyebrows.

I’m horrified to feel my cheeks start to burn. I keep my eyes on the page, not reading a word and just trying to breathe.

I don’t even look at him. “That’s great, Barnesy. But I’m not planning on dating anyone who works for the Blades, and that includes playersandcoaches.”

"So," he continues, "a little bird told me you got a new puppy."

"Oh?" I glance up, surprised. Who is this little bird and why is he talking to Barnesy about me? My guess is it’s Evan—he’s the only player who knows any of my business and that’s because he lives with Sophie.

"Yeah, a Bernedoodle, right? What's its name?"

"Oscar."

"Cute. You should bring him to practice sometime."

As he chatters incessantly about all the dogs he had growing up, I catch movement in my peripheral vision. Garrett, watching us with a furrowed brow.

Our eyes lock. I stop breathing.

He looks...concerned? Annoyed?

I nod at whatever Barnesy just said and then go back to trying to read my book. Why can’t he figure out that I’m not interested and go bug someone else?

I’m afraid this is going to be a really long fucking flight.

About an hour later, the smell of pasta wafts through the cabin. My stomach growls.

"Dinner time!" Barnesy exclaims, eagerly accepting his tray. He had finally shut up but now he’s got something new to yammer on about.

I eye my anemic salad that the flight attendant just delivered, wishing I'd ordered something more substantial. A salad should really be more than just lettuce, watery tomatoes and cucumbers.

"Want some?" Barnesy holds out a forkful of creamy fettuccine.

I shake my head. "No thanks, I'm good."

"Come on girl, it's delicious. Just a taste." He moves the forkful of pasta closer to my mouth.

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