Page 69 of Play to Win

She was at the fucking partywith my brother.

I’m pissed at him, but now I’m really pissedforhim because ...well, he’s my brother.What the hell am I supposed to do now?Tell him Emma wants to get back together with me?He’d laugh in my face.But am I supposed to just let him stay with her, knowing what she’s like?

Christ.As if our family wasn’t fucked up enough.

Lacey talked to some of my family.Everly seems to like her.And Grandpa ...he seems really taken with her.Or maybe he was just pissed at JP for showing up with Emma.That was actually hilarious.And Mom loves Lacey.

And why not?She’s funny and sweet and genuine.Except for the lying-about-being-married part.

Even Dad gave her a look of respect when she defended me to him, and I ...I wanted to grab her and squeeze the breath out of her for that.

The drive home is faster, the traffic lighter now, and I pull into the garage at the condo and park.I turn to Lacey and gently nudge her shoulder.“Hey, baby.We’re home.”

“Mmm.”Her eyelashes flutter and she lifts her head.“Oh wow.Already?”

“Yeah.”

She sits for a few seconds then reaches for her seatbelt.I jump out and hurry to open her door.

“I guess I was tired,” she says quietly.

“I guess so.Don’t blame you.The tribe is exhausting.”

She gives a half-smile.“That they are.”

In the house she heads straight to her bedroom.“G’night, Théo.”She pauses.“Do you like to be called Theo ...”She pronounces it the English way, then the French way.“Or Théo?”

“Either.”I shrug.“My family always called me Théo, but when I got into major junior hockey everyone assumed it was Theo, and I didn’t bother trying to correct it.”

“I like the French way.How your mom says it.Your mom’s a doll.”

“Yeah, she’s okay.”

“G’night,” she says again, and shuts her bedroom door.

I don’t move from where I’m standing in the living room.Something feels weird.Probably she hates my family.Understandable.

Okay, okay, I don’t hate them all.None of them are bad people.Although I’m still not sure what the real story is about the missing money my dad and uncle have accused Grandpa of stealing from them.I can’t believe he would do something like that, but they’re pissed enough to sue him over it.Nothing says “I love you” like a lawsuit.

Also, did Grandpa really cheat on his wife?I never knew my grandmother; she died before I was born.I’ve only ever known Chelsea, and my parents have always regarded her as “the other woman” who married Grandpa for his money soon after he became a widower.

Fuck.Why did I take this goddamn job?I should have been looking for a job as far away from California as I could get.If only there was an NHL team in Alaska.

* * *

Sunday morning.I could go to the office.God knows there’s enough to do.

When I come downstairs, Lacey’s in the kitchen, making coffee, wearing pajamas—little shorts and a tank top.I stare longingly at her bare legs.Christ, even her feet are sexy, with shiny purple-painted toenails.

“Morning,” she says, facing me.

“Morning.”

Neither of us are morning people and we both love our coffee.I head straight to the Keurig and get myself a cup brewing.

Lacey leans against the counter, holding her mug in both hands.“So, I guess we need to talk.”

“Not until I’ve had my coffee.”I don’t know what the hell she wants to talk about, but she knows I don’t form words until I’ve had at least one cup.

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