Page 8 of Glitz & Goals

Not that it matters. He looks like he’s strong enough to fight this damn tail and win, which is all I care about.

“Well?” I demand, lifting my chin. “Are you going to stare, or are you going to help me out of this thing?”

Chapter Three

Grady

Getting some sleep helped me sort out my thoughts. As surreal as it was to run into Noah Abbott and have him greet me like a stranger, I’ve come around to it. After all, it would be way more uncomfortable if he’d put two and two together. Would he feel guilty if he realized who I am? Dismissive? Smug? It doesn’t matter because he’s clueless. As long as I don’t make it weird, we’re good.

Besides, it’s not like hetriedtohurt me. I know it was an accident. I’m still mad about what that did for my career, but hockey is a sport. I’m not the first guy to get injured. And Larisse and I were already over by then, even if I didn’t know it yet.

In a way, it’s kind of liberating. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I’ve built up this whole rivalry in my head, and now I can let go of it for good.

Silver linings. I’m all about them. I’ve got great colleagues, great players, and a boss who’s guaranteed to keep things interesting. Today’s going to be a good day.

I get myself set up, then check my phone. I’ve still got a few more forms to sign, and Renee said she’d have them ready for me today. I should have time to handle that before my first time leading practice with the team. I check that I’ve got my stuff and step into the hall.

Only to come face-to-face with a fuckingmermaid.

For a moment, I just stare, because… well, becausethere’s a mermaid in the hall.Was there something funky in that breakfast burrito I picked up on my way in?

But even when I blink a few times, she’s still there, hands braced against the wall, neon blue hair tumbling over her shoulders, breathing hard in a way that makes her impressive cleavage do mesmerizing things.

Then she turns her head, and I feel like someone smacked me in the gut with a lead pipe. She’sgorgeous.Her eyes sweep over me, and my bad knee trembles as all my blood rushes away from my already-addled brain.

To my second brain.

“Well?” she asks, as though we’re in the middle of a conversation and this is a natural segue. “Are you going to stare, or are you going to help me out of this thing?”

“Uh,” I say, because like I said, the red blood cells have left my brain in favor of southern climes. “Yes.”

The mermaid’s lips quirk to one side, revealing a dimple. “Which one? I hope it’s both because you’ve got the staring part down pat.”

“Oh, yeah, I…” I hold up my hands. “What exactly am I helping you with?”

“The zipper.” She tilts her chin over her shoulder, which is bare except for a few layers of colorful shells and what appears to be a sheer shimmering top with scales airbrushed on. “It’s jammed.”

“Right.” As much as this feels like a fever dream, I’m coming to grips with the fact that this scenario, however bizarre, is very real. I shuffle around behind her and eye up the zipper in question. I reach out to touch it, then flinch away, rubbing my hands together to warm them up.

The mermaid sighs. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing.”

“Which is?”

“Rubbing.” I can hear the smirk in her voice.

My neck goes hot. “I’m warming up my hands. They’re cold.”

“So? I’m on a schedule here. If you could hurry up, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’m just…” Buying time. Trying to wrap my head around this. Wondering, if this is what my job demands of me on day two, what in the hell day three is going to look like.

“You’re treating me like a princess,” the mermaid says. “Trust me, it’s not necessary.”

“You sure about that?” I glance up to her hair. “There’s a seashell tiara in your wig.”

“What makes you think it’s a wig?”

I reach out to touch the zipper. “I mean…”

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