Page 20 of Hooked On Them

I scooted over to give her more space and grabbed a menu. “The loaded fries here will change your life, Nora. Jerry hand-cuts them himself every morning, and the cheese sauce and bacon are perfection.”

“Is Jerry real, or is he like Ronald McDonald?” Nora flipped open her own menu.

“Jerry’s very real. He’s about eighty-five and still works the grill a few times a week.” I glanced at Dominic, who was stabbing at his phone like he wanted to murder it. “The breakfast skillets with fries are also legendary. Right, Dom?”

“Hmm? Yeah, whatever.” He didn’t look up from his phone, which was odd. He might be a moody prick at times, but usually that didn’t extend to me, at least not in a serious way. His current mood felt darker and more personal than his typical brand of moodiness.

I shot a questioning look at Nora, wondering if she knew what had crawled up his ass and died there, but she was intently studying her menu like it was about to reveal life’s greatest mystery.

What exactly had I walked in on back at the gym? The way they’d been standing, the flush on Nora’s cheeks, the weird energy...

No. Absolutely not. Dominic would never, and Nora was our coach.

Deb, who served us nearly every time we came in, appeared with three waters. “The usual for you boys?”

Dominic grunted his response, and I smiled up at Deb, thankful for the distraction. “Yes, please.”

“Two Cokes and two bacon breakfast skillets with fries… and what will you have, dear?” Deb turned her attention to Nora.

“I’ll take a chocolate milkshake and the loaded fries with extra jalapeños and extra bacon, with a side of ranch, please. I hear the fries are life-changing.”

“Honey, these fries will make you forget every bad decision you’ve ever made, including any recent ones.” Deb winked, taking our menus.

Dominic’s phone clattered against the table, and the tension ratcheted up another notch. The moment Deb walked away, an awkward silence descended over us. I’d sat through post-loss locker room silences that were more comfortable than this.

I cleared my throat, desperate to fill the silence with anything remotely normal. “So... good first exhibition game, right?” I sat up a little straighter, proud of how I’d played, and because I’d been named team captain right before the game.

Nora’s eyebrow arched slightly. “It was... educational to say the least.” Her fingers drummed against the worn tabletop, creating a quiet rhythm that somehow sharpened the edge in the air.

Dominic’s jaw tightened, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. I’d seen that look enough times to know whatever came next wouldn’t help the situation. “If by educational you mean we have a coach who thinks winning isn’t good enough.” The bitterness in his voice could have curdled milk, and I wished I’d suggested literally any other topic of conversation.

“Winning isn’t the point of exhibition games.” She ran a finger along the condensation on her cup, creating little rivers that flowed down onto the table. “Besides the obvious finalizing of the roster and starting lineup, the point is to implement what we’ve been practicing and identify further areas for improvement.”

“Which we did.” Dominic’s voice had a dangerous edge to it, and I fought the urge to kick him under the table.

Nora made a sound of annoyance, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. “Youdidn’t.”

My gaze bounced between them like I was a spectator at Wimbledon, munching on metaphorical popcorn while trying to decode what exactly had shifted in the dynamic between my best friend and our coach.

Deb returned with our drinks, and all three of us quickly distracted ourselves with them. Nora’s fingers wrapped around her milkshake, and I noticed Dominic tracking the movement, his eyes following as she leaned down and wrapped her lips around the straw before he suddenly jerked his attention to the window, like he’d been caught doing something wrong.

I cleared my throat. “How are you liking New York? Besides the questionable characters you’re forced to work with?”

She relaxed slightly, her shoulders dropping a fraction as she stirred her milkshake with her straw. A wistful sigh escaped her lips, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of something vulnerable beneath her usual composed exterior. “It’s been an adjustment. I miss the LA weather and the ocean.”

“There’s an ocean right down the street, and we were literally on a yacht last night. Although you did have quite a bit to drink, so maybe you forgot.” Dominic stared right at her with a look that screamed he was challenging her.

“Hey, don’t be an asshole.” I wadded up a napkin and threw it at him, nailing him right between the eyes. “What’s gotten into you?” This was getting ridiculous, and I was about ready to throw myself across the table and strangle him.

It was one thing to be pissed off about something, but to be so blatantly rude and snarky was completely out of line.

“You should be asking Nora that question. Lots has gotten into her.” The venom in his voice made me flinch.

Nora coughed as she swallowed some of her milkshake wrong. A flush crept up her neck as she slid from the booth, the vinyl squeaking in protest. “Excuse me.” Her voice was distorted by a cough as she grabbed her purse and headed toward the hall that had the bathrooms.

I stared at Dominic in disbelief as he glared at Nora’s back. The moment she was out of earshot, I leaned across the table. “What the hell is your problem tonight?” I kept my voice low but didn’t bother hiding my annoyance. “You’re being a complete dick.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

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