Page 83 of Grumpy Darling

“At least let me see it.” I gestured for her to hand me the notebook, and she smirked as she placed it in my hands.

“His middle name is...” My eyes darted up to hers. “How did you know?”

She laughed and snatched her notebook back. “Oh, I have my ways.”

“You can’t publish that.”

“What? It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? I don’t want people finding out my middle name is...” I paused, unable to even say it aloud.

“Beauregard?”

She’d said it far too loudly, and my hand reached out of its own volition and landed against her lips. I could feel her grinning against my palm and the sensation felt like gentle sparks against my skin. I quickly dropped my hand away.

“You’re going to have to edit that out,” I said, brushing my hand against my leg to banish the tingling sensation. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll put something else. No one else knows you can’t whistle, right?”

“Aren’t you supposed to let me answer at least some of the questions?”

“I already know the answers.” She shrugged. “Can you come up with something better?”

She waited patiently, but I didn’t have another answer to give; at least not one I’d willingly admit. I’d just have to put up with Parker whistling at me for the next couple of weeks. “It’s fine. Next question.” I sighed as I waited for her to continue.

“What’s your type?” Her skin went pale, and she gave me a nervous look.

I cleared my throat. “My type?”

She seemed as surprised as I was as she double-checked her notebook. “Sorry about that. These are Bonnie’s questions. Must be a mistake. I’ll just go to the next one.”

“Okay . . .”

“What’s your opinion on a girl making...” Paige paused. “Wait, this can’t be right.” Her eyes frantically scanned the page and she started mumbling to herself as she studied the next few questions. “Soulmates? Perfect date? What the... Oh no.”

“Uh, is there something wrong?” It didn’t seem like there were many questions about hockey in this interview.

Paige’s expression was confused as she flicked to the next page of her notebook and then back again. “I’m going to kill her,” she muttered.

“I take it some of Bonnie’s questions aren’t what you were expecting...”

“Not even close!” She grabbed her phone. “Can you give me a second?”

I motioned for her to go ahead.

Her fingers flew across the screen before she lifted the phone to her ear. A moment later she hissed, “What the hell, Bonnie?”

I couldn’t hear Bonnie’s reply, but I imagined she was cackling.

“No,” Paige snapped. “I’m not asking these questions. They’re more dating profile than player profile.” She paused. “Don’t pull that ‘I’m your editor’ crap on me. I don’t care what the readers of Ransom High want. I don’t work for you.”

She was quiet while Bonnie responded. Paige made a few attempts to interrupt her friend but eventually let out a defeated sigh. “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it. But just so you know, you owe me, big-time.”

She hung up the phone with a huff. “She’s a total dictator! Apparently, these questions are just ‘trying to give the people what they want.’” Paige started rummaging around in her backpack and pulled out a bag of sweets. She grabbed a couple of sour gummy worms and angrily bit off their heads.

“You must be pretty pissed if you’re reaching for the hard stuff...”

Her gaze was piercing as she shoved the rest of the worms in her mouth. I might have laughed if I wasn’t genuinely concerned she might bite my head off too. It was safer to sit back and wait for the sugar to do its job.

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