Page 10 of Relationship Goals

“Hi,” Abigail says, holding out a hand and beaming up at him.

“The one and only Tristan Gold,” he responds, winking.

Winking!

He’s so fucking personable that if I didn’t like him, he would make me sick. But the way he’s looking at her, like he’d like to eat her up, makes me want to punch him in the face. It sure would help his orthodontist earn his keep.

“I’m taking her to dinner tonight,” I find myself growling at him.

Gold’s lips twist to the side, one eyebrow quirking up in surprise. “What?You?”

“Don’t act so fucking surprised.”

“We could all go. Make it a team thing.” He elbows me in the ribs. “It would be good for you to go out with all of us instead of taking out your delightful personality on just me. Spread the love, if you will.”

Abigail laughs as if Gold’s said the funniest thing in the world.

I’d never thought I’d want to be funny until this moment.

“It’s not a team thing.” I force the words out.

“It’s a date,” Abigail says smoothly, her lovely eyes flitting from Gold’s face to mine. “He feels so terrible about how we got off on the wrong foot that he wants to make it up to me.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Yeah. That, or taking her out is the only way I can get myself off this team and back home.

“He’s a good guy.” Gold addresses Abigail, who’s still smiling sunnily at both of us, apparently completely unbothered by how pissed I am. “Unfriendly, mean, and downright rude, but don’t let that stand in your way.”

“Shut up,” I tell him, but Gold just chuckles.

“I mean it. Don’t let any of that distract you. He’s a nice dude under all that.” He flicks a finger, pointing at the space between us. “Ifyou can get under it. Luke’s probably my best friend on the team. If you break his heart, I’ll be obligated to be pissed at you.”

I squint at him, waiting for the punch line he surely is about to deliver. He doesn’t, though, just lets that pronouncement hang between us all.

When nothing else comes, I clear my throat, running a finger around my collar.

“Good to know,” Abigail says, taking all of this unasked-for information in perfect stride.

“Nice to meet you, Abigail,” he says, pulling his blond hair up into a stupid man bun. “Good luck at dinner. Yell for us if you need help.”

I roll my eyes, and Gold strolls down the hall toward management offices like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Locker room is down there.” I jerk my head at the way Gold went. “We got out of practice not too long ago, so you might see some of the guys still hanging around.”

Abigail grins at me, arching one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Do I get a locker room tour?”

I squint at her, unable to tell if she’s joking or not.

“I can tell you what it looks like: a locker room. It smells like sweaty feet and a bunch of wasted potential.”

She laughs at that, even though I didn’t really mean it to be funny.

“We’re not going to the locker room,” I tell her.

No fucking way am I taking her in there so all the guys can stare at her like Gold did. A protective need surges in me, taking me by surprise.

Nah. I’m not subjecting her to that.

“It’s your tour,” she says casually. “I’m just along for the ride.”

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