Page 47 of Scoring the Player
“You need help?” I ask Cam.
“I’m all done here.” She looks up with a soft smile. “Help yourself. Vegan cheese on those three.” She gestures to the pies.
“Thanks.” I throw my bottle into the recycling bin and grab a plate.
The pie with pepperoni and sausage has three slices left, the one with mushrooms and peppers has five, and the plain cheese has four.
I start to reach for the one with pepperoni when my fingers curl in.
Fix it. Make it even, or his plane will go down on the way home.
Clenching the plate, I grab a slice of pepperoni and raise it to my lips, but my tongue recoils, as if the pizza’s singed flesh.
Dropping the slice back onto my plate, I grab two slices of the mushroom and one cheese, then stare at the four slices.
I rearrange the three remaining in each box so they’re side by side, and my stomach relaxes.
The noise in the room kicks up as more of the Lions pour in.
There’s one voice I hear above all the others, throttling my chest with a category-four hurricane.
“Hey, can I grab a slice?”
I pass Johan my plate. “Here.” I turn, and the hurricane kicks up to a category five. In a merlot-colored linen shirt with the top buttons undone and the short sleeves rolled up, Salem perches on one end of the couch as he talks to Sid and Cillian.
The slight bulge in his black slim-fit pants has my grip tightening on the beer bottle.
How is he still single?
Johan snickers.
“What’s funny?”
He takes a large bite of a slice and walks away.
I look down at my black sweat suit and stifle a groan. All my internet stalking has revealed an undeniable fact—Salem’s tailors never miss.
Cillian nods as he approaches, then he loads his plate with wings, veggies, and dip.
I nod back.
“That hurt?” He gestures to my knuckle tattoo.
I shrug. “The good kinda pain.”
“This thing that’s happening…” He glances over at Salem. “You know the scent of almonds?”
“What?”
“Almonds. You know the scent?”
I tilt my head in a half nod.
“Hurt him”—he steps closer—“and it’ll be the last thing you smell.”
“What does that mean?”
“Fuck around and find out,” he throws over his shoulder as he starts to walk away.
