Page 22 of Full Tilt
She drops her eyes to the floor, and I track her line of vision, more humiliation rippling through me when I notice the smear of ketchup across the bridge of my foot.
“Oh. My. God.” She howls with laughter. “You did, didn’t you?” A hand covers her mouth. “You stepped in my dinner!” Jenna shakes her head, struggling to believe her plan actually worked out. “This couldn’t have gone any better.”
“You owe me an explanation,” I demand again.
With one strong arm, typical of an athlete capable of distributing a soccer ball halfway up a pitch, she pushes me back and gets into my face.
“And you owe me a new pair of Lululemon leggings! They don’t come cheap, and I don’t earn an exorbitant hockey-player salary.”
I smirk and pull my cell from my pocket.
Unlocking the phone, I spin it around to face her. “Go ahead. Order some.”
Initially, she hesitates, but then seems to clear her doubts, snatching the phone from my hand. “One pair of train high-rise in the same color you ruined.” She taps the screen once, and I peer over the top, watching her add them to the cart. She then scrolls to a different color and adds those too. “Another pair for the dinner you wasted, which I then had to replace.”
I chuckle and cross my arms, certain where this shopping trip is headed.
She backs out of that page and finds another—more expensive—collection of leggings. “Another pair to make up for being an asshole.” She clicks the cart and then keeps scrolling. “No, wait. One pair couldn’t possibly make up for your attitude.” She clicks on a pair of dark green cropped leggings that will hug her fine ass perfectly. “I’ve always wanted these, so they’re going in the basket too.”
She adds a black and then a cream version of the same style before she looks up at me, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Finished?” I ask.
“Not even close.” She twists the phone back around, the total coming to just over seven hundred dollars. “My next spree will have to wait because I’m tired and I want you out of my room so I can sleep.”
I hit Purchase on the cart and use Apple Pay.
“You do realize they will be delivered to my place, so you’ll have to come and collect them.”
She shrugs. “Ask your posh doorman to leave the package at reception, and I’ll pick it up when I’m available.”
I raise a brow. “Or you could just give me your address and cell number, and I’ll have the package redirected to your place. Traveling across town to my apartment would be a waste of money for an athlete earning semi-pro wages.”
Her face turns beet red as she grinds out, “I’m a full-time professional.”
I wince. “Ope. My bad. With the YouTube video earlier and then your comment about earning a low salary, I figured you must struggle to get by.” I flip my phone around to her again. “Do you need anything else while I’m here and feeling charitable? Groceries, new cleats … Tampax?”
Letting her temper get the better of her, Jenna smacks the phone from my hand, and it flies across the room, hitting the wall with a crack.
I don’t flinch or even look away from her. “Did you just break my new iPhone?”
She cocks her head to the side, a devilish attitude rolling off her in waves. “Perhaps. A little like you almost broke my brother’s jaw.”
I roll my eyes. “Are we still arguing over that? It was a light tap and warranted. He stuck his nose in where it wasn’t needed.”
“He was defending me, and he’d do it again if he were here right now.” Her voice shakes a fraction—a show of similarvulnerability I saw that night in Lloyd’s when I told her that she was past her best.
“You’re tight with your brother?” I ask. It’s a genuine question without any malice.
“Why do you care?” she snaps.
I shrug, shoving both hands into my pockets. “Because you seem like you miss him and the hit I landed still bothers you over nine months later.”
“Yes, I’m tight with my brother,” she replies, her voice still hard as stone.
“What about your parents?” I ask with no idea why. The question tumbles from me before I can register what I’m saying.
Jenna’s defenses are back up, and she steps away from me, snatching her own phone from the nightstand and unlocking the screen. “I don’t divulge details about my family to assholes. The most I’ll give you is my address and number so you can have the leggings mailed to me directly. Beyond that, I never want to speak to you again.”
