Page 55 of Shockproof

Having my own words thrown in my direction initially irks me but the sounds of her snickers and the sweet kiss she plants on my lips afterward send the irritation elsewhere.

What can I say?

When it comes to the love of my life, I’m practically the phrase “Yes, Dear” with legs and a gun and an affinity for cake.

The two of us take a beat to properly steady our breathing before completely collecting our composure and adjusting our clothes.

Thankfully, getting from the penthouse to where the games are held doesn’t take too long, even with all the gameday traffic. Having a premium parking pass allows uscloserspots but still notthatclose. Once I’ve found the best available space – clear shot to the exit, under a streetlamp for tactical sight advantage, and within direct line of sight to where one of the security guards is to be stationed – I kill the engine, walk around my truck, and assist my texting girlfriend out.

As much as I wanna knowwhoshe’s texting, I’m trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.

That it probably isn’t Seventeen.

That it’s probably T giving her shit about needing the grand he owes me for the wedding.

Or her parents who we promised during Thanksgiving dinner we would go see in Hawaii once this issue is settled.

Hell, it could even be one of her nephews in search of homework help because Monte refuses to get them a tutor when his sister is – academically speaking – a certified genius.

And if it is Seventeen then I trust that it’s just business.

An unexpected giggle escaping her has me tugging at my hoodie collar as I hit the lock button.

Alright.

I’mtrying to trustthat it’s just business.

She told me about the conversation they had in her office and was adamant that he got the message.

Knowing what I know about him?

I can’t say I’m so easily sold.

“Excited?” I warmly ask and tuck my keys into the pocket so that I can wrap an arm protectively around her shoulder.

“Fuck yeah,” she enthusiastically replies, putting her phone away. “And I will be even more excited when we win.”

“You meanifwe win.”

“No, I meanwhen.” Arley nestles in closer to me during our approaching the entrance. “The team analysis I did is in our favor.”

“You know as well as I do, players – like agents – don’t always fit the formula.”

“And you know as well as I do that patterns of performance – for both agents and players – can and often do create easier to predict outcomes.” Her gaze swings up to mine. “Statistical analysis and data evaluation are part of the process for owners and managers when deciding who to keep, who to trade, who to bump down, who to bump up, who to have two-way contracts with and so on. Using thatsameinformation along with this season’s known line pairings, I can pretty much conclude which team has the winning numbers.”

“On paper, Angel Cake.” It’s impossible not to grin. “Never forget the most important behavioral trait of humanity as a whole is its unpredictability.”

She scrunches her nose in a silent concession.

Love the woman.

Love even more when I get to teachhersomething useful.

Opening the door to the building immediately sends a sensory overload straight into our faces. While the crowd outside is somewhat strong, the lights, the security screeches, the crying kids, and yelling vendors shift everything to an astounding level.

Arley does her best to put on a brave face and joins a line to walk through.

Shewantedto come.

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