Page 5 of In The Game

“It’s notwell-done, it’swhat-have-you-done?”

“Team Brown Cheese,” Raleigh adds, reaching for a slice. We’re both lying, but it’s sweet she’s going for it so the kitchen staff don’t get chewed out. Sweet girl.

“Your funeral,” Banksy responds, passing the pizza down to our end.

I put my arm around Raleigh to take it from him and place it in front of us. Satan himself cooked this fucking pie. I hold up my black slice, and she taps her equally burned one to it.

“Cheers!”

We take a bite, and I can hardly hear myself think while I get lockjaw trying to bite through this crust. It’s more sound than taste. The rest of the table looks on with wrinkled noses.

“Crunchy.” She nods. Neither of us can fake it anymore and snicker at how bad it is.

“Send it back, Conway. Don’t make her eat that,” Sully comments.

“No! This is the best pizza I’ve ever had,” she yells over a huge bite. “Quit trying to steal our food.”

“Yeah, man. This is incredible. You’re missing out.”

“Five hundred dollars says you won’t finish it.” Banks raises an eyebrow.

I lean down to Raleigh’s ear. “Wanna make five hundred bucks?”

“Fuck yeah, give me another slice, I’ll double up,” she whispers back.

I like this girl, she’s more fun than I thought she would be, and I haven’t even gotten her in my bed yet.

The pizza is…not good. But by the end of our meal, we’re five hundred richer.

“I need a beer to wash this down,” she says, reaching across the table for the pitcher.

“Here, I’ll grab it.” While reaching over her, I knock over O’Callahan’s glass, and it spills all over Raleigh’s dress. She gasps.Fucking hell.Well, there goes my chance.

“Shit!”

“Cold! Cold, cold!” She takes a big inhale and chuckles and wipes the fabric with a wad of napkins while I try to contain the spill on the tabletop. Beer is dripping at our feet.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“No worries. Really.” I’m such an ass. “Honestly, you’re doing me a favor. It’s uncomfortable, and I needed an excuse to throw it out. It’s way too small.”

“Then I’ll replace it with something you like better. Personally, I don’t mind it, but if you’re uncomfortable… I know a place we could go?” I didn’t plan on taking her back so soon, but I’m not going to make her sit in a sopping wet dress all night smelling like pilsner. She’s likely leaving either way, might as well shoot my shot.

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah, I’m a regular there.” I smile. “Really cozy. Lots of places to lie down.”

“So, what are you waiting for?”

Holy shit, is this actually working?I fed her burned pizza and spilled beer on her dress, yet she’s still willing to go home with me? Being an athlete has its advantages.

We head outside and grab an Uber right before my phone dies. I tell the driver the address to my place, it’s about thirty minutes away. We talk about my job and how the team is doing. She knowsa lotabout hockey and even congratulated me on my promotion to alternate captain. It was just announced, so she must keep an eye on the team news or ESPN. I like a woman that pays attention. The car jerks, and she braces herself on the seat in front of her. Then the engine makes a weird noise.

“Fuck, not now,” the driver mutters.

“Problem, bud?”

“I forgot to get gas.”

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