Page 59 of My Lucky Charm

A guy they call Gump (because he has a Southern, drawn out drawl) looks at me and shakes his head. “What do I have to do to get the team to give me one of those?”

He hops on the bike next to me. “Tell the truth, Hawke. Are you . . .” He takes his fist and slowly punches the air.

“He’d be an idiot not to—” another guy says.

“If you’re not going to, can I take a run at her?” one of the other guys says from across the weight room.

“No way, I call dibs,” Gump says.

“Knock it off.” I stop pedaling and get off the bike.

The whole room responds with whoas and whistles.

“Touchy subject?” Gump asks. “Did she shoot you down?”

“It’s not like that.” I grab my water and shoot it down the back of my throat. “Just . . . don’t talk about her like that. It’s not cool. She’s practically related to Burke.”

He smacks the guy next to him. “I’ll get his blessing then,” Gump says.

I bite the inside of my cheek and storm out of the workout room, ready to hit something or someone.

But I don’t know why.

Why does Eloise stir things up inside of me?

And how am I supposed to stay focused knowing she’s in the stands tomorrow night?

Chapter Fourteen

Eloise

You’ll be fine. I’ll be there.

Poppy is signing this to me over Sunday dinner.

But she’s only half right. She’ll be there, but I won’t be fine.

“You’re obviously sitting with me,” Poppy signs. Sometimes, when it’s just us, we sign without speaking.

It’s hard to believe I’ve only been working for the Comets—with Gray—for two weeks. I spent the rest of Saturday working in one of the cubbies on the administrative floor of the practice arena, which is where I spend most of my time when I’m not running errands.

It would be easier to do my job if Gray was a little more accessible.

As it is, I’ve been keeping my distance because honestly, talking to him is a little like poking a bear. His responses are almost always gruff, and he makes me feel stupid for suggesting anything.

I don’t think he means to . . . but it’s hard not to take it personally.

Beverly sent me the details for Gray’s photoshoot, and then I went through the rest of the week’s schedule. Mostly it’s games and practices and workouts, but there are community and charity events on the horizon.

It’s still part of my job to make sure Gray is pleasant and engaging with the public, and I’m no quitter, but even I know when something seems impossible.

With all his extra workouts and practices, I can see why he didn’t care about setting up his apartment or getting to know his city—life outside of here probably feels like an afterthought.

I’m trying to find ways to change that.

It’ll be my first time attending a game since I started this job, and part of me is nervous, though I’m not sure why. I’ll be working. I have to go. I tried to get Dex to come with me, but between work and his new relationship, I never see him anymore.

I suppose that’s how friendships go—we grow up and they change. We see each other less. I can’t fault him for falling in love.

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