Page 65 of My Lucky Charm

Burke leans forward into the microphone and says, “Uh, maybe we should ask the ladies in the room to answer that question.”

There’s a ripple of laughter in the room, and I catch Eloise’s sly smile as she slips out the side door and into the hallway.

I don’t embarrass easily, but even I know my face is red.

The subject changes—thankfully—and I answer all their questions without wanting to hit them with my stick.

That’s new—me, not wanting to hit them with my stick.

Afterwards, Burke asks if I want to go out with some of the guys.

When I hesitate, he lays it on thick. “You just had a huge win. We should celebrate. Chicago is on their way to loving you.”

“I don’t go out during the season,” I say.

“You gotta eat, right?” he asks. “Just come for dinner.”

I think about the containers Eloise stacked in my refrigerator. She made it possible for me to go home and do exactly what I always do after a game. Shower. Soak. Stretch. Eat. Sleep.

“Come on, man, we won’t stay out late,” he says. “It’s important. I think it’ll go a long way with the other guys if you’re there.”

He’s right. The reason I loved my old team was because those guys were my friends. Just because making friends isn’t easy doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

It goes against everything I want to do, but I relent. “Fine.”

“Yeah?” He grins and slaps me on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Let’s go before I change my mind.” We walk out into the loud hallway along with some of the guys. There’s a noisy group waiting there, wives and girlfriends and some of the other players who came out early.

The men are greeted like heroes and for a flicker of a second, I almost wish I had someone standing out here waiting for me. Wearing my jersey.

That’s never been something I’ve ever wanted. I was always told it would only be a distraction.

But when Poppy moves out of the way and reveals Eloise standing there, leaning against the wall, looking a little—I don’t know, lost—I’m not so sure. Something in me settles at the sight of her.

Something I can’t articulate.

When she sees me, she grins, then makes her way over to me. I can practically feel the electricity humming inside of me as she approaches.

She’s special. It’s only been a couple weeks of regular interaction, and I already know that.

“Uh, good game, I guess.” She adjusts her stocking hat, her blond hair falling around her shoulders. Man, she’s pretty.

“Thanks,” I say, smirking.

She grins. “I think the consensus out here was that you did, in fact, bring sexy back.”

“Oh, you’re funny,” I say dryly, though I actually think she is. She makes me feel lighter, just by standing here. “That was your idea, I take it?”

She shrugs. “I asked the DJ for a favor. Everyone needs a theme song.”

“Yeah? And what’s yours?”

Without hesitation, she says, “‘Girl on Fire’ by Alicia Keys.” And then, another grin.

Her joy is infectious. Maybe I’m just lucky to be around it.

She takes a step toward me. “If you were the kind of guy who smiled, I bet it would’ve made you laugh.”

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