by Melody Anne
A few moments later, Tessa reemerged in a purple gown with some kind of shiny, lacy overlay thing. It was the first dress she’d tried on what seemed like hours ago, and in comparison with all that had followed, Gabe grudgingly admitted it wasn’t so bad after all.
Tessa beamed with joy when Gabe agreed to buy the dress, giving him a sweet hug that made her seem fourteen again. He paid for the dress, throwing in a pair of earrings she’d been eyeing while standing in line. And a big black shawl that he randomly grabbed from a rack on his way to the counter because it looked like it would add the right amount of modesty to the outfit. He ignored Tessa’s sounds of disgust as the store clerk ran it through and added it to the tissue-stuffed box.
When they got into the car and pulled out of the crowded mall parking lot, Gabe realized Tessa was grinning mischievously.
“You just played me, didn’t you? That’s why you tried on all those ridiculous dresses?”
“Obviously. The purple dress doesn’t seem so bad in comparison to the others, huh?”
“That Eric kid taking you to the dance better watch out. I bet he has no idea what he’s getting into with a smart girl like you.”
The lighthearted energy between them seemed to suction right out of the car. Tessa shifted back into her seat and crossed her arms.
“I’m not going with Eric anymore.”
“What happened?” He clenched the steering wheel and began plotting out his revenge on the little shit if he broke Tessa’s heart.
“He was just using me so that I’d join the varsity team. Natalie made him ask me out so that he could convince me to play because the team sucks without me. When I realized he really liked Natalie, I dumped him. He can go to the prom with her for all I care.”
“And you’re still going to the dance?” Gabe asked, heart swelling with pride at his sister’s integrity.
“I’m going with Emma and Megan. I don’t need a boy to take me to the dance.”
Smart and independent, he thought. Just like Lainey.
Gabe gripped the steering wheel tighter, realizing he was about to ask the most awkward question of his life. “Um, Tessa? Can I ask you for relationship advice?”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Seriously?”
He cleared his voice and took a left turn a little too sharply. “After Lainey, you’re the strongest woman I know. So tell me how I can fix things with her.”
“Have you tried apologizing for what Ma said at your party?”
“Yeah, but she won’t talk to me.”
“What about your rabbit’s foot?”
“Stealing my lucky charm doesn’t count as a conversation.” He sounded like a whiny little punk. Lainey had entered his life like a hurricane, leaving his head and heart in tatters on her way out.
Tessa fixed her piercing glare on him. He pretended to be too focused on the road to notice. Eventually she exhaled her frustration. “Do I have to spell everything out?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sure she stole it? Did you check your pocket?”
“Yeah.”
“Your other pocket,” Tessa said, sounding exasperated.
Gabe started to respond, but hesitated. He reached into his left coat pocket. Sure enough, he pulled out the rabbit’s foot. The battered paper clip holding it together had been replaced by a proper key chain emblazoned with the Surge logo. Accompanying it was another note. Gabe read it out loud: “Did you really think I’d steal it?”
“Told ya.”
“How’d you know?” Gabe asked, awestruck by the incomprehensible way women’s minds worked.
“She wouldn’t steal something that I gave you. And she didn’t do it because she hates you. She did it so she could get your attention. It’s a lot easier to prank someone than to admit someone hurt you. I would’ve done the same thing.” As an afterthought, she added, “Except I actually do hate Eric.”
“Then help me, Tessa. Help me win her back,” he pleaded. There was still a faint shred of hope that things could work out.
“If she won’t talk to you, you have to make her. For someone as competitive as Lainey, that prank was her way of communicating with you. You need to show her that you’re taking the Battle of the Sexes competition just as seriously. That’s how you’ll get her attention. Show her that you respect her.”
“By publicly humiliating her and her teammates?”
“If another team in the ASL punked you, would you sit around crying about it? Or would you get revenge?”
His face broke into a huge grin. Could winning Lainey back be as simple as playing to win? Doing what he did best while giving his teammates the leadership they deserved? He might not know how Lainey’s mind worked, but he did know how to be a tough competitor when the stakes were raised. It almost sounded too easy. “Tessa, you’re a genius.”
Her smile was just as wide. “I know.”
LAINEY TWISTED THE SHOWER tap to blast as hot as possible without scalding her skin and tried to ignore her teammates’ post-practice chatter. She never understood why some women felt communal showers were an appropriate place to socialize, especially considering they were all naked. Lainey didn’t have many hang-ups about her body, but the stark white walls and glaring fluorescent lights created an ambience that screamed bleak interrogation room, not cozy day spa. Besides, if she was going to hang out in the buff with someone, she damn well expected an orgasm.
Just like that, the memories of her and Gabe in their most intimate moments inundated her soul like a torrent of acid rain. She leaned under the spray and realized the zesty taste of salt on her lips was from tears, not sweat. Dammit! Lainey Lukas was not a crier.
She needed to shift her focus to happy thoughts. Lainey envisioned the inaugural AWSL championship game in her head, the Falcons versus the LA Angels. With the Falcons winning, of course. The LA Angels were talented, but they couldn’t quite manage to best the Falcons on their own turf in their friendly match last week. The Falcons were destined to be champions—she could feel it in her blood. This time, Lainey would be there to celebrate with her team and experience the sweet glory of victory. She grabbed the bar of soap and lathered away the crusty layer of sweat on her face, letting her mind create the complete picture of victory. The fresh scent of grass and mud on her skin, her breath abrading the raw walls of her lungs, the cheering from the crowd as she holds the trophy. But her fantasy kept getting one major detail wrong. No matter how much she tried to rein in her mind, she couldn’t help but picture Gabe on the sidelines celebrating with her.
Her daydreaming was disrupted by a shrill, desperate cry.
She grabbed her towel and ran to the main changing room, followed by the rest of her teammates. Alyssa stood in the middle of the room, wrapped in white terry cloth, with a shell-shocked expression on her face. Her black hair was still dripping wet, creating puddles on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Jaime asked, trying futilely to look over Lainey’s shoulder.
“Where are my clothes?” Alyssa growled, looking at no one in particular. “Who took them? I have a date with that cute guy from the Thunder tonight. I need those jeans!”
“Did you check your locker?” Lynn suggested with a smirk, clearly getting a kick out of her teammate’s apparent mental breakdown.
“How about I check yours?” Alyssa stomped over to Lynn’s cubby and peeked in. “Not there. And neither are yours.”
Panic ensued as the women all raced to their lockers, only to find their clothes missing. Their practice uniforms had already been taken away to be laundered. Lainey’s underwear, shoes, and purse all remained, and were seemingly untouched. The only actual piece of clothing in their lockers was an extra-large Surge jersey. She pulled it out of her locker to look at the name on the back.
GABE’S#1FAN.
“I guess this is revenge,” Lainey said by way of explanation.
“Two battles left,” Alyssa said, creepily calm. “We have to kick their asses no matter what it
takes. Are you sure tomorrow’s fund-raiser is going to work?”
Lainey swallowed her doubts. “I’m sure.”
“Good. No one messes with my hot date and gets away with it.”
Jaime looked at her jersey with a bored expression and tossed it onto the floor. “I don’t know about you ladies, but I’m not wearing that home. Fuck it. I’ll see you all tomorrow bright and early.” Wearing only a black sports bra, matching boy-cut panties, and a pair of rhinestone encrusted flip-flops, she pushed the heavy change room door open and walked out.
A split second later, she rushed back in, a red flush on her cheeks and the rapid-fire flash of cameras peeking through the door as it swung open and shut. “Never mind,” Jaime mumbled.
“Shit, I forgot I said I’d announce the details of the fund-raiser to the press after today’s practice.” Lainey inhaled and closed her eyes, steeling up her courage. She exhaled and threw on the damn jersey, which at the very least afforded a tiny bit of modesty given that it hung down to her mid-thigh. “I’ll distract the reporters while the rest of you slip out.”
Silently cursing Gabe’s name, Lainey pushed open the door and faced the handful of reporters awaiting her.
“Tomorrow morning, at six a.m.—yes, I said six a.m.—the Falcons will unveil our fund-raising event for the Battle of the Sexes.” She spoke fast and confidently, knowing that once the reporters’ questioning began, she’d never get a word in edgewise. She quickly spouted off the address, and then waited for the onslaught.
“Ms. Lukas, why are you wearing a Surge uniform and no pants? Does this mean the Falcons are already conceding defeat?”
“No, it’s a common tradition for athletes to sleep in their rivals’ jerseys as a way to pay respects before kicking their asses.”
“Nice answer, Captain,” Jaime whispered, having just come through the change room door to stand at Lainey’s side.
“What are you doing here?” Lainey whispered back.
“I’m your cocaptain. I couldn’t just throw you to the wolves,” Jaime answered, wrapping her arm around Lainey’s waist.
“Wish I’d thought of that,” Lainey added, pointing to the inside-out Surge jersey Jaime wore. With her short stature, the jersey hung well past her knees.
“We can’t all be geniuses.”
Mean Jim Green interrupted their banter. “Ms. Lukas, is it true that you and Gabe Havelak are sleeping together?”
Lainey’s stomach dropped. She sputtered, searching for the right answer to put this asshole in his place, but anger kept swallowing her words.
“No,” Jaime interceded. “She’s sleeping with me.”
Without missing a beat, she reached behind Lainey’s neck, tugged her down, and planted a sloppy kiss on her.
“Now, if you want to hear more, you can show up tomorrow. Like Lainey said, the fun starts at six a.m. sharp.”
RAGE WAS SUCH A nice, uncomplicated emotion, Lainey mused as she strolled toward the desolate parking lot of Chester Stadium in fifty-two-degree weather wearing nothing but a Surge uniform. Rage was clean, crisp, and sharpened all of her senses, unlike the tangle of blackness that threatened to drown her from the inside each time she thought about her feelings for Gabe. Unrequited love was a bitch. And so was her car’s transmission, which had blown a few days ago, explaining her rage.
She’d forgotten to ask her teammates for a ride home after practice, and they’d all taken off before Lainey had finished with the mini press conference. After Jaime’s stunt, she’d actually managed to get the reporters to shut up and listen to her announcement. It wasn’t her preferred strategy but she was willing to be open-minded if it got her results.
A gust of wind hit her skin, stinging her bare, pink, goose bump–covered thighs. She contemplated calling Uncle Walt for a ride, but that would mean pulling him away from a job site in crappy weather when his workers needed him most. Besides, she was already taking advantage of his overly generous soul this week. Her aunt was at her book club. That left her with her original option of taking the bus.
She trudged through the parking lot toward the bustle of Pike Street, where she could catch a direct bus home, the sound of her Adidas sandals slapping the concrete filling the chilly air. Out of nowhere, a red Porsche pulled up beside her. With a steadying hand on the roof, Lainey leaned into the open window.
“Are you here to rescue me or to gloat?”
“A bit of both,” Gabe replied, flashing his megawatt grin. Lainey walked to the passenger side of the car and got in. The moment she was close enough to touch him, her nerves were set ablaze, scorching their way through every limb. She was angry as hell with him for breaking her heart, but the torrent of rage building inside was impossible to distinguish from the sexual energy that normally consumed her when she was in his presence.
“To hell with it,” she muttered before pulling him into a deep kiss. One he was more than happy to return. He slid his hand up to her jaw, taking control of the kiss. He slipped his tongue along hers and her heart shuddered. She was falling under his spell once more.
She pushed him away and leaned back in her seat, trying her damnedest not to sound out of breath.
Yep. Way better than kissing her teammate. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’m just going to pretend you’re my chauffeur.” She tried to act natural, but Gabe’s smirk was clearly set in place only to hold back his laughter.
“Chauffeur, love slave, whatever you want, I’m it.”
“You forgot liar and jerk.”
“Potato, potahto. You have to admit that we got you pretty good today.”
“Whatever, I got you better.”
He gave her a dubious look. “Really, Lainey? Are you actually suggesting you came up with that whole ‘change the pressboards’ stunt, and the jerseys by yourself?”
She crossed her arms and pouted. “Fine. Jaime’s the one who executed the plan. She made fast friends with the tech and security guys. I think it’s because she offered to show them her boobs. But it’s the thought that counts.”
“If that’s true, then you’ll forgive me for being an ass. The whole reason I did this was to get you to talk to me so I could apologize.”
“You’re saying sorry by stealing my team’s clothing?”
“A little unorthodox, but Tessa suggested it. Did it work?”
Lainey relaxed into her seat and laughed, realizing she’d been outsmarted by a fourteen-year-old. “It got me into your car, didn’t it?”
“Correction. It got you into my car wearing nothing but a jersey with my number on the back. You’ve got great legs, babe.” The jersey had ridden up when she sat, exposing her bare thighs. He casually placed his hand on her leg, sending shivers rippling through her body. The way he touched her always made her feel cherished, like she was the most adored person in the world.
Lainey tried to relax and enjoy the warm emotions filling her heart as they drove the rest of the way to her place, knowing that as soon as they arrived she’d have to face reality. She and Gabe might have a combustible connection, but they were also rivals. As long as that was the case, there was no foundation of trust in their relationship. She wanted him, but she couldn’t gamble her career on the hope that his intentions were true. Not after he’d given her every reason to doubt him.
And yet, she did not want this car ride to end.
He pulled up to her street and stopped at the curb in front of her apartment. Her hand lingered on the seat belt buckle as she wrestled with her desires. “What do you say we go up to your place and I’ll show you just how much I’m willing to beg for your forgiveness?” He smiled coyly, but his voice was a bit strained, as though he were uncharacteristically nervous.
She wanted to say yes, but her self-preservation instincts were on high alert. “That’s not a good idea. I have to get ready for the fund-raiser tomorrow.”
“I’ll help. Heck, I’ll even cut you a check for however much you want if it means we can make things right between us.”
“You’re asking me to give up on all the hard work I’ve put into this fund-raiser and let you buy your way into my pants?” The metal buckle of her seat belt whipped against the door from the force with which she unfastened it.
“No. I’m trying to help. It’s not like there’s a lot of time to come up with a plan. We’ve been selling those calendars for almost two weeks now. We both know it’s damn near impossible to raise money in one day. Let me help you.”
“You think I don’t have anything planned?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She hopped out of the car and marched toward her apartment without a single look back.
21
The Falcons are leading the score with forty-five points. The Surge are trailing at thirty. Twenty points are still up for grabs with the fund-raising challenge, but with time running out and no sign of any activity, it looks like the Falcons might be in trouble . . .
—Grace Mallery, Channel 7 News
“I’LL BE DAMNED,” JOE muttered, leaning against the driver’s side of his pickup truck next to Gabe, taking in the wide-open lot stretching along a new suburban block just outside of town. “It’s like spying on Santa’s elves.”
“But hotter,” Johnny added.
“That is what organization and teamwork look like,” Gabe said, unable to tear his eyes away from Lainey, who was standing at the base of the construction site directing her teammates with the same wicked authority she used on the field. Three separate frames in the space were ready for roofs. The foundations were already in place, and he noticed what he thought were signs of plumbing and electrical already roughed in. Not only were the Falcons busy hauling lumber and sheeting around, there was also a crew of about ten men wearing coveralls with a “Walt’s Roofing” emblem on the front, and a few more dozen men and women from some of the larger construction and renovation companies in the area. “It’s also what real competition looks like. Gentlemen, I do believe we’re about to get our asses kicked in the fund-raiser challenge.”
