LL: The check you put on Vartnan was a thing of beauty.
He sent a thumbs-up emoji in response.
If he was an asshole before, he was a gaslighting dickhead now. Still, it was what needed to be done. So the silence from the other end of the phone was both an indictment and a confirmation. He should have known better, though. Fallon didn’t let things go.
LL: Are you okay?
Zach: Fine.
For someone who couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to go to shit. His parents hadn’t shown up for pocket change. They wanted more, and they would figure out a way to get it.
LL: On the plane yet?
Zach: Yep.
He was doing the right thing here with the short answers and refusing to be drawn in. She was his Lady Luck, but self-preservation wasn’t something to be fucked with. Things with Fallon weren’t easy in the regular sense—she was too much of a pain-in-the-ass scrapper for that—but they were at ease together, their snarly personalities fit.
LL: So about the fundraiser…
Zach: I’ll talk to the guys on the flight.
Yeah. That was not gonna happen.
LL: No. You don’t have to come.
He stared at his screen. This was good. It was fucking great. So why was he in danger of crushing his phone in his tight grip?
Zach: You don’t want me there?
LL: That’s not what I said.
Yeah. It was. And, again, he should be doing the happy dance in his chair. He wasn’t.
Zach: The fuck, Fallon?
LL: You don’t owe me any quid pro quo. I’ll show up to the games. I’ll keep my word.
That stopped him, and all he could hear was the rush of his pulse pounding through his ears. She didn’t want any quid pro quo? That was how the world worked—thanks Mom and Dad for that timely reminder. What she was really saying here was that she didn’t want him. He might get paid to move a puck around the ice, but even he could grasp that truth.
Zach: And my word to you isn’t important?
LL: That’s not what I said.
Zach: That’s exactly what you said.
He would have showed the text stream to Stuckey, who would definitely agree, if he hadn’t all but told the defenseman to fuck off.
LL: Don’t be obtuse. All I’m saying is that I don’t want to use you. If you want to come to the fundraiser tomorrow afternoon of your own free will, great. If you don’t. Fine.
That hit a little too close. Why would she… And that’s when it hit him.
Zach: Is this because of the other night? Because you want to do it on the regular?
LL: What, all the hot sex? You think a few orgasms turns me into someone who has to have a man?
For the first time since he left the locker room, the corner of his mouth kicked up. Holy hell, they really were two peas in an uncomfortably tight pod. Exposed soft underbelly? Cover that shit up with a titanium plate.
Zach: Stop doing that.