Page 106 of The No Try Zone
Tell her it’s none of her business.
Ansel laughs and leans back over. “That’s not going to work. Just answer the question.”
I glare at him, shaking my head.
He rolls his eyes and types.
Fine, but don’t blame me when you start getting texts from her.
You wouldn’t.
Already did.
I suppress a groan.
We touch down and make our way to the bus waiting to shuttle us to the pitch. We’ll get a practice in this afternoon, then a dinner with the other team before tomorrow’s weekday match in the late afternoon. It’s an unusual schedule, and the entire trip is different from most. Normally, we travel the night before the match and leave right after. But the league got it into their heads that teams should get a full day in the host team’s city, getting in a practice on the pitch before both teams shared a meal that night. It’s not consistent yet, but no one was surprised that the Vegas team was able to pull this off first.
The schedule is the reason I could make the court date happen so quickly. That, and sheer luck. The day I called, the woman said that a couple had just canceled their slot and we could have it. Otherwise, it was going to be another month.
So tomorrow at 11:00, we go before a judge. My stomach is in knots about it. Which is stupid. This is exactly what Sam wants. WhatIwant.
What I keep trying to convince myself I want, anyway.
Practice goes well enough. The team’s not been the same since Ollie walked in on my and Sam’s argument, and I’m positive that his attitude has everything to do with the way the team is working together. Ornotworking together. Other than that disaster of a match against the New England Riot, we’ve scraped by a series of wins. But only barely, and I’m becoming immune to Scott’s near-daily appearances in my office.
The guys rinse off before we pile back into the vans to the hotel. And because my luck is nothing these days if not a petty thing, we’re staying at the Fontainebleau, thanks to some kind of sponsorship that they have with the local team.
The memory of my night with Sam hits me full force as I walk in, and I nearly drop to my knees with the force of it.
“Coach?” Neesha, who it turns out is both HR and away-game logistics manager, appears before me. She hands me my room key before turning to Ryan and Elliott behind me.
Elliott takes his card and glances at his watch. “Remind me of the schedule this evening.”
I squint upwards and think. “We’re in one of the banquet rooms here. Seven o’clock. Details are in the email from Neesha.”
“Works for me,” Ryan says. “That means I’ve got four hours to relax. Maybe lose a hundred bucks or so gambling.”
“Only a hundred?” Elliott jokes.
A flash of blond ponytail bounces by in my periphery, and I know it’s her. She moves with purpose, aiming straight for the elevators.
I go after her before I can think better of it, slipping in behind her.
She meets my gaze in the doors’ reflection as they close, then punches her floor. It’s the same as mine.
There’s no one else in here. We stare at each other, wordless, my heart in my throat, until the doors open. She brushes past me and turns left. I give her five long seconds before following, half-dreading what I think might be happening. When she stops at her room, I slow before coming to a halt at the one beside it.
“You’re joking.”
I drink her in like I’m famished. One of her shoelaces has come undone. I bet it’s killed her to leave it alone while I’m right here. After dragging my gaze up her legs and following the line of the Granite jacket zipper to her eyes, I give a rueful shake of my head. “No.”
On a sigh, she unlocks the door and starts to walk in.
“Sam. Wait.”
Chapter39
Colin
