Page 9 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Player

Short for Hanklin.

“You’re smiling again.”

I glance up from my locker. Three teammates are watching me.

One whistles. “Damn.”

My brow furrows. “I don’t smile.”

“You are right now.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, you were.”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

One of them points at my phone. “She’s texting.”

I instinctively lock the screen.

That only makes them laugh harder. “I knew it!”

“There is a girl!”

“There isn’t.”

Coach walks into the locker room. “I want you all out there in five.”

Saved by the whistle.

Unfortunately, the locker room isn’t my only problem.

“You know what your issue is?” My agent falls into step beside me after practice. “You look angry.”

“I am.”

“Not right now.”

“I am about this conversation.”

He ignores that. “You need to smile more.”

“I smile plenty.”

“You don’t.”

“I do.”

“When?”

I think about it. This morning. At lunch. During recovery.

Every single time my phone buzzed.

“I smile.”

“Not in public.” He hands me a folder. “Charity gala.”