Chapter 11
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
CHANCE
I’m not surprised when an oversized hoodie sleeve is aimed at my face. But since the woman attached to that hoodie is trapped against a car, all I have to do is step back to avoid the smack.
April hops like a little bunny, eager to land her palm on my cheek. Unfortunately, she’s too small and too stuck.
Giving up on a physical slap, she hurls her words instead. “I don’t care how much money you have or how famous you are, I am not that kind of girl. And you can forget about that contract, you creep!”
My laughter booms out of me before I can control myself.
Enraged green eyes blaze with fiery, hellish fumes.
“April, I’m not trying to make a move on you. Not that you’d be able to stop me right now.”
She crosses her arms like an X over her chest. “Don’t even think about it, bub.”
I raise both hands in surrender. “That was a joke. Maybe not a good one but…” I shake my head. “Think about it. Once you take off your jumper, you won’t be attached to the car anymore.”
“Is that why you gave me your hoodie?” The suspicion slowly seeps out of her eyes.
“That and I really wanted to show off my muscles.” I give her a crooked grin.
At the mention of my muscles, April sweeps her gaze down in an approving once-over. Her eyes stop at the band of my pants and she blushes from the tip of her head to all the way down her neck.
“They’re not that big,” she argues, her voice cracking underneath the weight of her lie.
“You’re right. Big isn’t what you said. I think the word you used earlier was ‘giant’.”
She clears her throat aggressively. “Turn around.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Are you going to watch me while I…?” She blushes. “Take my jumper off?”
Now it’s my turn to stutter. “Oh, yeah. Right.”
I face the door.
While the sound of her zipper rips through the quiet garage, I force myself to think about that play from the Lucky Striker’s final game—the one that secured them eighth place—and not about the material sliding down her legs.
Defender 1 makes a pass on the strong side of the ice to the left winger.
April moans behind me.
The zipper makes another loud noise.
Sweat pops out on my forehead.
I take out my fidget spinner and give it a whack.
If the winger doesn’t have an opening, the center has to be ready for the pass.
“Chance, um…” Her feeble voice rings out. “Chance, I… I think my zipper’s stuck.”
“What?” I croak.
“My zipper. It’s stuck. I need your help.”
Heart convulsing in my ribs and eyes on the ceiling, I turn around. “Stuck where?”
“Right where I bent it to tie the sleeves. I think it got caught in the fabric or… I don’t know.”
There’s a thick cotton ball in my throat making it impossible to swallow. Heat fans up and down my skin and I know it is a very bad idea to touch April right now.
“Can’t you try again?”
“I did try,” she huffs.
“Let me call May,” I say.
When it comes to undressing April, a sibling is a much better candidate than a ‘disgraced hockey player’ who’s quickly discovering a roaring attraction for his new fake-girlfriend.
“Well?”
“She’s not answering. Let me try again.”
April’s voice rings with impatience. “Chance, it is sweltering under this hoodie. I need to take it off.”
Is this the same woman who was trying to slap me three seconds ago?
My heart is about to beat right out of my chest. “Let me call the blonde one.”
“You mean, Rebel? If I could call her, I would, but she’s at the spa so she won’t have her phone on.”
“Is there anyone else.”
“No! What are you scared of?” she yells.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman!” I yell back.
“Chance, either take the hoodie or the jumper off, but you need to take something off. Now !”
“Oh, uh. Sorry. Bad time?”
Horror seeps into April’s eyes.
I turn slowly around.
Max is wedged in the doorway. It’s a thirty-two foot door built to let Mack trucks through and yet he makes it look like the door to a child’s playhouse.
“I’ll come back,” he says, his ears the color of April’s face. “But uh, friendly advice? Ya’ll should close the door when you two?—”
“It’s not like that!” April shrieks.
Calmly, I blink. “What are you doing here?”
“I was trying to call, but you weren’t picking up. I figured you might be here with your girlfriend and I wanted to talk to April about fixing the Zamboni too so it…” His nose crinkles. “Why am I explaining? You’re the one doing who knows what with the door wide open.”
“We weren’t doing anything!” April grunts.
I clear my throat. “Give us a minute, Max.”
“Have all the time you need. I’ll go wash my eyes out,” he says, running away.
April groans loudly. “That… that didn’t just happen, did it?”
“I’ll explain everything to Max.”
“The more you explain, the less he’ll believe the truth.”
I crouch down. “Let’s just focus on getting you out of here.”
Rolling up my hoodie so it’s out of the way, I focus on the zipper. She’s right. It is stuck and it takes brute strength to roll it free, but I finally get it done.
The moment the zipper moves, April shoves me. “I can take it from here.”
She’s got more arm strength than expected and I lose my balance, stumbling into some kind of machine with a hook at the end.
“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” April reaches for me.
“Ooof. Yeah.” I rub my back.
“I didn’t mean to shove you that hard.” She reaches out to help me up but, when her jumpsuit starts slipping beneath the hoodie, she grabs it to hold it up instead.
“It’s alright.” I wince. “I’ll go talk to Max and make sure no one else sneaks into your shop while you’re changing.”
She juts her chin down in a sharp nod.
Massaging my back, I limp outside. Max is in his car with the engine running and the AC blowing a cool breeze.
“Turn this up.” I yank the dial all the way to ten.
“Hey, hey! Gas prices aren’t what they used to be, buddy.” Max lowers the dial and stares at me. “Look, I don’t have a problem with you dating, but this can’t be a distraction from the game. You asked to be released if you got called back to the league. I asked you to give me everything you got until then.”
“Nothing’s changed.”
His eyes dart to the garage. “Any girl who has you stuttering like that is going to mess with your head. When did you two meet? And if you say ‘yesterday’, I’m going to riot.”
“I’ll get the tear gas then.”
His jaw drops. “You… you just met yesterday? As in… the mechanic I sent yesterday?”
I nod.
“You’re already dating?”
I do a so-so gesture.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“This isn’t common knowledge but,” I glance both ways and lower my voice, “my agent saw pictures of me and April circulating. The reaction from the public was good. Good enough that it might completely revamp my reputation and get me back into the league.”
Max coughs. “How is that supposed to get you back into the league?”
“Right now, my image is wrecked. I’m in damage control mode and April is finally turning the tide of bad momentum.”
“So what I just saw with you two?—”
“I told you. It was a misunderstanding.”
My phone buzzes.
It’s May calling back.
“Who’s that?”
“My sister-in-law. Gimme thirty minutes and I’ll meet you at the stadium.”
“Sister-in-law?”
“You know what I mean.”
“What else can ‘sister-in-law’ mean?”
“I’m playing a part for the sake of my future.” I hop out of the car. “It’s not that serious.”
Max yells at me through his open window. “I know what I saw between you two, McLanely. And if that was you fake dating, I don’t want to see the real deal.”