26. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Steven
“Knightley’s Gambit is in full effect.”
“What?” Pressing a finger to my other ear, I make my way out of the locker room toward the waiting area in an attempt to hear Miles. Today’s team scrimmage got a bit heated, and the taunting followed us off the ice. “Say that again?”
“I said Knightley’s Gambit is in full effect.”
“Knightley’s what?” My forehead pulls.
Miles scoffs, then grumbles, “How do I have two brothers who—oh, forget it! Matching the Matchmaker is in full effect.”
Pulling the phone away, I stare at my screen. What the heck is he talking about?
“How can any of this be fun if you don’t remember what we talked about last night?”
Remember last night? I can barely remember my name.
“Miles, please speak English.” I drag a hand through my damp hair, blowing out a heavy breath. “Practice was intense. I need a shower, and some serious cold treatment.”
“Scarlett? Questionnaire? Matchmaking? Do any of those ring a bell?”
“Bennett! Get in here.” Declan slaps a hand against the frame of one of the locker room entries, waving me in with his other hand. “You’re missing the good stuff.”
Holding up a finger, he nods.
“Was that Declan Graham? Your sworn enemy?”
“Yeah. Well, not anymore. We called a truce.” Wiping at the sweat dripping down my forehead, I pull my jersey over my head. Laughter from the other room dragged my gaze in its direction. “What were you saying again?”
“Well, I didn’t see that one coming. I thought you’d—”
“Miles, please! I can’t—”
“Someone’s cranky.”
My lips flatten at my brother's teasing tone. “I’m exhausted, overheated, and possibly dehydrated. I don’t have the—”
“Fine.” Miles huffs out a sigh, the enthusiasm in his voice curbed. “Our little matchmaker, your future girlfriend, is going to pick herself to match with you.”
My hand tightens on the phone, and I swallow hard. “Can you repeat that?”
“Scarlett. Is. Going.” Miles draws out every syllable, and my jaw tightens. Normally I’d find his teasing funny, but he’s grating on my last nerve.
“Miles,” I growl, squeezing the phone to keep from tossing it across the room.
“The game is afoot, and Scarlett is in.”
“Are you trying to tell me that Scarlett told you I submitted the questionnaire and she called you?”
“Finally!” My brother yells. “Yes!”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” Scrubbing my five o’clock shadow, my heart pounds in my ears. “What did she say?”
I hear groaning from the other end, and I envision my brother pulling at the back of his neck. A tiny tug pulls at the corner of my mouth.
“I did say that. Multiple times. In all different ways. Knightley’s. Gambit. Is. A— ” His words leave his mouth achingly slow, but then it finally clicks.
Scarlett agreed to Miles’ plan!
“She’s going to match herself with me?” I cut him off. “And why do you keep calling it Knightley’s Gambit?”
“Jane Austen’s Emma.” His voice is exasperated, and I roll my eyes knowing I’m about to be lectured for not knowing every detail to some form of classical literature. “Her love interest is Mr. Knightley. Emma and Knightley. ‘Knightley’s Gambit’. Get it?”
“How is it possible that my brother is an athlete and a complete dork?” My cheeks pull up as I hear Miles snort on the other end of the phone. “I’m just teasing. Thank you, Miles.”
“Now just make sure to play your new role convincingly.”
“Pretend to like the girl I’ll be talking to?” I scoop my jersey up from the bench and make my way back to the much quieter locker room. “Not a problem.”
“I want details,” Miles says, just as I hit the end button.
“Details about what?” Cap asks, all eyes turning in my direction.
Dropping my jersey by my locker, I shrug, attempting to act nonchalant. But I’m struggling to keep this silly grin off my face. “Nothing. Just my brother Miles being ridiculous.”
“That grin has ‘girlfriend’'written all over it!” Our right-side defender says as he walks out of the shower room, rubbing his head with a towel.
Heat creeps up the back of my neck as my gaze flicks over to the coach's door, checking to see if Scarlett’s uncle is in the room. “Shhh…”
“Hah! I think you’re right, Colt.” Dec smacks me on the arm, a smirk on his face. “Also makes sense as to why he would take a phone call in another room.”
“We want specifics, Bennett!” The locker room buzzes as all the guys get in on the ribbing.
A sharp whistle blows, immediately silencing everyone as heads whip toward the sound.
“There will be no details about Bennett’s girlfriend.
” Coach James is glaring at me, his mouth tight.
Eyes wide, mouth dry, I dip my chin. He then slowly makes his way around the room, meeting everyone’s gaze one at a time.
“Unless you want to see endless drills in your future. Got it?”
“Yes, Coach.” Twenty male voices shout back.
“Good. Now finish up and get home.”
Low, nervous chuckles fill the room as Coach’s office door closes.
Pulling a long drink from my water bottle, I sit on the bench, removing my equipment.
“Only you would ruin the fun by dating the coach's niece, Bennett.” Declan elbows me, a good-natured smirk on his face.
Someone grunts, and I can feel a few eyes glancing at me. “Sorry,” I mouth, shrugging.
In my opinion, Scarlett’s uncle has been handling all of this really well. I expected practices to be rougher than they usually are, but instead there’s been a silent agreement to just not talk about me and Scarlett.
“Just wait until the next guys' night out,” Cap says quietly from behind me.
My mouth ticks up, and I nod.
Hopefully the next time we meet up I’ll have something honest to tell them.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I raise my hand just as the door swings open. My breath hitches at the woman standing before me.
Scarlett’s hair is down around her shoulders in long waves, her eyes sparkle, and the smile on her face makes my heart stutter.
“You brought me food?” Her gaze drops to the Moretti’s bag I’m holding.
Following her eyes, I glance down just as she grabs the bag from my hand. “I assumed you probably didn’t have a chance to eat yet. Was I wrong?”
Her smile brightens. She throws her arms around me for the quickest squeeze, then heads over and sets the bag on the table. “Nope. I didn’t have time to grab anything before you got here. I love how well you know me.”
Making her way to the kitchen, I watch as she stretches her arm and stands on her tiptoes to reach the upper cabinet shelf for some plates.
My lip pulls up. She’s adorable. Grabbing plates in itself isn’t cute, but the way she does it decidedly is. And seeing my name on the back of her Panthers jersey makes the sight in front of me even better.
A wave of possessiveness rolls through me, hot and unexpected. I want to walk up behind her, slide my arms around her waist, and pull her hair back so I can place my lips against the warm skin of her neck.
Huffing out a breath, I push that thought aside and slip off my jacket, hanging it over the back of one of the table chairs.
Scarlett turns toward me, placing the plates and utensils in my hand before returning to grab two glasses. “I figured it was in my best interest to make sure that you were fed. You know I adore you, but a hangry you scares me a bit.”
Her hand hesitates for the briefest second. Then she grabs the second glass, giggles, and lifts a shoulder as she places the cups on the table. “We all have some flaws.”
Pulling out the chair, I take a seat, watching her. “I never said it was a flaw”
Her hazel eyes fly to mine, brows slightly lifted and her mouth forming a tiny ‘o’ which she promptly snaps shut.
Holding her gaze, I study her as a wide range of emotions run across her sweet face.
“I’m pretty certain my family would call it a flaw.”
Scarlett’s voice is somewhat breathless when she responds, kicking my heart rate up a notch. Stretching my fingers out, I take a deep breath and try to focus on what tonight is supposed to accomplish.
But what I really want to do is run my hands through her wavy hair, and press my lips to hers. As if reading my thoughts, her gaze falls to my mouth.
Swallowing hard, I keep my eyes on her face. “Pfft. That’s because they’re family.”
Her eyes flit back to mine, brows drawn together. But then a crooked smile forms on her face, and my abdomen tightens. “This is true.”
Sliding out a chair, she takes the seat next to me and opens up the bag, placing the two takeout containers on the table. “Which one do you want?”
“The one you don’t.”
I watch as she opens the first container, and then the second before beaming at me. “You got my favorites?”
My lips pull up in response, and I nod. “A well-fed Scarlett is a happy Scarlett. And I need the happiest version tonight when you tell me all the details about my match.”
Her lips turn down slightly. The brightness in her eyes dims. Then she course- corrects, and gives me her brightest fake smile. Nodding, she pushes one of the food boxes toward me. My shoulders tense.
A tightness wraps around my chest, and a wave of guilt hits me. Miles better be right about this.