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“That can’t be true. I’ve seen the way they fawn over you in the family area after the games.”
“My mom and abuela are grateful I survived, but if we lose, my dad has a long list of the plays I could have been better on. Because you know, if I had, we wouldn’t have lost. Your family showers Five with praise after each game. Win or lose. Your family is special, Maggie, and they don’t see you as mediocre. Nobody does. Ask them for the loan. Or ask me. You, Maggie Buchanan, are an excellent investment. Trust me.”
Aww, George said by her feet, looking like he might return his dinner.
You don’t think I’m an excellent investment? Maggie asked George.
I think he’s trying too hard, and you need to take him out of his misery. Just kiss him and get it over with. George sashayed to his cat tree, jumped to the first level, and turned his back to them.
Chapter 18
“Thank you. I’ll remember that,” Maggie stammered. “Feel like watching a movie, or we could start a series?” She stood and stacked their dishes, hoping he’d chose a series. One they could watch together. Like a couple. Talk about cart before the horse. One step at a time, she reminded herself as Lucas placed his silverware on the plates. She grabbed his wrist and pulled his bruised and swollen fingers toward her. “What the hell happened?” she demanded, embarrassed that she missed seeing it earlier. They were purple, almost doubled in size, and had tiny cuts on them.
He shrugged, retracting his arm and tucking his hand back into the safety of his sleeve, like a turtle retreating into its shell. “Oregon jumped a call and stomped on my hand. I should have iced it after practice, but…” He didn’t finish, and Maggie got the sense he didn’t ice it because he didn’t want to spend the time. He wanted to be with her.
“Why don’t you go sit on the couch? I’ll clean up the kitchen. It won’t take me long, and then I’ll bring something to make your hand feel better.”
Lucas stood. “You sure? It’s really not as bad as it looks.”
“Can you make a fist?” she asked, daring him. He hung his head in defeat.
“I think I’ll go sit on the couch. Make friends with George.”
Doubt it. George looked at them and curled into a tight ball, his feline version of the cold shoulder. She didn’t appreciate George’s bad attitude, but she couldn’t change it. Her skills weren’t that powerful, and even if they were, she wouldn’t abuse them like that. She couldn’t change a person’s, or cat’s, true energy. She could only clear the path of the false energy or pretense, if she wanted to, which she usually didn’t.
“Sounds good,” she said, not correcting him. “Go settle in and we can Netflix and chill.”
Lucas dropped to the couch, with the devil sitting on one shoulder and an angel on the other, arguing over his next step.
Netflix and chill, man. You know what that means, the devil said with some rude pelvic thrusts. Go time. He waggled his heavy brows.
He does not know that. Maggie needs to make the first move. There’s too much at stake here, the angel reminded the devil.
She said Netflix and chill, the devil repeated. You don’t need to be a code breaker to understand that.
Which part of too much to lose, don’t you understand? Hell’s heat has melted your ears.
That’s not a very angelic thing to say.
The angel narrowed his eyes and straightened his halo. I apologize, but we don’t seem to be on the same team here, and you’re leading Lucas astray.
The devil snorted. That’s my job.
The angel turned his focus to Lucas, as if giving up on arguing with the devil. Be patient a bit longer. If you’re misreading this, then you risk losing not only Maggie’s friendship but her family’s.
Not to mention Cal’s fist meeting your face. The devil chuckled, as if nothing would make him happier. Lucas turned on the television and scrolled to Netflix, hoping to stop the debate.
“Hey, I made tiramisu for dessert. Do you want it now or later?” Maggie asked, sticking her head out of the kitchen.
“Hmm”—Lucas patted his chin with his index finger and screwed up his face as if contemplating—“tiramisu or you? You, now. Dessert later.”
Unless she is dessert, the devil snickered.
Maggie smiled, tossing the towel on the counter. “Be there in a sec.”
“Go away, both of you,” he muttered, looking from one shoulder to the next.
Be good, the angel reminded him before disappearing in a cloud of glitter.
