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“He’s great. They’re making homemade playdough so I suspect that meansI’llbe making homemade playdough with him this weekend,” she says.
“I would count on that for sure,” Lucas says, chiming in, then turning to me. “So, how’s your team doing so far this season? I have to admit I don’t follow hockey that closely. I’m more of a football fan myself.”
“I love football,” Everly coos. “It’s so much more strategic than hockey, don’t you think, Lucas?”
He blinks, maybe surprised that a publicist for a hockey team would say such a thing. I’m not confounded though. That comment was a dig at me, and I fucking love that because it says I’m under her skin. Good, because she’s burrowed so deep under mine.
“Football has definitely got some great plays to it,” Lucas says, diplomatic.
“But hockey’s more of a thrill,” I say, locking eyes with Everly. “The adrenaline rush. The faster pace. The breakneck speed.”
“Speed isn’t everything,” Everly retorts, those brown eyes saying she is going to lay into me later.
Bring it on, sunshine.
“Truer words,” Sophie says, cutting in and playing the peacemaker. “But I do like both.Equally.”
I ignore my sister. I’ve got a game to win with the woman who drives me wild. I keep my gaze locked entirely on Everly. “I read an article that said the average football play lasts four seconds. But the average amount of continuous play in hockey is forty seconds. Which means…hockey lasts longer,” I say, full of innuendo.
“But on the other hand,” Everly counters, “football players can’t be drafted till they’re three years removed from high school. Which means they’re more…grown upthan hockey players,” she says with a sweet smile as she delivers a beautiful dig.
“In hockey the refs never give you the puck after the other team scores, like they do in football. On the ice, you have to fight for it,” I say, and this guy? He’d never fight for her. I know that for a fact.
“In hockey, you don’t need much skill. All you do is wave a stick,” Everly counters.
I see her bid and I raise the ante one more time. “And finally, the hockey season lasts twenty-six weeks, not including playoffs. Football is eighteen weeks. Ergo, hockey players have more stamina.” Crossing my arms, I rest my case.
“You both make great points,” Sophie says as the server returns with the drinks.
Once we thank her, I take a sip of my beer.
Lucas shoots Everly a serious look, then me, before he blows out a breath. “I have to ask,” he says, pausing to lickhis lips, then to laugh, almost apologetically. “Did you two date?”
I nearly spit-take my beer.
Everly coughs. “No. Never.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” I counter.
“Because I’m getting a vibe,” Lucas adds.
“Funny, Lucas. I get that vibe too,” Sophie says pointedly.
“We definitely did not date,” Everly says, then finishes her tea, takes a breath, and peppers Sophie and Lucas with questions for the next thirty minutes till the date mercifully ends.
I push back first, slap down a hundred to pay the bill for the table, then say goodbye, heading to the street with my sister. Once we’re outside, she pokes my chest. “We are going to talk about what you did.”
“Yes, Mom,” I say, but I don’t make a move to leave yet to drop her off at Kade’s friend’s home. I watch the door, waiting for Everly. They leave a few seconds later, waving goodbye awkwardly, then Lucas walks down the street the other way.
As Sophie waits for me, I trot over to Everly, gesturing to my car down the block. “Want a ride to dinner?”
She breathes fire. “Are you kidding me? I do not want a ride. I’m calling a Lyft.”
“I have my car. Let me drive you.”
“I’d rather walk barefoot,” she seethes as she taps open the app.
“Everly,” I say. “We’re going to the same restaurant.”
