Page 79 of Scoring Chance

“Yeah I’m good.”

“Because you haven't seemed like your asshole self tonight,” Hank says. He takes a sip of his beer, but keeps his lips closed, as if he’s an actor on set going through the motions.

“Tonight? More like for the past month,” Griffin says.

“If you shitheads are going to stay with me until I finish, the least you can do is get another beer instead of pretending to drink. My tab is still open.” I wave them off to the bar, not needing their commentary. Am I being an asshole enough for them now?

“He has a point.” Griffin doesn’t need to be prodded to drink. He’s at the bar in a flash.

“So bossy. I never thought I’d say this, but I think I like you better sober.” Hank gets up and shuffles to the bar.

A few moments later, they’re back with fresh pints, yet the concern on their faces has remained.

“It’s a loss. It’s not the end of the world,” I tell them. Their mood is tampering the joy of my well-made martini.

“You missed Tanner’s pass. You never miss a pass from Tanner,” Griffin says. “I have one functioning eye, and even I could tell something was off.”

“It happens.”

“Not to you and Tanner,” he pushes.

“What’s going on with you guys?” Griffin asks, staring me down. I can even feel his left eye studying me from behind his patch. “The last few games, you guys have been like…well, it’s like you’ve never been teammates before.”

“We won two of the last three games we played. Relax.” I roll my eyes as I feel them getting closer and closer to hitting a nerve.

“Yeah, but…it’s just not the same.” Griffin looks like he’s going to say something else, but can’t seem to find the words.

“Trouble in your marriage bed?” Hank snorts at his own joke as he gulps his beer.

Instead of laughing, my stomach twists into a tight knot.

“Holy shit. Is there trouble in your marriage bed?” Hank’s eyes widen. He looks to Griffin, wondering if his joke went too far.

“Tanner and I…” I press my martini glass into the cocktail napkin, leaving an imprint. How the fuck am I supposed to fill them in? “We…have been intimate.”

“Whoa.” Hank’s big eyebrows jump. Griffin doesn’t flinch.

“Tanner told me,” Griffin says.

Hank turns to his teammate and lets his eyebrows leap up his forehead again. “He told you? I feel so out of the loop.”

“He did?” I ask. Griffin, to his credit, never gave away that he knew. He’s not the gossipy type, and probably knew better than to publicly give us shit about this. “How did he seem when he told you?”

A knowing smile emerges on his lips. “Electric.”

I feel myself swell with hope, while at the same time, a foreboding pang aches in my chest. It’s a clusterfuck of a reaction that usually happens when I get something I want and don’t know what the hell to do with it.

Hooking up with Tanner has been electric, but it can’t last. This fake marriage feels wobblier than a house on stilts.

“Crap.” Hank leans back in his chair, almost pissed off, if he was ever the type of guy to get that angry.

“What?” I ask.

“We all suspected you two were hooking up. I should’ve made us put money on it. I could’ve bought myself a new power drill.”

“We were that obvious?”

“Yes,” Hank and Griffin say at the same time.