Page 59 of Set Play

When Lukas approached me after we lost to Pittsburgh two days ago, it served as a wakeup call. Either quit letting Élise take up so much residence in my mind or solve our “issues” so that we can move past them. Regardless, my performance in that game can’t happen again.

She was the designated medical personnel and watching her openly interact with everyone except me screwed with my head. I played like shit and my brother made sure I knew it.

Even now, I can hear his frustration as he confronted me in the locker room. “¿Qué carajos fue eso? ¡Jugaste como una mierda! ¿Acaso lo estabas intentando, o simplemente decidiste que perder sonaba divertido? ¡Sácate la cabeza del culo! Habla con Élise, averigua qué está pasando y arreglalo. No podemos permitirnos que estés tan distraído, mano.1”

After my initial shock wore off, I realized how right he was. So after she evaded my post-game attempt to talk to her, I’ve spent the last two days planning for the gala tonight.

She’s been avoiding me long enough but this time she doesn’t get a choice. She will talk to me and we will figure out what went wrong and fix it, just like Lukas suggested.

Tonight is the Storm’s annual charity fundraiser gala, one of my favorite events, and I’ve planned every detail. I sent her multiple dresses to choose from and got Lukas to design a custom bouquet of flowers for her.

Gracias por enseñarle a mi mano todo sobre las flores, Mamá.2

Hell, I even coordinated who is sitting at our table to ensure she has people to talk to, but no one that takes all of her attention, meaning no Reya and Gracie tonight. I have nothing against either girl personally, I just need her to talk to me tonight.

Normally, I’d feel guilty as hell about weaponizing this kind of event, especially given my nomination, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right? I grimace at the thought.

Every year, each player anonymously nominates a local charity and the three with the most votes split the gala’s proceeds. This year I chose an outreach group that helps women get out of dangerous home situations.

After the articles suggesting that I hurt Élise spread, I fell down the rabbit hole, learning that almost seventy-five percent of women experience some form of domestic violence and that nearly fifty percent of them go unreported.

It broke my heart, so when it came time to pick a charity, I didn’t hesitate to write ‘North of Midnight Foundation’ on my ballot.

As I look in the mirror and tie my bowtie for what feels like the tenth time, I can’t help but scowl. No matter how I do it, the smoky, metallic gray fabric refuses to tie evenly.

Annoyance ripples through my veins, but I’m out of time, so it’s good enough. It has to be.

Shrugging on my dark emerald green tuxedo jacket, I straighten the cuffs and check my reflection one more time, loving the way the color shifts to almost black depending on the lighting. Paired with perfectly tailored black slacks, a fitted black shirt buttoned cleanly to the collar, and freshly polished patent leather shoes, the green stands out without being too loud.

Grabbing my watch that matches the tie in color, I exit my room just as there’s a knock at my door. Thankfully, it’s the bouquet delivery I have been expecting.

Swinging the door open, I praise the teen, “Just in time! I was just about to head out and couldn’t leave without those.”

The poor kid stares at me in shock. “You’re–”

“Sure am. What’s your name?”

“Kaden.”

“Kaden, here’s the deal. Normally, I love to meet fans, but I’m due at an event soon, and I still have to pick up my girl from across town. I want to be able to actually chat with you though, so here’s what I’m going to do. First, here’s the money for the bouquet and tip.” I hand over an envelope. “Second, I am going to come by the shop on my next day off to properly meet you. I’ll even bring some merch for you as an apology and thank you for tonight. When do you work again?”

“Wait, really? I’m there every day after school and some of the day every Saturday.” At my look of concern over his hours, he laughs and explains, “It’s a family shop, so mom puts us to work when she can. But really, you don’t have to do that, Mr. Reyes. It’s just so cool to meet you! “

“I won’t take no for an answer, Kaden. I want to do it.”

Double checking for my phone and wallet, I grab my keys, shut the door, and place a hand on his shoulder as I move toward the elevator. “Maybe I’ll even throw in tickets to our next home game.”

Miraculously, I don’t hit any traffic, so fifteen minutes after leaving my house, I knock on Élise’s door, bouquet in hand. The door creaks open, but my Chispita isn’t the one motioning for me to enter when it opens; Niamh is.

“She’s almost ready,” she says in a low voice. Then she practically shouts, “Éllie is just taking forever making sure she looks hot as fuck for you!”

An indignant squeak and some creative curses come from one of the upper levels of the townhouse. I think I hear the words “cuntmuffin” and “banshee” in the mix. A snicker escapes through my nose, and when Niamh turns to glare at me, I quickly duck my head into the bouquet to regain my composure.

“Fecking hell,” Niamh mumbles, causing my head to rise and my jaw to drop. Élise is standing at the top of the stairs, looking like a literal goddess in a floor length satin dress. The deep champagne makes her brown hair look even richer, almost chocolatey in color, and her eyes are even more vivid than usual.

Smirking at my response, she gives a slow half-twirl, allowing me to see her from all angles. Half of her hair is pinned up, but the rest falls in loose curls down her back. The dress features what the stylist called a ‘twist cowl neckline’ and a hip-high slit that has me fighting back drool.

As she descends the stairs, her eyes roam down my body, stopping first on my bowtie before finding the flowers. I wait for a snarky comment about the slightly crooked bastard, but instead she graces me with a slow, beautiful smile when she realizes what flowers make up the bouquet.