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“That’s quite a mouthful,” I joke, and then we fall silent for a bit as I navigate out of the parking lot. The silence is surprisingly comfortable. I’m aware of her humming next to me in the car, her hands in her lap as she looks out the window.

"So," she says at last. "You made a pretty big assumption back there.”

I let out a breath. “We should talk about that, yeah.”

She turns to look at me. “You told Spinner we are dating. Seriously. Declaring our relationship to HR. And he seemed delighted.”

I nod. “And your teammates immediately bombarded you with delighted texts when they found out.”

“How do you know they were delighted? Maybe they were disgusted with me.” She grins.

“Fair.” I realize we’re already two lights away from our destination. I can’t believe I’ve been driving half an hour for tuna when it’s been right here across the highway. “I, um, haven’t dated anyone in a long time.” I catch her out of the corner of my eye, her lips rolled in, watching me expectantly. “I’m not really into casual, and I don’t have the bandwidth for something real right now, and the guys …” I pause and sigh. “They mean well.”

I park near a cart return and glance at BB. The corner of her mouth lifts. “The girls are relentless about me hooking up. They’re trying to drag me to nightclubs.”

“Do you go?"

"I went to therapy instead."

I almost smile. "How'd that work out?"

“Well, the team’s psych also thinks I should ‘get back out there.’”

I groan in empathy. “He’d probably tell me the same thing. If I got to meet with him.”

Briar chuckles. “It’s weird, though. Lying to people. Right?” We both unbuckle, and I frown when I don’t make it around the car in time to open her door, a reaction I wasn’t expecting. I guess I don’t have women in my car often enough to hone my chivalry. BB touches my arm as she passes me to shimmy between the parked cars.

I like that she’s big like me. I mean, obviously she’s not as big as me. I’m an ogre. But she’s gotta be almost six feet tall and rock solid. She’s still talking, and I want to hear what she has to say. “I haven’t dated anyone since my ex. And I’m not interested in casual.” Understanding dawns in her eyes. “Hockey is the only thing going right for me, and I need to keep my focus on the game. You know?”

My body unclenches. “God, yes. I know exactly what you’re talking about.” I pause as she enters the store ahead of me, and I curse myself for staring at her butt. She is so obviously muscular. Her ass is a pair of perfect melons. I love the way her polo shirt stretches across her shoulders. I wonder how firm her body feels. Stop that, Cameron, you pervert.

"So we both need to deke our team.” I try to recover as I grab a cart.

"For the foreseeable future, yes." I like that she’s thought this through. "They'll stop sending the articles. They'll stop with the—" She waves a hand. "Whatever. Yes. This could work."

I scan my membership card, and we enter the store. “What are the rules, BB? I’d love to skip parties…”

She snorts. It's involuntary, I think. Then she imitates my low voice. “Sorry, I can't go to the champagne room," she says, "BB is washing her hair."

"Exactly."

"Sorry, I can't make ax throwing," she returns in her normal voice. "Mayhem is waxing his legs." Her eyes sparkle with delight.

I look back, completely straight-faced. “That would require a whole lot of wax, Beckett.”

“Good thing we’re in a bulk warehouse, then, Miller.” The twinkle in her eyes as she smiles almost knocks me flat.

BB starts tossing electrolyte packets into the cart. I have a sponsorship for them, and they show up free at my house, but instead of telling her that, I blurt, “Ax throwing's actually not bad.”

"It's a good group activity," she agrees.

"If your friends were throwing axes, I'd probably go."

"Same." She points down the aisle toward the batteries. “So that could be one of the dates we say yes to.”

I run through a mental map of my house, thinking about everything I need. I have a checklist on an app in my phone, but I don’t want to look away from BB to pull it out.

I don’t want to think about Spinner’s commentary on all the women at bars or the sound of my mother’s voice asking for grandbabies. It’s nice to focus on the present: shopping and talking to Briar. I reach for a pack of 9-volt batteries, remembering that it’s almost time for the clock change, which means reminding my parents to replace the batteries in the smoke detectors.