Wildcat: Chapter 11
SCARLETT
Wednesday morning I get to the arena even before my father. I set three alarms and laid out my outfit last night like I’m a preschooler. I also promised myself I’d stop at Starbucks, but I pressed snooze one too many times, and here I am, coffeeless as I flip on the light to Anna’s office.
My dad’s assistant is organization goals. Once I got into her file system yesterday, I was blown away. She even has a checklist of her tasks every morning, which includes making coffee. She did not include the steps to make said coffee because I guess she just assumed any adult could figure out a coffee maker. Any adult but me.
“I’ve got this,” I say to myself as I enter the break room. “Filter, coffee packet, water. Filter, coffee packet, water. Filter, coffee—”
The smell of fresh, hot coffee fills the air. I inhale and my gaze goes to the carafe that is on and full of coffee. A yellow sticky note is stuck to the top. I pull it off and read the messy scrawl, Turn off the burner, turn on the warmer, look to your left.
I follow his instructions, knowing who wrote it even before I see the Starbucks coffee cup with my name on it. Nicely done, Leo Lohan. Nicely done.
I hold onto those pleasant feelings until Dad asks me to take the forms the players filled out yesterday to the equipment manager. I count through them one more time to make sure I have them all, but come up one short. Ah, Leo’s. But when I look at the clipboard, it isn’t there either. Weird. I watched him fill it out. I go through the forms three more times until I’m certain I’m losing my mind.
Anna’s desk is immaculate so there’s nowhere for it to be hiding. I get up and look around the room anyway. Somewhere near insanity, it hits me like a jolt of lightning. He wouldn’t. Though even as I try to convince myself that Leo wouldn’t have taken the paper just to make my life more difficult, I find myself in Dad’s office, asking where I can find the players.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, perfect,” I say. “One of the guys forgot to fill out a few things.”
“Check the therapy room. Just past the locker room.” He smiles, glasses perched on his nose. “And, before you give the forms to Lewis, fill out the travel preferences for yourself too, just in case you need to come to any of the games.”
“Need?” He’s already mentioned that Anna rarely travels with the team.
“Okay fine. In case I want you to. I like having you close. It’s nice seeing you everyday again.”
I have no plans to travel with the team, but I smile and agree to fill out the form anyway.
I stop off in the bathroom to give myself a pep talk and reapply my lipstick. I go with a fiery red and lean against the counter. “He’s just a guy. An insanely hot guy who was the best sex of your life. But that doesn’t matter because he lied and he didn’t call you.”
Laughter snaps me out of my pep talk, and I look up to find Lindsey smiling at me. “Bad combination.”
“No kidding.” I turn away from the mirror and rest a hip against the sink. “You survived picture day.”
“Just barely.” She adjusts her stubby blonde ponytail while looking in the mirror. “Thanks again for your help.”
“Are you kidding? It was the highlight of my week. I was actually hoping we could chat sometime. I’d love to hear about how you got here. I’m thinking of taking some classes or workshops.”
“Absolutely. I heard you were helping out your dad until Anna comes back.”
I nod.
“If you have time, come up to our office one day and I’ll show you around and answer any questions you have. Maybe I can convince you to take a few photos too.”
“I would love that.”
When we both fall quiet, I stand tall. “Well, I guess I better go. I need to confront a boy before I lose my nerve.”
Her lips twist into a grin. “Good luck.”
On my way to the therapy room, I silently go through my pep talk one more time. He’s just another guy. Just another guy. Just another guy. Just another… holy shit. When I spot him getting out of the ice bath, my mouth goes as dry as the Sahara. He doesn’t see me and I have several seconds to take in the glory that is Leo Lohan naked from the waist up, water dripping off him, muscles contracted, black shorts molded to his thighs.
I’m transported to that night in the pool and the hot tub and on the couch. His back yard saw a lot of action. My body heats and desire pools between my thighs. I might not be interested in a repeat, but erasing the memory of him is proving difficult.
I storm forward, ignoring the race of my pulse. When he finally sees me, he pauses, and a slow smile turns up his lips. A smile that tells me he knows exactly why I’m here.
“Scarlett. Good to see you today.”
“Cut the crap, Lohan. What did you do with the form?”
“The form?” His brows pull together, and I’d almost believe he was innocent if it weren’t for the smile that doesn’t falter.
He sits on a nearby bench and wipes a towel over his chest. Several players are back here. A few in the ice baths, others on massage tables. Ash lifts his head from where he lies on his stomach while a pretty brunette massages his back. He smiles when he sees me talking to his friend.
I have an irrational flare of jealousy, wondering if Leo gets massaged by her. I don’t want him, but the idea someone else touches him makes me want to scream. That’s totally normal and rational behavior, right?
“The form you filled out yesterday when you came to my office.”
“I left it in your office.”
“Then how come I can’t find it?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Couldn’t say. How was your coffee this morning?”
I wish I hadn’t drank it now. No, that’s a lie. It was delicious. “I poured it down the drain.”
He grins like he knows I’d never do that.
“The form, Leo. I need your form.”
“What are you doing for lunch?”
“Lunch?” Exasperation makes me snap at him.
“Yeah, that meal in the middle of the day. I have a break then so maybe we could meet up, I’ll buy you lunch and fill out the form you misplaced.”
“Or I could bring you another right now.”
He stands and takes a step into my space. I tilt my head up to keep my glare locked on his. His eyes drop to my red lips.
“Can’t,” he says, then lifts his gaze. “Busy until lunch. Twelve-thirty okay?”
He brushes past me, taking his amazing body and the smell of ice and fire with him. “I’ll swing by your office to pick you up.”
At twelve-thirty, I’m ready to go. I have two forms in my hand when he appears in the doorway. Athletic pants and a T-shirt shouldn’t look so good. The ends of his hair are damp and the smell of his soap is divine.
I slap the blank form down on the desk.
“Bring it with us. I’ll sign it after I eat. I’m starving,” he says and motions for me to come closer.
Rolling my eyes, I hold the other up in the air. “I thought you might say that, so I took the liberty of filling out one on your behalf.”
He takes it from me, laughing as he reads it. “Under food allergies, you put all.”
“Can’t be too careful.” I take it back. “This is what I’m sending if you don’t fill out this form by the end of lunch. You’ll be eating cardboard all season.”
“Fine,” he says. “Let me feed you first. All that wit and charm you’re hitting me with must be exhausting.”
I assume we’re going to the cafeteria upstairs, but he exits out the back of the building and starts toward his car in the parking lot.
“I’m not getting in that thing.” My steps falter.
“That thing?”
“Your car.” My cheeks warm. The last time I was in it, he had one big hand on my thigh the entire drive and the promise of sex hung around us so thick I was drunk on it.
“I promise to return you in one piece.” He opens the passenger door for me.
“Fine.” I get in the car, ignoring how having his scent surrounding me makes my breaths come in quick shallow gulps. “But I need to be back in forty-five minutes.”