Just a lucky guess. This is your goodnight text.
Goodnight, hunk.
Goodnight, sweetheart.
I like that a lot. So I put my phone down and close my eyes and somehow, I fall asleep.
Forty-Five
It’s Easier to Take Your Money
Forest
Beck flies off for a week-long West Coast road trip. San Jose. L.A. Anaheim.
I set an alarm on my phone to remind me to text or call every single night. I need him to know that he matters. I’m not going to drop the ball again.
Except we only connect about half the time. He’s been sucked into the vortex of a new team and their wild schedule. The tables have turned, and now I’m the guy who can’t stop checking his phone, hoping that Beck has a minute to talk to me.
“Will you be playing your hand, Forest?” Kenji asks with a smirk in his voice. “Actually, we like you distracted. It’s easier to take your money.”
“Shit, sorry.” I tuck my phone in my shirt pocket and pick up my cards. Pair of fours. Not much else to work with.
Denny chuckles. “Still no text from your guy?”
I shake my head.
CJ clears his throat. “Is there any chance he’s sending you some kind of message? Must be a big ego boost to suddenly level up like this.”
It takes me exactly half of a second to shake my head. “Beck doesn’t play games like that.”
“Sorry,” CJ says quickly. “That was a dumb question. It’s just that you look so fidgety.”
“No, it’s…” I pause for a moment as it sinks in how well I really do know Beck. He’s not ghosting me. He’s busy. “The thing is…” I let out a nervous chuckle. “The Cougars’ coach will be fixing the starting lineup for tonight’s game about now. And since Beck is too busy to get back to me…”
Kenji’s eyebrows disappear under his hair. “You think they might put him in the net tonight?”
“You never know,” I say, afraid to jinx Beck. “Middle game of a road trip, and back-to-back with tomorrow’s game. They want their primaries rested for the playoffs.” I take another glance at my phone, because I can’t help myself. But the screen is dark.
“My dudes,” Big Bob says. “We gotta play some poker now, so we can stop to watch the game if Beck is in the net.” He kicks me under the table. “Focus, Forest. I need to take your money by… What time does the game start?”
“Eight, our time.” It’s six now.
Big Bob chuckles. “Let’s wait to order dinner. I think we might have a hockey game to watch. Let’s play, damn it.”
So we do. I get terrible cards and I fold almost every hand. It doesn’t matter. I’d happily give all my luck to Beck, if luck worked that way.
Kenji is dealing out another hand when my phone finally vibrates with a text.
Beck
Can’t talk, but pls tune in to the game tonight.
My stomach lights up with fireworks, and I pump my fist.
“Is it happening?” Kenji demands.
“It’s happening.”
