Page 59 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

hit me with it

Zoya

Have I mentioned how much I hate statistics? Well, let me mention it again, because it frustrates me to no end. What will I ever do with this knowledge, please tell me.

My phone rings and I startle at the intrusion. It’s nearly midnight so I know it must be Tyler, post-game.

“Hey there, BFF,” I answer, happy to hear from him. “Did you win?”

“We did. Tight, tough game.”

“Oh, good. But sorry it was a tough game. You sound tired.”

“I’m fuckin’ exhausted,” he barks. Then quickly followed by, “I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice and it wasn’t directed at you.”

“It’s all right. Do you need to talk? How was your time with your family?”

“Ahhh…” I can hear frustration in his every word. “I didn’t see them.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because my fucking mother not only brought drugs to the game, but tried to hawk the tickets and merch I’d set aside for her and the kids. Right in front of the arena. In my hometown.” I don’t know Tyler very well, but the anger I can hear in his voice worries me.

“She tried to sell all the things you had for her and the kids? I’m so sorry.” I know the words don’t do much to help, but I want him to know I care.

He then launches into telling me that his mom was arrested for drug possession. He says Scarlett, his teammate’s wife, tried to help, and now she’s really upset. “I just feel sick, ya know?”

“Yeah. I’m not surprised,” I say sadly.

“And the worst thing, Zoya, is that my little brother and sister had to see that shit. They had to watch her get in an altercation with the cops, then they got loaded up in a cop car and taken to who the hell knows where. It’s so fuckin’ frustrating.

I had this fun night planned for them and then she goes and shits on it. Every time, Zoya. Every fucking time.”

“I am so sorry, Tyler.” My heart just breaks for him.

“I should’ve known she was lying about being better. I should’ve known she’d make this about money, or making money, or whatever. And now I’m really worried about Haley and Logan. They’re little, Zo. They shouldn’t be around this shit.”

“Maybe you could go to the police station and tell them you are their brother. Maybe the kids could come to the hotel with you for at least the night while things get sorted out? Is there someone you can call to help you with it?”

Tyler is quiet for a long time. “You know, I think I will call my lawyer and see what he can arrange. Thanks.”

“No problem. That’s what friends are for.”

“Yeah, okay, buddy,” he says. I can hear humor in his voice like he’s trying hard to shake off the awfulness of his night.

I suppose I already know that friendship isn’t all he wants from me.

And I’m stressing about it because I need to hold him at arm’s length.

I cannot fall for him. It’s not what I want in the long-term.

“What are you doing? Sorry, I shit on you with all my problems tonight,” he says sadly.

“It’s okay. Your problem is much more important than mine.”

“Which is?”

“Statistics. I hate it.”

“Well, Smokeshow, it’s your lucky night. I’m damn good at stats, thank you very much. Read me the problem you’re workin’ on.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. It’ll help me calm down from all this bullshit for a minute. Hit me with it.”

I read the problem, and he talks me through every step. The way he explains it makes so much more sense than what I read in the book. We finish one problem, then do a few more. After an hour, my assignment is done, and I feel ten times lighter.

“I need you every day to help me with this stuff. Oh my God, thank you so much.”

“Does it make more sense now?”

“Yes. My father told me I could get a tutor, and now I see how having someone who knows this can help me, I might just do that.”

He scoffs on the other end of the line. “Why would you pay a tutor when you could just ask me?”

“Well, you are busy playing hockey you know.”

“Never too busy for my BFF. You need help and I’m gonna give it to you. Fun fact—I worked under the table for a sports bookie when I was a kid. I got really good at doing the stats.”

“Well, I guess you should put that power to a good purpose, then.”

“What’s in it for me, Zo?”

“My undying friendship and loyalty.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I realize I’m not feeling them with any sort of conviction anymore because I wish I could tell him it was more.

He blows a raspberry. “Blah. Okay, I mean, I guess if that’s all…”

“It’s all.” For now.

“Anything for you, Smokeshow. Thanks for the talk. And the idea. I gotta go take care of this shit now. Call you tomorrow with an update.”

He seems marginally happier when we hang up and it makes me feel good to know I helped him, even if only a little.

Still, I worry about him and his family and what he has to do now to try and make things better for his young siblings.

God, so very young. His head must be spinning.

And I feel so useless, especially given he is literally on the other side of the country and I can do nothing to help.

I have nothing to offer him, and that brings stress to my heart.

It also makes me wonder just how Tyler Lockhardt got past my defenses and into my heart so quickly.

Because you know that he has.