* * *
“Let me get this straight. You can put how many marshmallows in your mouth at once?”
Michael Lambert grinned and leaned against the concrete wall outside the locker room. “Twenty-two.”
“There’s no way.” Aileen shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it, baby.” He turned to Stephen, who walked out the door behind them. “Am I lying, or what?”
“Twenty-two.” Stephen stopped and graced Aileen with a wide smile. “Must be talking about marshmallows. It’s true, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
She started to ask another completely stupid question when the real object of her thoughts walked out of the locker room. He caught sight of her from the corner of his eye, halted, and glared at her.
She ignored him. “Can you say ‘Fluffy bunny’ with all those in there?”
Michael snorted and shook his head. “Never tried.”
“That’s the whole point!”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She skimmed her gaze to Killian for a moment, then back to Michael and Stephen. “Just talking to my new friends, Michael and Stephen. Maybe you three have met before?”
“Yup.” Michael grinned at Killian—more like grinned down at Killian—and waved a finger between himself and Aileen. “New friends.”
He scowled and slowly walked away. Aileen bit down on the grin threatening to spread across her face.
Leaning in a little, she asked in a lower voice, “Okay, Michael, but really. Here’s the important question. I’ve just got to know . . .”
He bent over her to hear better. Michael was so close, she could smell the soap from his after-practice shower. From the corner of her eye, she saw Killian completely stop, back turned, waiting to hear what she would ask.
“Twenty-two marshmallows? That’s a lie, right?”
Michael chuckled. “No lie.”
“I’m gonna make you prove it.”
Killian’s disgusted snort as he walked away was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She couldn’t hold back the laughter.
Michael’s eyebrow winged up. “Something funny about marshmallows?”
She tilted her head to the side. “Sorry. I have a confession. I was mostly using you—both of you—to get under Killian Reeves’ skin.”
Stephen blinked in disbelief. “Reeves? As in, silent as a monk Reeves?”
“One in the same.” She stretched her neck. “It was a good opening shot. Sorry I used you.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Honey, the day I’m sorry for a woman using me for a few minutes of conversation is the day I’m six feet under. No problem here.”
Michael nodded.
“Well. Maybe you wouldn’t mind doing your marshmallow trick for me on camera? I could do some segment like . . .” She flexed her fingers and thought for a moment. “Hidden talents. Stephen, any tricks? Or maybe someone on the team knows how to juggle, or can speak backward or something.”
“Nobody wants to see me crush beer cans,” Stephen said easily.
“Josiah Walker knows some bike tricks,” Michael offered.
“Perfect!” She held out a hand, hoping for a truce, and felt shocked when Michael pulled her to the side in a half hug. The large, beefy arm wrapped around her shoulders might have felt intimidating to some, but to her, it was a comfort. “Thanks for not being offended.”
“Please. If someone can get into that thick skull of his, it’ll be totally worth it.”
Stephen grinned in total agreement.
* * *
The next time Aileen saw Killian, he was walking into the weight room. She focused all her efforts on watching Josiah Walker explain the bike he rode to practice daily, and why, and then he explained a few of the tricks he could do. Nothing intense, he promised, as he rather happened to like his job and would hate to be sidelined for a season with a broken elbow from a trick gone wrong. But a life without risk . . .
Killian walked past, halted, then turned around and approached. She could practically feel him glowering.
“What are you doing?”
She looked up at him innocently, as if she’d just noticed his presence. “I’m speaking to a potential interviewee. Can I help you?”
He glared at Josiah. “What’s she asking about me?”
Josiah smirked. “She hasn’t said your name once, man. Quit being paranoid. Aileen’s cool.”
He looked taken aback at that, though she wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she hadn’t asked about him, or that someone thought she was cool.
Probably both, in his mind.
He hitched his gym bag higher over his shoulder. “Yeah, well . . . she’s . . . watch out.” He shook his head and walked toward the entrance for the locker room.