In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,56
think I might be starting to like you. Wait. Like is too strong. Let’s just say, I’m starting not to mind your existence on my planet.”
“That’s big of you, Kyle.”
“I know.”
Oriana rolled her eyes. She was used to her brother. “Just so we’re clear . . . I wasn’t questioning the panda just to be a dick.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really. I was trying to get your friend laid.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Nothing better to do. And she looks like one of those . . . caring people. I knew she’d be all insulted for him.”
“That’s really sweet of you.”
“I’m really sweet.” She thought a moment, added, “When I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“You know, it’s funny,” Kyle said, putting his long legs up on the rail in front of him, “I never have that little to do . . .”
* * *
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Stevie shrugged. “I might as well. I’m out here. I’m wearing the outfit.” She glanced at Shen. “Or are you saying that because you don’t want to give me the ball?”
Shen pulled the ball tighter into his chest. “I wanna play with the ball.”
She fought a smile and tried to sound stern. “Put the ball on the ground.”
“The other pandas will play with me.”
“Shen!” Then, despite herself, she laughed.
Stevie had to admit . . . she’d thought she’d be helping Shen deal with the psychological fallout of Oriana’s bitchiness. But he didn’t seem to care. Instead, he was trying to make her comfortable in this strange, new environment.
She knew this because it’s what her sisters always did. Charlie by talking to her and Max by irritating the shit out of her so that she was distracted. Shen was using the “teasing” distraction. A type of distraction she’d never favored . . . until now.
“Can we get moving on this?” the team captain called out from the other end of the pitch. A cheetah who worked in software engineering. A field Stevie dabbled in herself when she was bored.
Shen placed the ball at her feet. “Now, remember,” he said, stepping away from her. “This is just for fun. For relaxing. So no stress to succeed at all costs.”
She shook her head. “You really have been around the Jean-Louis Parker kids way too much.”
“You speak true words.”
Stevie looked at the ball, the goal at the end of the field, the goalie standing in front of it, and then back at the ball.
Thirty-seven calculations—or twelve seconds—later, she took several steps forward and kicked the ball.
It skittered past the goalie and into the net.
There was a moment of silence, then everyone turned to look at her.
Stevie shrugged and explained, “Physics.”
* * *
After ten minutes or so, Shen returned to the stands, again sitting with Oriana and Kyle. Together they watched Stevie MacKilligan tear her way around the pitch like she’d been born to it.
He wouldn’t say she was necessarily pro level. That game moved way faster and was definitely deadlier. But for an occasional weekend team, she was too good, which everyone else seemed to love.
Shen’s question, though, was how much did Stevie love it? If she loved it at all.
It was hard to tell. She was pretty expressionless out there when doing anything but focusing on the ball. And when she focused on the ball, she simply looked . . . confused.
Until she sent the ball careening into the net.
“Is that my sister?”
Shen had no idea how long Max had been sitting beside him, but he was proud that he didn’t jump out of his skin and try to disembowel her.
“That’s her,” he said when he was confident he wouldn’t yell at Max to never to do that again.
“Who knew she could do anything physical except run away? ”
“I thought you guys taught her to run away.”
“Charlie taught her that. You’d be amazed how many times someone has tried to snatch Stevie off the street. And not just because my father had sold her to Peruvian drug lords either.”
Shen looked over at Kyle and he gave a short nod. Don’t ask, he silently suggested.
But Shen had to know. “Your father sold his own daughter to drug lords?”
“Oh, he’s done lots of things. Little tip . . . if Charlie is ever on your ass about something and you want her to stop, just bring up our dad. By the time she’s finished telling those stories, she’ll have completely forgotten whatever you fucked up.”
“Good to know.”
The practice-slash-tryout ended and a panting, sweaty Stevie walked over to them.