Page 64 of Puck Fest
The lie comes too quickly, and I sound way too defensive.
But it’s too late to backpedal now.
Dad raises an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“I’m just managing a lot right now. Alex Naylor is still here in the city working on a human interest piece on Masterson, and knowing him, it makes me nervous. Besides that, I have the usual media coordination, making sure everything runs smoothly…” My voice drifts off, jaw tightening.
“Alex Naylor. The journalist you used to date?”
“He covered Friday’s game but he’s still here. I’m keeping an eye on it.”
“Is he going to be a problem?”
More than you know. “He’s fishing for stories. I’m trying to make sure he doesn’t find any.”
“Good.” Dad stands. “Just don’t let it consume you. You’re doing a great job here, Noah. Better than I expected, honestly. Don’t burn yourself out trying to prove something that’s already proven.”
He leaves, and I sit there feeling like the world’s biggest fraud.
Because I am trying to prove something. That I deserve this job. That I earned it. That I can maintain professional standards and make good decisions.
And yet, I just slept with a player I’m supposed to be supervising.
At nine o’clock, there’s a mandatory team meeting. My heart kicks up, my body still feeling the aftershocks of my night with Danny.
I show up early, take my usual seat near the back, and keep my head down.
The players walk in. I see Danny immediately. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, hair still damp from his morning shower. I bite down on the inside of my mouth.
Hot. As. Hell.
Fuck my life.
He sees me. Our eyes meet for half a second.
I tear my gaze away first.
He takes a seat near the front with Carter and Jack. Doesn’t look back.
Good. I let out an unsteady breath. Professional. Exactly what we need to do.
The meeting’s standard stuff. Dad goes over the week’s schedule, upcoming road trip, and reviewing systems. I take notes and contribute when asked about media obligations.
Like nothing’s changed.
Like I didn’t spend Saturday night wrapped in Danny Masterson’s arms while he fucked me six ways from Sunday.
After the meeting, I stand up, feeling eyes on me.
“Noah.”
A shiver ripples through me and I turn to see Danny standing behind me, close enough that I can smell his deodorant.
“Masterson. Something I can help you with?”
His jaw twitches at my formal tone. “Just wanted to confirm the next community service event. Saturday?”
“Yes. Ten AM. Same location.”
