Page 65 of Just a Bit Crushed
“We knew it could happen,” Daniel said grimly.
Alice, the team’s PR officer, frowned at her laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard as she scrolled through pages of reactions and analytics. “Yes, but it could have been worse,” she said. “The Daily Mail didn’t get the pictures themselves, and according to our data, most people don’t believe thestory without evidence. The comments are split between people mocking the article and people treating it as gossip.” She glanced up. “If this had been published by a more reputable outlet, or if the photographs had leaked alongside it, we’d be dealing with a full-scale crisis.”
Cam said nothing. Frankly, he felt no panic at all. Or maybe he was too angry to feel it properly.
The article itself hadn’t shocked him. He’d known this could happen the second Daniel had thrown those photographs across the desk a month ago. None of this was surprising.
What he felt instead was a constant, simmering irritation under his skin, hot and relentless and impossible to get rid of. It had been there for weeks now, an itch with no outlet. He was tired of being managed. Tired of carefully rehearsed statements and strategic distancing and pretending every interaction in his life needed to be filtered through sponsors and PR teams and championship implications. Mostly, though, he was tired because every single thought in his head somehow circled back to Scotty.
His gaze drifted to his phone where it sat face-down on the conference table.
Scott hadn’t answered his calls or texts for weeks now.
Not properly, anyway. There had been a few dry replies to Cam’s messages in the beginning, polite and detached and painfully unlike Scott, but eventually even those had stopped. Now their chat sat silent except for the occasional message from Cam that went unanswered for hours before receiving a bland reaction emoji or a one-word response.
It drove him fucking insane.
Scott hadn’t even texted him on his birthday. Instead of celebrating it in a medieval castle, Cam had gotten drunk alone in his apartment. Then he’d found a shirt Scott had left in his bedroom and jerked off with his face buried in it. In his defense, he’d beenverydrunk.
Daniel was still talking, oblivious to the fact that Cam had mentally checked out a few minutes ago. “The important thing now is consistency. We stay on message. No emotional reactions, no denials that sound too defensive, no sudden changes in behavior.”
Alice nodded. “I agree. The biggest risk now is overcorrecting. If you get a girlfriend now, the timing would make it more suspicious. It’s better to act like the article is nonsense and doesn’t deserve attention.”
“Yes, he can’t behave like he has something to hide,” Daniel said.
His jaw clenched, Cam wondered why he was even there. It wasn’t like they needed his input for this shit.
“We should also discuss the Las Vegas Grand Prix,” Alice said. “There’s already speculation online about whether Palmer will attend the race. Considering that he’s actually in the U.S. now and the fact that the final two races take place in the Middle East, it would logically make sense that Palmer would attend the race in his country if you have nothing to hide.”
“He’s not coming,” Cam said tersely.
The words came out sharper than he intended.Scott wasn’t coming. Cam knew that with the same certainty he knew the feel of a car losing grip beneath him.Scott had been giving him thecold shoulder for over a month now.At least, Cam hoped it was the cold shoulder rather than true indifference.
He didn’t want to believe it was indifference.Scott hadn’t sounded indifferent the last time they’d talked on the phone. Cam remembered that awful phone call with painful clarity: Scott’s flat voice, the forced cheerfulness, the gratingdudeat the end.
The memory made something twist unpleasantly in his chest every single time, but he’d also selfishly kept fixating on it. It was proof that he’d hurt Scotty. He hated that he had, but he hated the thought of Scott not giving a shit even more. Every time he thought about Scott moving on with his life, Camgot the irrational urge to text him immediately just to make sure he was still thinking about him—to make sure he hadn’t simply moved on.
Did that make him a dickhead? Most certainly.
He’d thought he was a better man.
Well, he’d clearly thought wrong. In his defense, he didn’t have many friends. Scott had been—was—his closest mate. It was only natural that he didn’t want to lose him.
Right, said a dark little voice at the back of his head.It’s not very normal to jerk off to the thought of sucking your mate’s tits or fucking his asshole.
Cam shoved the thought to the back of his mind and focused on what Alice was saying.
“…the online cycle will die down if there’s nothing new to feed it. Most likely this becomes another bullshit rumor within two weeks.”
“Maybe we should manufacture some conflict?” Daniel suggested.
They treated his life like one big marketing campaign.
Then again, it was.
For one brief, reckless moment, Cam wanted to tell them both to go fuck themselves. Wanted to walk out of the room, call Scott immediately, and say,Enough. I’m coming over.
The urge was so strong he had to clench his jaw to stop himself from saying it aloud.
