Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Damon’s phone lights up with a message on top of the table. He glances at it, ignores it, and then goes back to looking into my gaze with his telling green eyes.
I lift my hand and hold up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. Best behavior from now on.”
Finally, I get a reaction.
Damon leans back in his seat. “I’m really tempted to get up and say good talk and then go back to the airport, but I need you to know how serious a mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”
I shrug it off. “Same shit, different day.”
“No. Not this time. Do you really want to know why I got on a plane and came all the way out here?”
“Because you and your partner had a fight and you made the excuse you needed to yell at me to fly across the country?”
“Nope. Maddox and I had a fight because I had to get on a plane and fly across the country after being away to attend a press conference for one of my NBA newbies whose career is now over thanks to an injury.”
I force a sympathetic look I don’t feel because I get the impression that nugget about his other player is about to be used against me. So instead of acknowledging it, I go for the easy response. “Aww, you and Maddox fighting over little old me? If you’ve seen the sex tape, you know there’s enough of me to go around.”
“Oskar …”
Uh-oh. That’s Damon’s cut-the-crap tone. It’s amazing how many times he has used it on me over the years. Usually after I did something that has gotten me traded or for an unflattering headline about me. Back before Ezra Palaszczuk went and settled down with Anton Hayes, we both split Damon’s time with our sexcapades landing on tabloid sites and blowing up Twitter. It’s been surprising how much Ezra used to take the heat off me. I’d never noticed until he wasn’t there.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask.
“It’s not so much what I want you to say. It’s what I want you to acknowledge. No team is going to want you if you keep bringing bad publicity.”
“Bullshit. There’s always going to be a team that needs a good D-man.”
“My NBA kid. He had his whole future ahead of him, but because of one fall—one accident—his career is over. You’re here pissing away your future because you can’t keep your sex life behind closed doors.”
“How is that pissing away my future?”
“Because your team owner is threatening to terminate your contract under a morality clause. Do you know how hard it will be for me to pitch you to a new team after that?”
For the first time in my entire career of bouncing from team to team, real fear strikes through me.
It’s one thing to hide behind the façade, letting people think I’m an asshole pretty boy whose only defining characteristic is his looks. It’s another to let that bullshit actually affect my livelihood.
“Th-they said that?”
“Your PR rep called me to give me the heads-up because contrary to what you believe about Lane, he’s actually looking out for you.”
“He’s only looking out for the team.” Because I refuse to believe it’s possible for anyone to care about me or my well-being.
“No. He’s not. He didn’t need to call me. In fact, contacting me first could be detrimental to the team because I might be able to find loopholes in your contract to cut them off at the knees if they so much as mention the word termination to you. It will give me time to prepare.”
That … can’t be right. Can it? “Why would he risk that?”
“Because, like I said. He’s not babysitting you, as you call it. He’s there for you.”
“But … why?”
“I have no clue. If I had an ungrateful player who didn’t fight for himself, I wouldn’t waste my energy on trying to ‘fix’ him.”
My mouth is dry again, and I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t understand why Lane would stick his neck out for me when all I’ve done is made his hair go grayer in the short time he has stayed with me.
Damon breaks into a small smile. “And that’s the reason I got onto a plane. To see that face. You finally look scared, so now you have something to fight for.”
“Lane?”
Damon’s gaze narrows. “Your career. I don’t have to tell you here not to have sex with your PR rep, right? You should already know that.”
After what he just told me, I can’t promise that.
“Tell me you know that.” Damon sounds semi-panicked now.
“I know that I shouldn’t have sex with him. Does that help?”
Damon sighs. “Not at all, but I’m going back home to grovel to Maddox and make it up to him.”
“I hear blowjobs are a great apology.”