Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Well…that was because his boyfriend knew, now, wasn’t it?
“What’s going on, Tuck?” Ramsey asked while he joined Garrett on the sofa. Atwood sat in the armchair beside them.
Fuuuuck. This sucked. I tugged at my earlobe, scratching it to distract myself. It was one thing to tell the Rush organization as a whole, but saying it to them was more personal.
“Some shit’s about to go down, and I honestly don’t know what the fuck is going to happen, and before it gets out, I wanted to tell you guys.” That grabbed all their attention. Garrett sat forward on the cushion, gaze zeroed in on me, Atwood watching me in a similar way. “I’m with Patrick,” I said.
“Who the fuck is Patrick, and why does that matter?” Garrett asked while Ramsey cursed. G wasn’t even used to hearing Whitt’s first name, and the thought of me being with Whitt was so foreign to him he would never guess it.
“You’re fucking Patrick Whitt?” Atwood asked. “So? He’s hot.” Leave it to him not to be bothered by it.
“You’re fucking Patrick Whitt?” Garrett questioned, an edge to his voice. “That motherfucker? Jesus Christ, Tuck. He’s a prick.”
“I’m with Patrick Whitt, and I love you like a brother, but if you don’t calm the fuck down when his name’s in your mouth, we’re going to have a problem.”
“I love you like a brother, but watch how you talk to him, or we’re going to have a problem,” Ramsey threw back at me. “He’s surprised, is all.”
This was going all wrong. Fighting with them was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Aren’t I supposed to be the wild card out of the group of us?” Cullen broke the tension, and I sighed.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s just a mess.” I collapsed into the other armchair, leg bouncing up and down. “Someone from their team saw a text from me and went to Patrick. He talked to Houston, and we decided to go to management before shit got out, but…it’s not good. They’re talking about investigations—asking us if we’ve ever thrown games or given insider information.”
“You wouldn’t do that,” Ramsey said. “Anyone who knows you knows that.”
A relieved breath escaped my lungs hearing him say that. “That’s not how a lot of people are going to see it. I’m freaking the fuck out here. Patrick’s blaming himself, and Jesus, what if I lose football over this?” What if I lost Patrick?
“Cullen and Houston are together, and it’s not a big deal,” Ramsey added.
“They put shit in his contract about it. He didn’t tell me until later,” Cullen replied. “And I can’t believe he didn’t tell me about this.”
“No shit?” That made me feel a little better.
“Plus, he’s not a player. He can’t fumble the ball on purpose or miss a fucking tackle.” Everything we did would be scrutinized from this moment forward. Every move we made would be under the microscope. I rubbed a hand over my face, muscles tight with stress.
“Holy shit. You’re in love with him,” G said, surprise softening his voice. “You’re in love with that—” Ramsey nudged his arm. “Whitt.”
“That Whitt?” I cocked a brow.
“I’m trying here, bro.”
He was, and I appreciated the shit out of him for that…and I was. Garrett was absolutely right. “I’m in love with that Whitt,” I told him. “He’s not who you think. I mean, yeah, he can be a dick, but so can Atwood, and we like him.”
“Hey, fucker. I’m being supportive. Why are you throwing me under the bus?” he teased.
“How long?” Ramsey asked, hurt in his voice.
“A little over a year.” The party at the Montrose mansion was last summer. “We were talking before that. It wasn’t supposed to be a thing. Fuck, you know more than anything how much I used to hate his ass, but it just happened. Now he’s mine, and I won’t lose him. I don’t care what the consequences are. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Ramsey sighed, then reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “We’re good.”
“Thanks, man.” I looked at Atwood next.
“I got your back if for no reason other than I’m not the one on the team with the biggest fuckups anymore.” He winked, and I appreciated his humor. Cullen had gotten into trouble for a lot of shit over his career, but not for sleeping with someone from another team. He’d never had his integrity called into play.
“G?” My gaze found Garrett’s. His brows were drawn together, and his—yep, there was definitely a tic in his jaw, but then he let out a deep breath.
“We’re good. I seriously question your taste in men, but we’re good.”
Thank fuck. I needed these three guys in my corner.
My phone rang before I could say anything else. My stomach dropped out because I knew whatever it was wouldn’t be good.
“Hello?”
I listened as my agent spoke, not arguing, no matter how much I wanted to. The second I ended the call, my arm drew back, and it took everything in my power not to throw my phone against the wall…but if I did that, I couldn’t talk to my man.