Page 16 of Scoring Eden

“Well, it’s here,” I choke out.

“Do you think she’d be willing to pull a few PR stunts with you to get the media back on side?”

Well, shit, I didn’t think this all the way through. “I can ask her. I don’t know, though…”

I’ll have to find a woman willing to play pretend with me first.

Coach reaches over to squeeze my shoulder. “I’m sure she will if she understands what’s at stake here.”

“Yeah.” I cough into a closed fist. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

He slaps his knee and stands. “Then we have a plan. Talk to your girl, and I’ll see what I can do with the higher-ups. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do what I can, okay? It’d be a damn shame to see you go.”

Relief soaks me like cold water after a game on a hot day followed quickly by a tidal wave of self-loathing. I nod my thanks, unable to speak through the shame strangling me.

“You’re free to go. But God above, Wolfe, no more scandals, okay? It’s gonna be an ache in my balls trying to plead your case, and I don’t need anything making it worse. You understand?”

Scandal isn’t a strong enough word to describe what would happen if Coach finds out I’ve lied to him. The investors would be the least of my worries. If I fuck this up, Coach will throw me off the team himself.

“Yes, Coach.” I nod solemnly. “I understand.”

“You better.”

TEXT THREAD BETWEEN ALEX AND COACH CARTER

Coach: Good news! Purview has agreed to keep you on as captain, but it comes with stipulations that you’ll need to follow. To the fucking T, Wolfe. I’m serious.

Coach: Including bringing your girl to the preseason party next weekend. They want to meet her.

Alex: Sure thing, Coach. Thank you.

Coach: I’ll pop their expectations in an email. Study it. Do everything they ask of you.

Alex: Yes, sir.

Coach: I stuck my fucking neck out for you, boy. Don’t let me down.

FIVE

EDEN

Anderson’s fiddling with the strings of his scrubs again as he looms over me at my desk. His hands splay on the cheap veneer, humped nose just inches from mine.

“I know you took it.”

I force myself not to flinch. He doesn’t deserve my fear, and I’m not about to back down in the face of stealing allegations.

Not today, Satan.

“I didn’t take your watch, Anderson.”

“Doctor Anderson,” he spits.

He’s so close to me I can smell the eggs he had for breakfast. Rotten, just like him. My lip twists into a grimace as I lean back in my chair.

“Right. Doctor Anderson.” My finger creeps up between us to wipe his saliva off my cheek. “I didn’t take your watch. Maybe Angela has seen it.”

I keep my tone saccharine, my smile even sweeter.