Page 49 of Broken As Puck

I smiled, charmed despite myself. It was obvious he doted on the cat, and even if it hadn’t been, the photo of the cat with its claws sunk into a six-foot-tall cat tree would have made it clear. Although…this might be more of a cat palace than a tree. It was over the top and completely adorable.

“Very cute,” I said.

Coaches Dunn and Willets finished their conversation just in time to catch the tail end of ours and both pulled their phones from their pockets to show me their pets.

“Oh, by the way,” I said as a thought occurred to me. “You should know that all of the animals involved in our photo shoot have been adopted and the shelter received an additional twenty thousand dollars in donations after our posts went live.”

Matt beamed. “That’s amazing!”

Coach Dunn cleared his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, not least because the last thing I want is for my wife to get it into her head that we need another pet.”

The food came and it was excellent. I polished off my plate and sat back, full and more comfortable than I’d expected, considering who was sitting beside me. Apparently, my body’s natural tendency to tense up around Matt was slowly waning.

Down the table, Brown’s voice rose above the others, although I couldn’t quite tell what he was saying, but when Delacrue spoke, he was clear as a bell.

“I’m not raising money for that.”

“You’ve got to, or the commissioner might punish us,” Brown growled back. “Your personal opinion doesn’t matter.”

Delacrue snorted. “We’re meant to be fixing our reputation, not making everyone think we’re⁠—”

“Shut up,” Drew interrupted.

Fortunately, they did.

I raised an eyebrow at Matt. “I wonder what that’s about.”

He looked uncomfortable and murmured quietly enough for the cameras not to pick him up, “I think Delacrue is a closet homophobe. He isn’t happy about the fundraiser.”

My lip curled. Didn’t it just make sense that an asshole like him would be a bigot as well? “Has anyone talked to him about that?”

Matt’s lips thinned. “Who’d want to?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Matt had always been conflict-averse and that it had contributed to our breakup.

He sighed. “I’ll try, but I doubt he’ll listen.”

By the time dessert arrived, I was ready for bed and not quite sure I had room for it. The trouble was, it looked so good. Lemon sorbet with plump strawberries and some kind of fruity sauce.

I stared down at it, debating whether to take a bite. I loved good food, but I was also aware that when someone like me ate dessert, people noticed—and they had opinions about it. Especially when those people were all super-ripped professional athletes.

“Don’t you want it?” Matt asked, nudging me playfully, obviously hoping to ease the strained silence between us.

I bit my lip. “I might be too full.”

He winked. “A mouthful won’t hurt.”

He was right, but I couldn’t help feeling self-conscious. I was happy with my body for the most part, but every now and then, the memory of what that asshole Cory had said came back to me, along with the echoes of my ex and countless high school bullies, and made me doubt things. Cory was hardly the first person to have made a crack about my weight, but I think the fact that he’d said it to Matt, who hadn’t defended me—as far as I’d heard—made it hit harder.

I’d been used to people failing to stand up for me, but I’d expected better of Matt, and he’d let me down.

Suddenly determined not to let Cory take up any more space in my brain, I scooped a nice-sized portion of sorbet and sauce into my mouth. It was cold on my tongue and had a pleasant zing that contrasted with the sweetness. I allowed it to melt before swallowing and then helped myself to more.

Matt was eating too, so I tuned in to a conversation farther down the table. Max had a camera pointed at Jesse while Patrick asked him who he was closest to on the team. Jesse looked around with a shit-eating grin, as if expecting his teammates to start clambering for him to name them his favorite.

Then, with a particularly mischievous twinkle in his eye, Jesse wrapped his arm around Drew’s shoulders. “McKinley is my BFF. I know he comes across as a grouch, but on the inside, he’s just a big, squishy marshmallow.”

Drew glared and tried to push him off.