And if he’s noticed how much time Noah and I spend together, other people might have too.
I get in my truck and pull out my phone.
Alex just cornered me in the parking garage. Asked about us.
Noah responds before a few seconds passes.
Shit. What did you say?
That you’re my PR director. That Marshall assigned you. Nothing else.
Good. Don’t engage with him. Don’t give him anything.
I won’t. But he’s not going away. He knows something’s there.
He suspects. He doesn’t know.
What if he finds out?
I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.
We’ll deal with it.
You sure?
No. But I’m sure about you. That has to be enough.
I drive home, and the entire way I’m thinking about what Noah said.
I’m sure about you.
Not about us. Not about the situation. Not about how this ends.
Just about me.
And maybe that’s all we’ve got right now.
CHAPTER 19
NOAH
The team flightto Detroit leaves at noon on Thursday.
I sit three rows behind the players with my laptop open, working on media schedules for the upcoming games. Danny’s two rows up, laughing at something Carter said.
He hasn’t looked back at me once. Good. That’s what we agreed to.
I grit my teeth. It still feels wrong.
My phone buzzes with a text from Marshall.
Make sure you coordinate with Detroit’s media team for pre-game interviews. They want Masterson.
Of course they do. The redemption story sells.
I text him back and put my phone away, ready to focus on work for the rest of the flight.
The team arrives in Detroit in the late afternoon. Everyone’s ready to check into the hotel and decompress before tomorrow’s game.
