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“I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
“Yes, you will. I’ve gotta go. Coach is waiting.”
I walked into the sunlight and into the hotel. I wasn’t prepared when a reporter popped up from behind a plant.
“Wes, do you want to comment on the rumor that you used HGH and regenerative gels to repair broken bones?”
“Who the hell are you?” My hand was already balled in a fist.
“Jerry Cole with the Sports X.” He pushed a recorder in front of my face. “Is it true? Did you use substances banned by the AFA?”
I shoved his hand out of the way. “I’m not commenting on rumors.”
“So was it really a break and not a sprain? Did the Wranglers lie about your injury?”
I walked away, heading toward the elevator.
“Did your girlfriend help you get the HGH? Did she have access to the illegal substances? It’s Dr. Lennon Ashworth, right??
??
At the mention of her name, my eyes blazed. Who did this fucker think he was? Before I had a chance to deck him and flatten on the marble floor, Stubbs was next to me, pulling me into a conference room. He slammed the door behind us.
“Calm the fuck down, Blakefield.”
My chest was heaving. My pulse was thumping.
“They’re going to drag her into this,” I groaned.
“Stop right there.” He put his hands up. “I don’t want to know anything. Nothing about your hand. Nothing about HGH. Nothing about you and your girlfriend. Don’t say another word. If there is an investigation, I want to be able to say I know nothing. Got it?”
“Then why’d you drag me in here?” I glared at him, feeling my blood pressure starting to drop.
“To stop you from punching out that reporter in front of everyone. I can’t help you with what’s already happened, but maybe I can stop you from making a mistake today.”
I hung my head. “Thanks.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
“I would.”
“Get up to your suite. Get on the phone with your agent and come up with a plan.”
I chuckled. “You make it sound simple.”
“This is all just noise, man. Noise because no one wants the Wranglers to win.” He slapped me on the back, then poked his head out the door. “That guy’s gone. I think you can head up now.”
“Thanks, again.” I felt calmer, less likely to slug someone. There was a way out of this. There always was. I just had to figure out what it was, and how much it was going to cost me.
26
Lennon
I was about to land in San Diego. My world felt ripped apart. The press hounded me. Wes had been accused of cheating the AFA rules, and I was five days late. I was never late. My period ran like clockwork.
One thing at a time. I couldn’t tell Wes about that now. Could be a total false alarm. But I couldn’t help it. My hand went to my stomach, wondering if there was a little life there. Had Wes and I made a baby? My chest clutched with anxiety at the thought. We couldn’t be parents. And not now, with this scandal falling from the sky.
I walked down the jetway, stopping to find my luggage before locating the sign with my name on it. Ever since I left Wes’s apartment with a new security detail, I felt the need to look over my shoulder. I didn’t trust anyone. I couldn’t strike up a conversation with the lady next to me on the plane who babbled on and on about her twins. What if she tweeted something about me? What if she tried to weasel out some personal detail about Wes?
