Page 113 of My Pucking Crush

“We have a six-p.m. ferry booked to get to your house on the south shore.” It’s a better excuse than saying no.

“Change it then.”

“To when? Eight is the last one.” I really am an assistant now.

“Please. I turned my back on this place because of Jake and my parents. I let their refusal to accept me keep me away from people who were once good to me. I don’t want to be seen as a snob.”

I exhale and want to argue, but he’s the client and it’s my job to make him safe in the environmenthewants. “Did anyone waiting to see your coach look suspicious? Do you knowallthese people?”

“Pretty much.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m going out with my friends. Stay or come with me, your choice.”

No pressure.

I’m facing the fact that I have to guard Max in a social setting that has nothing to do with me. That I have to pretend we don’t have what we have. That I don’t mean something to him. That he hasn’t been fucking me for weeks.

That’sthe part of this I hate the most.

SIXTY-ONE

Max

After the stifled confrontation in front of Coach’s casket with Luca, I wait for Mrs. Avalon to look up from the front-row sofa to acknowledge me. Like most people from my past, I look for a flicker of truth in her eyes.

It sucks not knowing who knows my darkest secret.

Mrs. Avalon only has tears in her eyes, though, and I’m relieved her mind isn’t on me.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. A.” I bend down to offer her my hand to shake.

“Max Ryan!” She stands up, looking elegant but wrung out. “We’re both adults now. Call me Robin.”

“Robin, I’m so sorry about Coach.” I crack my first smile since arriving in my hometown. “He’ll always be Coach to me.”

“Coaching you and watching you grow into the professional athlete you are, thestaron your team, the captain, too, was all he talked about,” she chokes up. “He watched all your games.”

“My parents...” I struggle with words that taste like acid on my tongue. “They never understood me. Why I kept wanting this. I don’t come back here often, and now I feel terrible.”

Especially knowing a few doors down from the shame, guilt, and abuse, a world of praise and acceptance waited for me.

“It’s nothing to feel bad about.” She brushes my arm, looking like she can’t believe it’s really me. Not the scrawny kid who played in her pool.

“If I had known Coach felt this way, I would have given you my season tickets.”Theywould have come to my games, given me some sense of family support. “My parents never wanted them.”

“We never wanted to bother you to ask.” She puts her head down.

And now it’s too fucking late.

“You’re welcome to come to the house after this showing,” she offers.

“I’d love to, but I can’t stay. I’m sorry. We have our next playoff game in two days.” I adjust my tie.

“I understand.” She glances behind me. “It means so much that you stopped by.”

I go to turn away, but she adds, “Who’s that man in the nice suit watching you?”

I freeze and glance over my shoulder. “He’s my bodyguard. There’s been some threats against me. Nothing unusual,” I say, feeling awful for denying who Luca really is to me.

“Oh...” She exhales. “I guess that comes from being famous.”

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