Page 70 of Puck Me Secretly

My face burned, but I didn’t speak.

Dad popped his head back into the room. “Are we good?”

I nodded.

He eyeballed Baxter.

Baxter nodded. “Got this covered, boss.”

Dad didn’t smile. “Great. Talk to you both later.”

I turned to leave.

Baxter got one last shot in. “Try to stay away from the players. You get on their nerves.”

I stiffened, but I didn’t turn around. Face burning, I walked out of the room.

I hated Baxter, but I feared he was telling me the truth. I wasn’t accepted by the team. No one gave me a hard time, but how did I know that they all didn’t hate me?

I vowed to keep my head down and not bother anyone. Especially the players.

Two days later,Baxter sent me an email asking me to attend the next player meeting. The invite surprised me, but I decided that perhaps he was extending the olive branch after the awkward talk we had with Dad.

I felt excited. I hadn’t seen Max since that night in the hotel. I was wearing a pink fuzzy angora sweater and a pair of skinny cigarette pants with spiky black heels.

“Rory, come sit at the front,” Baxter motioned me to the front of the room. I preferred the back seats, in case I wanted a quick escape, but since Baxter was trying so hard, I weaved my way to the front of the room and sat in the front chair.

Players entered the room. I regretted the pink sweater. It was too fluffy and too feminine. I felt like a bunny in a roomful of wolves. I needed to rethink some of my wardrobe choices. Perhaps wear more neutral or dark colors that would help me blend in.

Baxter showed a video of last week’s games. Then the offense coach talked to the players about two new offensive plays they wanted to try. With my head bent over my book, I made careful notes. I had some serious doubts that our third offensive line could handle the second play. I chewed on my pen and made a note to ask Dad about it later.

I could sense that someone was watching me. I lifted my eyes. Offto the side of the room, Max leaned against the wall. His penetrating gaze focused on me. I flushed and ducked my head back over my book.

The man was way too hot. I swallowed, remembering how he had held me while I sobbed before tucking me into bed. Being cuddled by Max was almost a life changing experience. The sheer size of him, surrounding me, protecting me had made it one of the best cuddles in my history of cuddles.

“What are you writing in your book?”

Baxter had paused his talk and now stared at me.

“Me?”

“You are bent over your little diary writing so intently.” He glanced up at the room, with a smile on his face, inviting everyone into his joke. “We all want to know what kind of notes you write in there.”

I shook my head.

“Yes,” he motioned for me to come up and stand beside him. “Come. Come and talk to us. We’re interested in what you have to say.”

I could feel myself begin to sweat in my fucking angora sweater. Oh shit. Dad would kill me. He didn't want me to talk in these meetings.

“I’m not supposed to talk.”

Baxter’s face broke out into a huge smile. “That’s okay. We won’t tell anyone.”

If I refused, I’d be dubbed a coward. But if I took part, I might sound like a fool. I’d rather be a fool than a coward. With a flushed face, I stood up, and stared down at my notes.

“Well, I made notes about the second play for the third offensive line.”

“Go on,” Baxter was all smiles.

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