Page 54 of Dream Chaser
“AKA, needle dicks disconnected the call when I was—” Ava stops and lifts a shoulder and a brow.
“Telling them your dick was bigger than theirs, and they could choke on it.” Logan bites back a laugh.
“That was”—Lucas runs his hand through his hair—“unfortunate.”
I glance over at her husband, Luke Lane, who is sitting with his elbows on his knees, Knights ball cap pulled low, not saying a damn word.
Smart man.He knows when to let Ava go off and when to step in. This wasn’t one of those times.
Ava pulls in a breath, like she’s trying to rein it in, and Lucas uses the moment to redirect.
“We’re gonna move forward like pros—eyes ahead. We’ve got press requests coming, and your agents will be looped in. You’ll be given statements. Say those and nothing more. Not a syllable. Understood?”
Some nod. Some shrug. A few still too mad to respond.
Then Bricks, whose sporting sunglasses, speaks up. “So we just bend over and take it?”
Lucas sighs, jaw clenched. “No. But we bide our time. We stay united. We let the tape and our silence speak for us. Because when this blows up again, and it will, we’re not gonna be the ones standing in the shitstorm.” He scans the room. “Let the league show their cards. Ours? We hold close to the chest.”
The room stays tense. Everyone’s wound tight, and not one of us has truly let that game go. But this … this is strategy. And strategy wins wars.
Yeah, we all feel it. That tight ball of injustice simmering just below the surface.
But this is the league. Their rules. Their game. And we either play it smart … or get played.
I trust that there’s more going on in the background and we’ll know when we need to know.
Someone clears their throat, and trays of food are finally rolled in.
Lucas nods toward the food. “Eat, and then we’re gonna take off, beat the next storm. In flight, we’ll be sending messages for your exit meetings. We’re going to try to get through them as quickly as we can so you can all get to it.”
Distraction: bacon, eggs, steak, fried potatoes, fruit, and black coffee.
I make my way to the back of the line, but not before Lucas stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“I heard about last night,” he says low. “Thanks for saying something.”
I nod once. “You ever gonna bench him for shit like that?”
Lucas replies, “Not shit we can do about infidelity, but no one was to bring guests to the room. One more strike, and his contract won’t see preseason.”
I don’t say anything. I just grab a plate and start stacking it with enough protein to rebuild a muscle group.
Hunt sidles up beside me, leans in. “You good, man?”
“Yeah.”
He studies me. “You look like you didn’t sleep.”
I smirk. “I slept fine.”
His eyes narrow, and then he laughs, low and knowing. “Izzy, huh?”
I don’t confirm or deny. Hunt won’t say shit; he’s one of the best guys I know, and also the only other single man from our LU days.
I pop a piece of bacon in my mouth.
But that doesn’t mean my head isn’t a goddamn mess, and I may have to talk through my fucking feels at some point. Oz will be my guy.
