Page 9 of Faking the Shot

“Yep, good to go.”

Megan nods her head and plays with her fingers, then asks, “Can we talk?”

My heart pounds hard in my chest and my palms get a little sweaty. Most of the time, those words were a death sentence, but the way she’s looking at me, I wonder if they might actually be the best words I’ll ever hear.

“Of course.” I reach out my hand and once she takes it, I lead her to the sofa in the far corner of the room, far away from others.

"Look, I know this started as a fake relationship, but..." Megan trails off, her gaze flicking to the lobby. Her fingers twist in the fabric of her blouse, betraying her nerves. "I don't know, Tyler. Is there something real here between us? Because I get a sense there is."

"Really?" I ask, trying to sound casual despite the hope surging within me. "You mean, you feel it too? Because I have to say doing this fake relationship, it’s not right for me."

"Fake relationship?" Mr. Anderson's voice cuts through our conversation like a knife, and we both startle at the sudden intrusion. He stands in the open doorway of an office, with an eyebrow raised, curiosity and surprise mingling in his expression.

"Mr. Anderson, we—" Megan stammers, face flushing.

"Is there something you two want to share with me?" He crosses his arms, not about to let this go.

The need to protect Megan has me taking a deep breath and doing the talking. Realizing there's no way out of this but the truth. "Our relationship started as a... charade. To help Megan fit in with her coworkers."

"Ah." Mr. Anderson nods slowly. "I see. Well, I must admit, I'm disappointed you felt it necessary to resort to such measures. I’ve prided ourselves on being a company that acts as a family."

"Sir, I—" Megan begins, but I cut her off, determined to lay my cards on the table.

"Regardless of how it started," I say, my voice firm, "I need you to know my feelings for Megan are genuine. It’s why I agreed in the beginning.” No longer talking to Megan’s boss, I turn to her and devote all my attention there. “I want to explore what we have together, beyond this weekend." I lock eyes with her, and for once, pure, unadulterated hope replaces the constant amusement I harbor.

Megan's boss, Mr. Anderson, studies us for a moment, his expression unreadable. It's clear he's processing the truth we just laid bare. Megan fidgets beside me, and I can feel her worry emanating off her as she glances back and forth between us.

"Tyler, Morgan," he says, letting out a small sigh. "I appreciate your honesty. Relationships built on lies are never sustainable. But relationships that grow from them... Well, those are rare."

“Sir, she might also not feel included because you never call her by her name.” I’ve had enough of this because seriously, he’s talked to her hundreds of times this weekend alone and never once called her the correct name or even the same name.

He offers a small smile, then winks and continues. "I won't pretend I understand the pressure you both might have felt, but remember, you don't need to impress anyone with a false narrative. Focus on your work, Megan, and let your accomplishments speak for themselves."

Megan’s jaw drops at his use of her correct name.

“Ms. Foster, I’ve always known your name. I was just waiting for you to correct me. You need to find the assertiveness within you to become a top-notch lawyer. I’m only trying to get you there.”

"Oh. Um, thank you, Mr. Anderson," Megan whispers, relief flooding her face.

"And as for you, Tyler," he adds, turning his attention to me. "I wish you all the best in your career and your pursuit of happiness with Megan. Just treat her right, okay?"

"Absolutely, sir," I reply without hesitation. "I promise you that."

“Also, win the damn Stanley Cup already.”

I laughed and nodded. “Will do.”

With a final nod, Mr. Anderson leaves us alone once more. We stand there, hearts racing from the unexpected confrontation, but a sense of relief washes over us. We made it through the awkwardness together.

Taking Megan's hand in mine, I look into her eyes. "So, what do you say? Are you willing to give this a shot?"

She smiles sadly, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes. "Tyler, we live in different states. When in season you travel a lot, I work sixty, seventy hours a week. How are we to make it work?”

“Honey, if we really want this and both make a go at it, and make our relationship a priority, I don’t see how we can’t make it work. I’m not delusional and saying it won’t be easy, but with the technology now, it’s possible. As long as we can Facetime and I get to see your goods all the time, we can become very creative. I mean, I love being bossy, and you take direction so well.” I wink at her.

Megan’s face, ears, and neck go red and I smirk as I imagine her pleasuring herself at my command. Megan swivels her head, wondering if anybody overheard me, and she eases a little as she notices nobody had. I’m going to have to take her upstairs after this conversation.

“Come on, honey. Take a chance on me, on us. I promise you won’t regret it.”

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