Page 40 of Puck Prince

Turns out, I might actually prefer the whispers behind my back.

“It’s not what it looks like. Owen was just helping me get away from the cameras that are obviously hounding him and?—”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me. Though I think Coach might be a little concerned.”

“And I’ll deal with that when?—”

“When you stop ignoring my texts?” My uncle’s voice booms from behind me. I close my eyes before turning around, forcing a smile on my face.

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I had an early patient and?—”

“My office. Now.” My uncle’s voice isn’t loud. It isn’t angry. Just stern. And from my childhood experiences, I know that is far, far worse.

I follow him, tail between my legs. I don’t dare look at the curious eyes gawking at me in the halls, either. If people weren’t staring and talking before, they sure as hell are now.

He closes the office door and wordlessly gestures for me to sit. There is a beat of silence, and I can feel everything boiling up before he lets it explode.

“Callie.”

“I know—” I start to say, but he holds a hand up.

“What in the actual fuck were you thinking?”

I shake my head. “I was just headed to the doctor. Owen came out of nowhere and?—”

“We are on the home page of every news site right now. Have you seen the pictures and videos?”

“There were videos?” I wince.

“A supposed fling between my star player and his new PT! Who also happens to be my niece!” He tosses his hands up in defeat. “I stuck my neck out to get you this job, Cal. And what do you do first chance you get? How do you repay that? You fuck off into the bushes with Owen Sharpe for all the world to watch! Jesus fucking Christ, Callie!”

“Okay, first of all,” I rush to my own defense, “we didn’t fuck off into the bushes. He pulled me inside the complex?—”

“Right, because that’s so much better. Thank you for clarifying that. Case closed.”

“It’s not what it looks like, Uncle Randy.” I stand up, too antsy to stay planted in the seat like a sitting duck.

“Oh, really?” He yanks his phone out. “Because if you look on any social media or news platform, what it looks like is my PT and my center are about to get it on.”

“Uncle Randy!” Tears brim in my eyes. “I am not involved with Owen Sharpe.”

“Then what is going on? You look sick. You’re sneaking around. I—” He sighs, leaning his elbows on the desktop. “I took a risk hiring you, honey. You’re good at your job, and you know I love you, but I can’t— Iwon’trisk my reputation as a coach and the reputation of my team if you’re going to be careless.”

“I promise you I am not being careless. And I’m just… stressed. That’s all,” I lie. Though it’s not a lie entirely. Iamstressed. “Owen lives next to Kennedy. So I run into him once in a while. But that’s it. The press has been hounding him, comingto the complex to try to make something out of nothing. I just happened to get caught in the crossfire.”

Uncle Randy studies my pleading eyes, but he doesn’t seem to buy it. It hurts, even if I can’t entirely blame him.

“I don’t know, Callie. You know I am a man of second chances, but thiswasyour second chance. And right now, I see the integrity of my team unraveling. If you are going to casually date my players, which goes so far against the rules?—”

“I’m not casually dating Owen Sharpe!” I cut in, but he talks right over me.

“If the higher-ups want to fire you for it, I won’t stand in their way.”

My chin is visibly quivering. “You’d let them fire me over a couple videos of me and Owen running into each other outside the complex we live in? That’s insane.”

“No, Cal, what’s insane is that you have been given another shot in this sports medicine industry, and you’ve managed to throw it away in less than two weeks.”

I have no idea what to say. I gawk at my uncle, frozen. I open my mouth to say something, anything.Speak, Callie, for the love of God.

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