Page 61 of Puck Prince

At Callie.

The paper.

Callie.

She speaks up first and takes the words right out of my mouth. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t think I need to explain to you what’s going on in the news right now,” Coach says. “Your little fling is all anyone is talking about. In fact—” He zeroes in on me, and I can feel the heat of his focus like a laser on my forehead. “—your Jumbotron stunt got more airtime on ESPN than the goal you scored. And that was a damn good shot, Sharpe.”

“Thank you, Coach.”

He drops his chin. “That wasn’t a compliment, son.”

“Sorry, Coach.”

Meanwhile, Callie is leaning over the document, fine-tooth combing it with skeptical eyes. “So then this contract is to…?”

“Make it official.”

“Makewhatofficial?” I ask.

“You. This.” He waves a hand back and forth between us to indicate what he’s talking about since he doesn’t seem capable of finding the words for what “this” might be.

I raise a hand of my own. “Hold up. You just said thatthiswas bad publicity. But now, you want us to… agree to keep seeing each other?”

“Glad to see your reading skills are up to snuff, Sharpe.”

“Contractually-obligated boyfriend and girlfriend,” Callie mumbles flatly. “That’s what this is. That’s what you want.”

Coach’s face screws up in a scowl. “For the record, I don’t love it, either. Any of it. The fact that you two are even involved makes me want to smack you over the head with your own damn stick. But at this point, it’s a snowball I can’t stop. Might as well commit.”

I know I should probably just agree. I’m in a very hot seat right now. But I still don’t understand the motive. If I’m signing a paper that feels more like blackmail than business, I think I have a right to know why.

“No disrespect, Coach, but what are you getting out of this?”

“Preservation of what is left of my reputation as the head coach for the Houston Scythes,” He answers. “We have a fundraiser coming up, and I don’t want it to be some reality TV shitshow with the press buzzing around trying to dig up the latest dirt on the drama that is my star player dating my niece. You two as committed sweethearts is more palatable than you being fuck buddies.”

“Good Lord,” Callie groans, dropping hot cheeks into her hands.

Coach continues. “You parade her down the red carpet at the fundraiser and donate a hefty sum to the charity, all with a smile on your face and hearts in your eyes, and the crowd will swoon before getting their heads back in the game where they belong.”

Callie sits back, processing what he’s just said.

I’m hung up on one part.

“I’m taking Callie to the fundraiser as my date?”

“I’ll be damned: your listening skills are as good as your reading.” He scowls again, handing me a pen. “You got a problem with that?”

“No. It’s just… I’ve never taken a date to one of those before.” I offer a weak smile. No one else is amused.

Least of all Callie. She’s stiff and silent at my side.

“That sounds like a you problem, Sharpe.Youdecided to hook up with my niece.Youdecided to take her to the busiest sports bar in town.Youtackled her mouth-first in front of the paparazzi. Andyoubulldogged your way up to her at the last game in full view of all the TVs in the state of Texas. Now,youare going to see this thing through for a charitable cause.”

Signing my life away on the dotted line was not on my bingo card for the day. But at this point, I don’t see any other option.

It would be nice to at least talk to Callie about this first. This and the kiss at the game.

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