Page 110 of These Pucking Boys: Part Two

I clench my jaw while I read my father’s message.

ASSHOLESPERMDONOR: If you think that nasty video changes anything, you’re mistaken, son. You only made it much easier to get you.

“Jake?” She tilts her head.

“It’s not Doug. It’s my father.”

“Fuck a duck. I forgot about that asshole.” Ryan sets June’s cappuccino in front of her.

“Me too, which was a mistake,” I grit out.

“What does the message say?” Lachy asks.

I lift my face. “That it’s not over.”

My phone starts to vibrate. This time, it’s a call from my agent. “Shit, it’s Larry.”

I leave the table and walk into the living room. Everyone can still hear me, but they can’t see my reaction. I bet Larry doesn’t have good news. He wouldn’t be calling this early.

“It took you long enough,” I say.

“I swear to God, Jake. You want to kill me.”

“Sure. That’s my mission in life. What do you want?”

“What do Iwant? How about you stop giving ammunition to your enemies for a change? I spoke to Peter Maguire. He still thinks you’re a tremendous asset to the team, but ownership wants you gone. His hands are tied.”

My stomach churns. I was afraid this would happen. “I still have three years left in my contract.”

“They want to buy you out.”

“Is that set in stone?” I grit out.

“No. I’m doing my best to convince him you’re worth fighting for. But you have to fucking help me here.”

I start pace, needing to move or I’ll break something. “What do you want me to do?”

“Anything that won’t make you look like a sex deviant would help.”

I run my fingers through my hair. “How about the truth?”

“It depends on the truth.”

I let out a heavy breath. Here goes nothing. “I’m dating June, but so are Lachy and Ryan. It wasn’t a wild night fueled by booze like that tabloids are saying.”

“Hell… are you serious?”

“Like a heart attack.”

“Shit. I don’t know if that’ll help, but it can’t fuck you over more. But Jake... I’m gonna need more than that. We need to convince the owner that you’re not blemishing the name of his team. We’re looking for a fucking miracle.”

“Great. No pressure.”

“What does the lovely Melissa have to say about all that?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her about it.”

“Why not? Isn’t she supposed to be the guru of PR?”

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