Page 13 of Not a Perfect Save

My eyebrows rise so high that I feel my face stretch.

“Uh, no. I can’t do that.” Shuffling backward with a crutch is no joke. I cast an accusing glare at Connor. “I thought last night was a one-time thing?”

He scowls and sends Jessica a mulish side eye. “I told them it wasn’t necessary,” he says at the very same time she pronounces, “It’s very necessary.”

Jessica raises a single, perfectly arched brow at him, “Or do you not want to play in the next game?”

“Of course I do,” he growls. For a second a hint of vulnerability crosses his face before it returns into an implacable expression.

I’m about to agree, but then it hits me.

Connor sees my alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Panic makes me squeak. “I haven’t told my parents.”

“Parents?” His brows crease.

“You know? Those people who birthed me?”

The lines on his face deepen.

“Or maybe you just came fully hatched in your action figure clamshell plastic packaging?”

His lips compress in annoyance, and it takes pains to hold back my cackle. Even Jessica smirks.

“I thought you said there was no one you could call?” His voice is almost accusing.

“There was no one Iwantedto call.”

“Why not?”

I ignore Connor’s question and address Jessica instead, “Are you sure you can’t just put out another statement or something?” This situation is tuning into an unmitigated hairball.

“It’s preferable that the media sees him looking well. A news clip will work better than any kind of release.”

“You need me to do this?” I direct this at Connor.

“No.” His response is curt.

“Yes!” both Jessica and Dan yell at the same time.

Connor glares. “No.”

While he is otherwise occupied staring his entourage down, I tilt my head and I study him.

“One last favor—It’s not like we’re not friends or anything now,” I warn.

This catches him aback. A beat later he says, “Thank you.”

“We’ll want you dressed and media-ready for the press conference.” Jessica is all no-nonsense now as she thrusts a garment bag I didn’t notice earlier at me.

Media-ready? I mouth at Connor above her head. He shrugs.Fine.Stand there and look pretty, Boy Scout.

After changing, I examine my reflection. Uniforms for Damsels-In-Distress include flirty white dresses made of gauzy material with white lace underwear. It’s fall, for god’s sake. Or are they trying to have me go all aquiver for the cameras on purpose?

I hobble back outside ready to tell them I’ve changed my mind. But when Connor’s eyes widen at my transformation, a sudden and unexpected shyness flutters over me at his indrawn breath. Current crackles in the space between us, making the tiny hairs on my arms lift.

I swallow. “D-I-D, signed, sealed, and delivered. You want me to swoon on cue, too?”

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