Page 19 of Pucking Obsessed

I won’t let him be outed.

But how can I shield him?

Eden and I have been fighting to shield the two players for weeks from increasing intrusion and scrutiny.

A small group of the superfans have crossed the line from fan into someone who thinks that they have a one-sided, unhealthy parasocial relationship with them.

Like they own them.

It’s out of control.

How can anyone be expected to live under this pressure and not crack?

We also deserve to have private lives.

Why do people think that they’re entitled to pressure people to reveal their sexuality, gender identity, or whether they’re submissive or dominant just because they’re in the public eye?

I’m a realist. I know that not everybody will accept how we live our lives.

They don’t need to because it’s none of their fucking business.

Except, are Heine and the board about to make ittheirbusiness in the most devastating way?

Shay moves closer, until we’re standing in a close circle. His hand brushes against mine.

The touch is electric.

This close to the meeting room, however, I don’t dare do more than curl my fingers against his for a moment.

I wish that I could.

“This is for a lifetime, remember?” Shay murmurs, glancing between us both.

I wish that he believed that.

“And not a single day less,” D’Angelo replies, low and possessive.

“Even the sucky ones.” I push as close to the two men as I dare, relishing how much taller they are and the way that I can shelter in their shadows.

When the meeting room bangs open, however, and someone strolls out, we instantly break apart.

My pulse speeds up.

I smooth down my creased blouse, anxiously.

Heine saunters toward us like he should be on a yacht sipping a cocktail with a bright umbrella in it.

I’d recognize him from the number of times that he’s appeared looking powerful and gorgeous on theTimecover alone.

He’s unfairly handsome with cornflower blue eyes and wavy honey blond hair.

Yet those eyes look as dead as a shark’s.

D’Angelo was right.

Heine is dressed like performative art: black skinny jeans, a designer long sleeved t-shirt that matches his eyes, and a bulky jacket, which is embroidered with Gothic skulls.

He demanded that everybody else wore a suit but he deliberately dressed in his signature style.

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