Page 24 of Huge Pucking Play

My heart soars when he agrees with the “amazing” part but it dips back down again, knowing nothing can come of it.

"Exactly." I glance around, lowering my voice. "If Marjorie got wind of this, she'd have my head on a platter."

"Marjorie?" He looks confused.

"My boss? The she-devil in Louboutins?" I explain, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Trust me, she's a nightmare."

Garrett leans back, surprise evident on his face. "I haven't had any interactions with her yet. Is she really that bad?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "Bad doesn't even begin to cover it. Last year, she fired an intern for bringing her the wrong type of sparkling water.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And then last week, Barnesy—you know who I’m talking about, right?—was flirting with me during his PT session. He’s a pain in the ass but it was just some harmless banter. But Marjorie saw and pulled me aside later."

Garrett leans in, his brow furrowed. "What did she say?"

"She accused me of flirting with him," I say, rolling my eyes in disbelief. "Said I was 'compromising team dynamics' with my 'inappropriate behavior.' Can you believe that bullshit?"

"That's ridiculous," Garrett scoffs.

"Tell me about it. I tried to explain, but she wouldn't even let me talk. Threatened to fire me if it happened again."

The waitress arrives with our food, momentarily halting our conversation. The aroma of home-cooked comfort food fills the air, but I’m so amped up at this point, my appetite has vanished.

"This whole situation is so crazy," I say taking a small bite of mashed potatoes.

Garrett nods, his fork paused midway to his mouth. "You're not kidding. One minute we're meeting in Vegas, the next we're colleagues in Chicago. It's like some cosmic joke."

"A joke that could cost me my job if anyone finds out," I add grimly.

"I get it," Garrett says softly. "Your career is important to you. And clearly, Marjorie needs to know nothing about our past.”

"Right," I agree, shifting in my seat. The silence stretches between us filled with unspoken questions and the echoes of what can't be pursued.

"So..." I begin.

"Friends?" Garrett suggests, a hint of regret in his voice.

"Friends," I echo, forcing a smile. The word feels hollow, but it's the only safe option.

We fall into a comfortable silence, focusing on our meals. The meatloaf is indeed delicious, just as Garrett promised. My appetite has rebounded now that the difficult conversation is out of the way. I take a bite, savoring the rich flavors.

"You weren't kidding about this meatloaf," I say, breaking the quiet.

Garrett grins, a playful glint in his eye. "I never kid about good food, Cyn. It's a serious matter."

I laugh. "Oh really? What other culinary gems are you hiding up your sleeve, Coach Hughes?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he teases, waggling his eyebrows.

"Maybe I would," I shoot back, surprising myself with my boldness.

“Stick with me and I’ll take you to all the finest diners in Chicago,” he teases.

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the air crackles with electricity. I clear my throat, looking away first.

"So, tell me about your yoga practice," Garrett says, smoothly changing the subject. "You looked like a pro in there."

---