Page 22 of One Last Puck

“Anytime,” I replied softly. Damn, my heart was racing. “You just gotta remember why you’re here.”

“I belong here,” she whispered to herself.

“You damn right. You do.” I smiled at her, and the urge to let her know about my bet with my teammates resurfaced.

The shit was stupid and childish, and I’d only made it because I knew she was mine. I felt that shit the first day she came across my screen. She was more than just a prize in a game, though, and I should have shut the shit down from the jump.

“Faye, I need to tell you something.”

Her eyebrows raised just as a staff member poked their head into the waiting area.

“Lafayette, they’re ready for you on the red carpet,” she announced.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I better get going. What were you going to say?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Go catch up to that dream, shawty,” I said, and she shot me a smile before leaving the room.

I stood there for a moment. This just wasn’t the right time to tell her. This was her moment. I couldn’t ruin it. I wouldn’t ruin it.

I made my way to the red carpet, meeting up with a few of my teammates along the way. My nigga Reese was sharp as fuck in his red suit. The vibes were good.

“Jaxton! Over here!” a journalist shouted, and I turned to offer a wide smile, ready to play my role as the charming playboy athlete.

“You’re presenting tonight. Are you excited?” the reporter questioned.

“It’s always a fun time at the EPIC Awards,” I replied, winking at the camera.

“Let’s talk about the Athlete of the Year award. You’re presenting with the lucky fan from the contest. How’s that whole experience been?”

“It’s been cool. I’ve been a faithful viewer ofThe Porter Reportfor a while now, so it’s cool. I had the pleasure of meeting Lafayette Porter yesterday, and she’s amazing,” I replied, glancing up and spotting her interviewing some celebrities.

I wished I could be there beside her, offering that same quiet support I had earlier, but she looked like she was killing it. The interviews wrapped up, and I waited for Faye to finish her segment backstage. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I didn’t want to move without her.

“That was freaking amazing!”

She finally reappeared. The change in her demeanor was evident. Her nerves had been replaced, and that firecrackerattitude was back. She walked toward me, smiling from ear to ear.

“How did it go, superstar?” I greeted her with a warm smile breaking across my face.

“Perfect.” She was beaming now.

“Great. You belong here. Now, let’s go take our seats for the show.”

“Is that Zion James?” Faye squealed and pointed as Zion walked past her down the aisle probably on his way to the bathroom or some shit.

“Yeah.” I smirked as she took out her phone and snapped a picture.

She’d been this way all night. Giddy, smiling, and taking pictures to show her folks when she got back home. It was cute, and I didn’t blame her. It was her first awards show. The innocence of it all was refreshing, contagious really. Shit, she even had me fanning out a few times, and I’d been to a bunch of these industry awards shows. I had Zion’s number, but that didn’t stop me from smiling, pointing, and helping Faye snap a picture for her pops.

“My daddy is going to flip,” she whispered as the lights dimmed and the show moved to its next segment.

“He a Zion fan?” I questioned.

“The biggest.” She grinned.

I nodded my head. I was going to use that to my advantage later. A nigga wasn’t above bribing her pops if I had to.

“Sup, nigga? Excuse me.”

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