Page 169 of Red Zone
Grayson watches me for a beat before pushing off the doorframe and softening his tone.
“I’m not judging you,” he adds gently. “I’m really not. But this job you’re doing? It’s a good thing. A really good thing. And Carter…well, he’s got everything riding on his image too.”
He pauses, like he’s choosing his next words carefully.
“I just don’t want to see either of you mess up something you’ve worked for because of…whatever this is between you. Even if you’re not doing anything wrong, people can twist it. You know how fast a rumor can catch fire.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight.
Grayson straightens, shouldering his backpack again, and his usual grin flickers back into place.
“Just…be careful, okay? You’re good at what you do, Lyla. Don’t let anything get in the way of that.”
I force a faint smile, even though my chest aches.
“Thanks,” I say quietly.
He nods once, like that settles it, and then heads out the door with a little two-finger salute.
When the door shuts behind him, I sit there for a long moment, staring at my planner without seeing it.
Because as much as I hate to admit it…
He has a point.
43
CARTER
Icut through the athletic offices with my hands shoved in my hoodie pocket, ignoring the sting in my shoulder from this morning’s lift.
On my way to meet with Lyla.
Same as every week. Same time, same room, same stack of notes she’s already got ready before I even sit down.
I could’ve let her email me the updates like she offered after everything with Jaxon…but I didn’t.
Because letting her push me to the sidelines like I’m just another name on her notebook? No fucking chance.
Even if things between us are still tense.
Even if she can barely look at me without her shoulders going stiff.
I’d rather take the awkward silence and her clipped little professional smile than nothing at all.
So, here I am.
Her door’s at the end of the hall, cracked open already, but I slow when I hear a voice behind me.
“Well, if it isn’t QB1 himself.”
I glance over my shoulder.
Savannah.
She’s leaning against the wall by the water cooler, twirling her car keys on her finger like she’s got nowhere better to be.
Her ponytail’s perfect, her lip gloss just as sharp as her smile.
