Page 89 of Finding the Forward: Part One
“Homemade, like by the mystery person who puts cupcakes in Grif’s locker and makes the team cake pops?” the reporter from SportsBeat asked. She sometimes got to come into our locker room and saw the cupcakes herself.
I wouldn’t mention Verity to the press without talking to her about it. It was enough that there were pictures of her with us online.
“Oh, I don’t eat brownies and tell.” I gave a lusty wink, and everyone laughed.
We finished up and set off to find Grif so we could board the bus to the hotel.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Jonas growled, arm around me.
“I was going to saybread, you perv. Everyone knows I like bread. She hasn’t even made us brownies. You know that we’re staying at the same hotel she is.” My eyebrows waggled.
“You know she has responsibilities?” he countered.
“You’re seeing someone?” a judgy, nasally voice echoed down the hall.
“I am, not that it’s anyone’s business, except for my pack and they know,” Grif replied, voice tart, his scent sour.
“Grif, baby. A couple months ago, you were having a panic attack about being traded away from your family. Now you’re seeing someone? Keep your head in the game,” he replied, reeking of cologne.
Great. Grif’s slimeball agent was here. I wasn’t even sure how Grif had originally found him. Back then, Chet was some rich kid whose dad had bought him a job at a reputable agency.
Chet still wasn’t a big agent. He’d also gotten a bad reputation.
“I won’t get distracted. Thank you so much for coming out.” Grif’s voice went tight as he clutched a crocheted flower.
“Chet, how nice to see you. I didn’t know you were in town,” I said through gritted teeth as I came up and put a possessive arm around Grif. Chet’s cologne made me sneeze.
Jonas just grunted and eyed him menacingly.
“Double D, baby. Another shutout. Must be nice having everyone home.” Chet made it sound dirty.
The man only ever wore white or pastel suits with matching boots. Today’s was an iridescent pinstripe–and he wore no shirt under his jacket. He wasn’t much older than us, and a lot of people considered him good-looking.
I thought he was sleazy.
“I love having Grif home. Thanks for that,” I replied through gritted teeth.
Not really. Chet could've done better in getting Grif traded to us faster.
“I have some clients playing in that skate smash rookie thing tomorrow, so I was glad I could catch the second half of your game. You’re all on fire. Keep it up. Anyhow. I’ve got to go.” With a wave, the oily agent left.
“I don’t like him. Our agent would take you,” Jonas grumbled to Grif.
Grif shook his head, his hair still damp. “Chet’s been with me since the beginning. He’s done so much for me.”
No, he hadn’t. Grif scored the winning goal in the championship. He should have major sponsors falling all over themselves. All he’d gotten was a photoshoot from the equipment company, Thunderbolt, who wasalreadyhis sponsor, and a small sponsorship from Griffin Sock Company. Grif had been wearing their socks with his suit at finals, given to him by his mom as a joke, and they’d noticed.
He should be doing advertisements for breakfast cereal and sports drinks. Maybe even model underwear like Clark.
“Where did you get the flower?” I eyed it. Was that an omega lily made of yarn?
A goofy grin crossed his face. “I traded a puck for it. Do you think she’ll like it?”
Awww.
“She’ll love it. Guess who’s at our hotel?” I leaned into Grif, getting a hit of his rainy scent.
“Yes. With her siblings,” Grif nodded. “While we can see her, that blowjob from her might have to wait.”
