Page 119 of Pucking Tangled
Another nudge.
“Hey, Case. Wake up.” It was Luca.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his bearings.
News breaking about their relationship.
Mia.
Their public statements.
Coming together as a…whatever the hell they were.
Chinese food in the living room and falling asleep together on the floor.
“Earth to Casey.” Luca chuckled. “We’ve got a meeting at 10am. All of us. PR Staff. The GM. They want us to bring Mia.”
That got his attention. He sat up fast, his heart thumping hard.
“Fuck.” He already knew what this meant.
It wasn’t about contracts or trades.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and stood, taking a moment to adjust his morning wood before he poked someone’s eye out.
He could smell coffee brewing and heard soft voices from in the kitchen. Clearly he was the last to wake up.
Luca tossed him his phone.
And there it was. A string of texts from their coach.
The last one said it all.
Coach M: This meeting is not optional. We’ll see you at 10.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he made his way into the kitchen.
He headed to Mia first, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
She smiled up at him nervously from where she was sitting at the table with her cup of coffee in hand. “Luca told you?”
“Yeah,” Casey sighed, making his way to Owen who was at the stove flipping eggs and bacon like it was any other day and their entire relationship wasn’t about to be scrutinized.
He wrapped his arms around Owen’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder. “This fucking sucks.”
Owen set the spatula down and turned to him. “It is what it is. Hopefully, the organization’s got our back.”
“I don’t like that they’re calling in Mia, too,” he whispered, hoping she didn’t overhear him. He didn’t want her to worry, not after everything that had happened already. “Can they even do that?”
Owen shrugged and turned back to the stove. “They did. But it might actually be a good thing.”
Casey snorted. “I hope you’re right.”
“Here,” Luca said, handing him a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” Casey took the first sip. “Ah. That’s better,” he chuckled. “Where’s Waylon?”
Mia stared down into her coffee cup and whispered. “He’s…uhm…pacing in the garage.”
