Page 9 of Who's Saving You
Nik Papas shouldn’t be this polished. He shouldn’t be this easy to like. He’s a young rookie, only twenty-three years old, and yet he’s already everyone’s favorite, even if you don’t like the Warriors. Having done many of these lifetime pieces, I can’t trust any of it. I was even honored for one of my first articles written detailing the story of a well-known businessman who was exposed for prostitution. Everyone has lies and secrets just waiting to be found out.
Everyone who puts on a show seems to be hiding something. And finding it? That’s my job. It’s what helps me sleep at night yet keeps me awake with excitement. I love being the one to break a story, to push a grown man to tears, or force a secret out that they’ve been dying to tell, but just didn’t have the right moment.I’mthat moment. I’m not about to let a man, or woman for that matter, get away with screwing over others.
Papas looked me in the eye when he spoke, like he had nothing to hide. Again, too clean, too polished. I’d fallen for that once, a man who said all the right things until I found out every word was a lie. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
And while he's been giving me bits and pieces in between cookie time and presents, I realize he’s said nothing real. Charity stats, rehearsed lines, and a brief mention of his mother and sister. No mention of Dad, but this isn’t anything I can’t already Google for myself.
Which means he’s hiding something.
And it’s probably juicy.
Nik finally makes his way back to me, the Santa hat gone now. He pulls off his Warriors hoodie and runs a hand through his dark hair. On the surface, nothing screams bad boy about this guy.Saintis plastered all over him like a brand.
Like apracticedbrand.
“You do this every year?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Three years running,” he says. “We started it in my junior year in college. My sister and my agent said it would be a smart move. You want a quote about how ‘giving back is the real win?’ I’ve got three versions ready to go.”
“I want what you’re not rehearsing.”
He pauses, looks at me. “That’s not how this goes.”
“I’mnot how this goes.” I clear my throat. “Tell me why you didn’t sign on with your sister’s management team.”
He lets out a breath and sounds a little annoyed when he says, “Oh, I get it. You want a story from behind the curtain?”
“I want the story people aren’t telling. The stuff you don’t post on Instagram.”
He steps a little closer and lowers his voice. “I don’t use Instagram, and there’s no need for curtains when there's nothing to hide.”
“There’s always something,” I say. “The question is whether you’re willing to show it or if I have to dig to find it.”
And just like that, his smile falters, and his entire body language shifts. There’s no charm or ease now, just a wall of defense.
Interesting.
“Yo! Saint Nik! You better not be hiding from me.”
I hear the voice and spot Nico Loving, NFL tight end forthe Houston Drillers, top-five trash talker, and Nik’s best friend, swaggering in like he owns the place. A third of the Trickie Nickies, he’s wearing designer sweatpants and sunglasses… indoors.Typical.This guy is so full of himself, I’ve no idea how these two are friends.
Nik huffs under his breath, “Here comes the party.”
“I heard that,” Loving calls out, clapping him on the back. “And you’re welcome. The fans want to see us together.” Then he notices me, and raises an eyebrow. “And who’s this?”
“Ms. Moreno. She’s writing a legacy piece.”
“So that's why my PR rep encouraged me to come.” Nico smirks. “Legacy? He’s not dead yet.”
“Noelle Moreno.” I extend a hand. “Investigative reporter, actually.”
“Ooh,” Nico drawls, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re here to get under his skin. I respect it.”
Nik rubs his jaw and whispers under his breath, “Don’t encourage her.”
I look between them. “So, is it true you’ve known each other since birth?”
“Close enough, since Pop Warner,” Nico says. “And yes, he’s always been this goodie two-shoes guy.”
